The Promise by Tyelca

The Promise

Read The Promise

Finwë softly closed the door as he backed out of the room. His son was sleeping; peacefully for once. Little Curufinwë did not thrash about, screaming at terrors only he could see. Then Finwë would sit with him, for hours and hours, until Curufinwë calmed down. Sometimes he woke and Finwë’s heart broke when those terror-filled eyes rested on him, only slowly becoming clearer in recognition. Those were the nights Finwë himself did not sleep either.

When morning came, Curufinwë did not speak of his nightly episodes, did not seem to remember them even. As a consequence Finwë did not mention them either, and when Curufinwë smiled his bright smile, he was temporarily able to forget. But he did worry, and his concerns leeched at his strength. He maintained his joyful facade, both for his son and for his people, and none suspected.

Many an afternoon he sat in his study, surrounded by open books and an empty scroll, quill poised above the blank parchment. He wanted to write something, anything, ask for a word of advice, tell her how much she was missed, in his life and in the life of their son. But the words didn’t come and the parchment remained perfectly white.

The days seemed to fly by until the long night began again, and with it the struggle to get Curufinwë to bed. His little son was clad in his nightshirt, a long white garment that fell over his knees. Finwë lifted him into his lap, using his fingers to comb through the mess of black knots that were soft as silk when he finished. Curufinwë’s little head leaned against his chest, hindering his fingers but not terribly so. Finwë breathed slowly, deliberately, as Curufinwë picked up on the pattern and breathed with him. It was a calming ritual they shared every night, sometimes more than once. “Atar?” Curufinwë whispered as the golden light of Laurelin faded and the silver glow of Telperion shone in through the window.

“Yes, my son?” Finwë responded. This was their private time, were no courtiers, politicians, tutors, or anyone else was allowed to interrupt and disturb them. Curufinwë twisted in his lap so that he could lay his ear against Finwë’s chest. “Will you always be here?”

Finwë took a sharp breath that jostled Curufinwë’s little face. “Always,” he promised. “I’ll always be here for you, my son.”

“Ammë also said that,”came the petulant voice of Finwë’s most precious treasure. “And then she left.”

“Your ammë had her reasons,” Finwë said at last, knowing how weak it sounded, even to his own ears. Curufinwë was bright, he would not be satisfied by such an answer. Finwë wished he could provide a better one, but after the birth of their child he did not understand Míriel’s mind anymore. In her absence, he clung to his son with something bordering on desperation. This was not what was supposed to happen, this was not what Valinor was supposed to be like. What they by the Valar had been promised. Finwë generally tried to avoid these thoughts, the doubts that plagued him, whispering doubts like whether it had been the right decision to lead his people over mountains and over seas to this perfect land. If it was worth it.
“I will not leave you, Curufinwë,” Finwë stressed again. “It will take the darkness itself to separate me from you. Alright?”

“Alright,” Curufinwë mumbled against Finwë’s chest. A wetness slowly penetrated Finwë’s tunic and he put his arms around his son and pulled him close. “Don’t cry now,” Finwë shushed, before softly humming a lullaby. The melody was simple and Finwë repeated the same notes over and over again, and slowly it took effect. Curufinwë calmed down.

When his sobs had turned into mere hiccups Finwë deemed it safe to speak again. “What brought this on, my son?” he asked, pronouncing the words slowly and with care.

For a while Curufinwë remained silent, and Finwë waited patiently. The frown on his young son’s face indicated deep thought, and although his face was still wet from the tears, the grey eyes were clear and thoughtful. “The Darkness will take you away,” he said finally. “It always does.” Finwë immediately recognized it were the dreams his son was talking about. He listened attentively, despite the shudder that ran down his spine. “And then the Darkness goes away, and I go after it, everybody follows it, sooner or later. And then I die and eventually they all die. And then the world drowns.” Finwë was certain there was more to it, but didn’t push. Didn’t want to know more. This was terrible enough to deal with, especially for Curufinwë who’d already experienced the loss only known to those who came from over the sea.
“My love for you will be stronger than the Darkness,” Finwë said. “I will always stand by your side, my son. Always. I promise you, these visions will not come to pass. I shall ensure it.”

“Even when later people will curse you for it?”

Finwë did not see how people could condemn him when he proved his love, but nonetheless stated, “Even then.”

As if in response Curufinwë’s fingers clutched into Finwë’s tunic and did not let go. For a long time they sat together, until the tight grip of Curufinwë’s fingers loosened and his breathing evened out. Finwë then carefully shifted his arms and rose, carrying Curufinwë to his bed. His son yawned, but did not wake. After Finwë tucked in the covers he gently caressed his son’s forehead, stroking through the black hair that spread out over the pillow.

Curufinwë was calm; tonight, Finwë was certain, the darkness would stay away. Still he remained by his son’s bedside and watched as Telperion’s light illuminated the room, creating a projected interplay of shadows on the ceiling. He watched as Laurelin’s gold returned and gave color to Telperion’s drawing. The day was new, and there were duties Finwë had to attend to. But for now he let those duties go, opting instead to remain there for Curufinwë when he woke up. It was the most meaningful way to convey how seriously he took his promise.

When Laurelin had well and truly risen and Telperion’s silver light had faded completely, Curufinwë stirred from his dreamless sleep. Finwë watched as his eyes became aware of their surroundings, and when those same eyes brightened upon seeing him there, Finwë’s heart melted a little. A smile took over his face and Finwë couldn’t help but return it.

It were moments like this one that convinced him he had made the right choice in coming with the Valar.