The Words You Left Me by eris_of_imladris

Fingolfin

Nelyafinwë kneels before him, and in another life, he would not have hesitated to brush the tears from his eyes, hold his one remaining hand and tell him that everything would be all right. But instead he just looks at his half-brother’s child, Fëanáro’s beloved firstborn son, and all he can see is destruction. The little red-headed boy who could have brought them together was gone, as was any potential for reconciliation.

It was a brave gesture going to his knees, he knew this, but his lips offer no praise. His words remain frozen, stuck on the Helcaraxë when he had nothing but his pride to keep him going forward. Nolofinwë, who he had once been, would have acted with wisdom and restraint, but Fingolfin leaves the one who he can only think of as Nelyafinwë on his knees for just a moment too long, a moment in which he remembers his nephew’s father-name and realizes that he has won. He is loved, and Fëanáro is hated; he is king, and Fëanáro is dead. The grief of losing a beloved brother is locked too far inside for any of it to show.

His people are already doomed for his foolish heart, and he seals away anything else that could hurt them as he nods his head for his nephew to rise. Marks of torture make him stand slowly, bracing himself, but Fingolfin does not move. He is not little Nelyo’s uncle anymore. He cannot be, when he looks down and sees nothing but sneers and laughter and hatred and burning ships.

But he will shove all of that aside, bury it so deep that no one will ever be able to accuse him of a tenth of what Fëanáro felt when he drew his sword. He must be a king of ice, so solid that nothing can break him. He will throw away Nolofinwë and become as close to his father as he can, leading his people on a new journey, and he will draw strength from the legacy he tries to salvage as he adopts his new name.

Fingolfin means many things – an adaptation to language, a son’s wish to be enveloped in his father’s arms with nothing between, a proud thought that makes him hold his head higher and feel like he can challenge anything in the world and prevail.

I am more Finwë than Fëanáro ever was.

He is lying to himself, but no one remains to question his words.