The Hunter's Song by Rhapsody

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Little Brother - Envy

Maglor has his own issues with a new family member.

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With a start, I awake up to the sound of people running down the hall. It is a year later and I am still not used to my new room, far away from the sheltering presence of my parents. It is not that I dislike my new room: it is more spacious than the other one. But Atar said that the nursery would soon be a home for a little brother whom I will love immediately. Atar does not understand that I want to remain close to Amil’s consoling arms when a nightmare hunts me down in my sleep. Only in her arms, I feel safe and secure; although, I know Nelyo tries to make me understand that I have to listen to Atar.

But Atar is wrong. I do not wish to share Amil and him, or Nelyo for that matter with a little brother. Why can’t they understand that? I feel slowly pushed aside as if I, Canafinwë Feanorion, am just a small chip of one of Amil’s statues. Over the past months, Amil could not read with me because that little brother took up all the space inside her while her belly grew bigger. Amil said that I could sit next to her instead of leaning against her body, while I listened to her soft heartbeat. That that little usurper! There, that makes me feel a bit better.

The gloomy strip of light that peaks under my door gives me just enough sight to find my friend Monyo: his smell and soft skin is always a comfort to me when I wake up in the dark. At least Atar did not want me to give this little brother my stuffed dog and this thought comforts me. My eyes feel heavy now that I feel the pull of one of Irmo’s creations, so I give in to my impending dream.

Then a squeal cuts through the night and instinctively I dive under the covers while my heart races. I hear Nelyo’s excited voice in the hallway now, Atar’s voice sounds proud too, yet I do not dare to move, at least not until the sound subsides. Once it does, the house becomes very quiet as if I am all alone in this place.

I really do not know what to do next: leave my bed and ask Atar what just happened, or be that big boy he wants me to be and go back to sleep. I know Nelyo can sometimes act so casually, as if even some bad things cannot harm him as being scowled at by Ataren Finwë’s lords. But I at least can try. Or, I suddenly realise, I can leave my bed and act as Nelyo does when I know he is upset, but does not want the other boys to know.

“Yes, that is what I will do.” I tell Monyo and I leave him behind to guard the bed as I put on my slippers and robe. Once I finally find them, I open the door and step into the abandoned hallway to hear rustling robes and muffled whispers just around the corner. I know now that I do have to be brave, but I cannot suppress the feeling of fear. Something has changed, but why did it have to change? I hesitate while I try to understand why this feeling, which took its fruit months ago, gnaws inside me. Suddenly two strong hands seize me and in a flurry of silver and blue robes, I think I know who just lifted me in these mighty arms. Ataren Finwë!

“What are you doing here stalking down the halls Inyo?” I cannot answer him because suddenly a laugh is stuck in my throat that prevents me from speaking.

“Well?” I twist my head so that we can meet eye to eye. “Everyone is awake,” I answer, but when I say it, I realise it might sound as a lousy excuse.

“So I heard, but I remember the day you were born Inyo. Your voice could be heard from afar and nothing would silence you except for your Amil’s milk.” Ataren’s voice sooths the unsettling feeling that has grown inside me for months with ease.

“I missed you Ataren,” I answer and hug him tightly. His warm hands caress my back and I know he will never ever let me go. “Will you always love me?”

Ataren’s big hand lifts me high in the air, but where normally a twinkle would be in his eyes, I see his obvious concern. “Your baby brother can wait. Come, I will make you some warm milk instead.” I simply cannot protest: Ataren simply carries me away from this hall to the kitchen. Once we arrive there, he places me on the wooden bench, asking me questions about my hobbies, friends, and my studies. And I gleefully answer everything he asks me as he stirs the pot once in a while, but his eyes never leave me. Well almost, only when he scoops two spoons of honey in my cup. But I cannot stop talking, Ataren is making me the centre of the universe again, and I feel how my hurt slowly leaves my mind and I secretly wish he will never leave me.

“Cáno, why do you think I do not love you?”

This question surprises me and I wonder why he asks me this while shortly before he gave me what I really wanted: his ears, his attention and, yes, his love.

“Do you think your Atar does not love you?”

I do not know what to say in return, especially when I watch how his eyes seem tormented to me. How can I explain this? Shamefully and bereft of happiness I lower my gaze to my cup: my hands lie idly in my lap.

“Cáno. The arrival of a new brother will not mean that your Atar loves you less.” Ataren starts, but I can sense that he weighs his words. I want to say something back, telling him that I do know my Atar loves me, but then again, why did he not come for me. Did I not hear him talking to Nelyo earlier this evening? Did he already forget about me now that this long and eagerly awaited brother has come? Now it is me who weighs his words so carefully. The last one I want to lose to this newcomer is my Ataren.

“I don’t know.” I stammer and fear throttles my voice while the salty tears drop into my sweetened milk.

“I know your Atar, Cáno.” I hear Ataren’s voice faintly and I wish I was not here, but safe in my bed with Monyo who would never ever leave me or ask difficult questions.

“I will love you until the end of the world, Canafinwë.”

Atar’s voice manages to pierce through this cloak of muddled thoughts, tears still swim in my eyes when I see him standing in the doorway with a small bundle in his arms. Nelyo – I could pick out his red hair anywhere – stands next to him. I feel so ashamed and yet so angry to be found like this. Another shift of robes blurry my vision and Ataren is gone. So is Nelyo. I still cannot look my Atar in the eyes, feeling afraid what he will read in them.

“Cáno.” Atar starts and he sits down next to me, carefully holding the bundle in his arms. “Cáno, can you at least look at me?” I try, carefully and we sit there for a while. The only thing that can be heard is the soft murmur coming from the blankets Atar still holds.

“Turco will need you Cáno.” Atar starts, “he is defenceless and needs his stronger and elder brothers to become just as powerful as you.”

Surprise overtakes me and I look at Atar to notice that he means every word that he speaks to me. Suddenly his smile lights up his face and I feel my lips curling up too. He lowers the bundle to me and I feel surprised.

“Did you not know Cáno? Did you expect your little brother to be talking and walking the day he was born? Do you remember the nest of kittens you and Nelyo found in the barn weeks ago. Were those small creatures not helpless too?”

I never considered that! But suddenly I understand. Timo, Nelyo’s brown cat started to grow very big over the course of weeks and Ataren’s previous comment about Amil’s milk.. that sinks in too. I remember the kittens, too blind and dependent on their Amil and us. I gaze down on my little brother - Turco I think - and I want to help him, defend him, and protect him from the outside world.

“His name is Turcafinwë Cáno. But Nelyo already shortened his name.” Atar laughs and he holds me close.

“Can I hold him Atar?” I ask and I try to describe the feeling of sympathy for my little brother that washes over me. Atar nods and once I sit up straight and stable, I feel the weight of my brother on my arms. His tiny lips are pursed: his eyes are firmly shut. I try to put my thoughts to words once I look up to Atar. “I love you, Atar.”

“I love you too, yonya.”

“Atar?”

“Yes Cáno?”

“I love Turco too.”

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Chapter End Notes

 

Quenya used:

Atar: father
Amil: mother
Nelyo: Maedhros nickname
Canafinwë: Maglor’s fathername
Feanorion: son of Fëanor
Ataren: attested Quenya (Vinyar Tengwar 43:36-37), the –en is used as adjective to describe great/grand attached to Atar, which makes it grandfather
Inyo: grandson
Cáno: Maglor’s nickname
Turco: Celegorm’s nickname
Turcafinwë: Celegorm’s fathername
Yonya: my son