His firstborn, to Finwë by SkyEventide

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Chapter 1


I loved you more than the mingling lights. You filled a double, hollow gap, even in your own sadness, and I sat on your shoulders as if no place in Arda were higher and allowed me to look farther. I found rest and warmth in your arms. I have been a child, too, even if the world forgets, and you were the one who cradled me.

Mother and father you were to me, until I learnt that her place could be taken by no one.

The betrayal did not come for Indis, but from you. How easy it is to say that she enchanted you, bewitched you, casting aside the memory of her friend who was also my mother, how easy to hate her as I am expected, to be angry at her, as I should be. Not as easy to feel the same for you, father mine. 

Never will I say it out loud, out of love and respect; but I left your house and sought friends and family in Mahtan’s in unhappiness and resentment. The serenity that I could not give you alone poisoned my days and did not complete yours.

Can you not see, Prince, that he loves you most? — they say. — Can you not see that he favours you, that he will neglect wife and other children for you, that no one will ever dethrone you in his heart?

Affection given out of guilt has a bitter taste in my mouth. Split your heart in a half, father, if you wish, but you chose already the day you decided to seal my mother’s fate.

Do you know, Prince, that your mother chose herself? — they ask. 

Why, do you think, did I shred and burn the first papers that reported the Valar’s words, and yours, and hers? But her fate I will not accept. I will not accept the law that kills her and all that came of it.

Father, I only hated more because, with me in your home, you had to choose, and you had to be guilty (you made yourself guilty), and had to regret every moment that you dedicated to me for the mere fact that you could not save it for the others. Blame lies on many people’s shoulders. And all the more I desired to be loved, all the more I loved you of that affection that, in my childhood, perhaps was enough to keep you.

So rarely do I feel shame.

You have been taken from me, once in life with your own blessing, and once in death, and neither of them will I forgive.


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