Swear Me No Oaths But One by lushthemagicdragon

Onto them Estë smiled

Read Onto them Estë smiled

They took to their horses on the eve of their leaving for the shore. They bridled their steeds themselves, leaving the stable boys to rest before the long ride ahead. No one need know of their passing, across the fields with packs full of candles and cloth. Findekáno took the lead with great intent; the last ride of Findekáno and Maitimo through the lands of Aman.

 

The whole thing had been Findekáno’s idea to begin with, ever one to take wild notions and bring them into fruitful reality by the sheer power of his will alone. Still within earshot of Makalaurë’s singing they kept each other’s company, privacy between two not far from the herd. Maitimo spoke with calm confidence, the tongue of a son raised for diplomacy, a boy who weathered a father’s temper alongside the rambunctious behavior of six brothers and more cousins alike. He spoke of the journey across the sea, of the provisions they would need and the hardships they would face. He spoke of soft beds they would sacrifice for their freedom, and Findekáno watched him parse Fëanor’s words with his own brand of rational thinking. Findekáno watched, he listened, he turned onto his side to face his cousin when he had heard enough dancing around the issue that concerned him most.

 

“But you don’t want me to come with you.”  

 

Maitimo hesitated, his lips tightening in the way they always did when he struggled to find just the right words for how he felt about a matter of great importance. 

 

“I never said that. I would never say that.” 

 

“You didn’t need to. I think I know by now when you’re trying to be self-sacrificing for what you believe is best.”

 

Again Maitimo was quiet, his eyes fixed on the sky above, the clouds that passed with gentle ease. 

 

“Neither of us know what waits for us across the sea. None of us know beyond Grandfather’s stories, and with him gone, we have only the idea of wilderness and our own power of will to guide is.” 

 

“If you’re going to imply that I’m weak willed, Maitimo--”

 

“I think you are so strong-willed that you will go head-first into any danger that approaches, believing wholly that doing what is right will keep you safe from harm.” For all that Findekáno’s teasing held the threat of offense, Maitimo met it in return with honesty, and clarity of mind. He carried it in his shoulders, in the downturn of his lips, heavy with responsibility and earnest in equal parts. 

 

“And am I not allowed a choice in this?” 

 

“Káno…”

 

“Look at me, Maitimo.” 

 

Maitimo did as he was told, and Findekáno met that stubborn concern in his lover’s eyes and the tension in his jaw with a stubbornness of his own; an assured security in his convictions. Findekáno smiled in reassurance, brushing a strand of hair back behind Maitimo’s ear. 

 

“I will not tell you that I will be anything but myself. I will not tread carefully and linger behind while others fight my battles for me. I’m reasonably sure that you love me for who I am, not for some far off idea that I could be anyone else. Am I wrong?” 

 

Maitimo chuckled, gently shaking of his head. “I love you for everything that you are.” 

 

“Then how could you possibly believe that I would stay behind? I would fade if I were to remain. I would become a shadow of myself without our family, without purpose, without <i>you</i>. I would follow you to the ends of the world.” Findekáno reached out again to hold Maitimo’s face in his hand. His thumb stroked the gently freckled cheek beneath it. “You are a part of me as if I were your husband or your wife. I would marry you if that would convince you to dismiss the idea that I would be anywhere but by your side and in your confidence.” 

 

Maitimo’s hand joined Findekáno’s upon his cheek, his jaw relaxing under affection, curling into a soft smile. 

 

“You know as well as I do that our fathers would never allow it.” 

 

“They wouldn’t need to know.”

 

“You’re not serious.” 

 

The trees in the Garden of Lorien twinkled brighter with fireflies, made visible against the endless daylight sky by the shadow of the wood. The choice of location had been hard thought and discussed. They could not do this by traditional means and still remain secret. No, not under the eyes of Varda and Manwë, nor in the halls of Tulkas and Nessa. To do this in the home of Irmo and Estë, though, was a promise of something quieter and deeper than some raucous ceremony. They tied their horses to a tree and made their way, hand in hand, and off the path towards the house of healing. Around they went to the other side of the lake, hidden from the view of any healers that might still be awake. 

 

What would Fëanor say if word of their actions were to get back to him from the woods where Míriel lay to rest? What would Fingolfin say of his eldest son’s boldness, on the eve of their fragile truce? Findekáno found a spot upon the shore of the lake where only the eyes of the Valar themselves could see and witness. Stones laid in a circle, packs of candles empties and lit between stone and pebble.  Findekáno plucked flowers gently from the trees to place between each candle, each stone, and in his focus he missed Maitimo doing the same. Maitimo caught him off guard at his work, sliding a single blossom behind one ear, and another into a braid. 

 

“If we’re going to disturb Irmo’s rest with our secrecy, then you may as well look the part of a bridegroom.” 

 

Findekáno laughed into the air between them, his joy twinkling in the sound. Flowers found their way wound into Maitimo’s hair as well, and in between Findekáno’s golden ribbon and dark locks. Within a button-hole, hooked playfully in a belt buckle. It was perhaps too many flowers taken in the night, but the lovers laughed quickly between kisses, and Findekáno lead Maitimo by the hands into the circle they had made. 

 

“Are you ready?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Hands squeezed together before Findekáno brought forth a sash from his pack. There had been no time to have one made for the occasion. There would be no elaborate embroidery befitting the House of Finwë, no ceremony beyond their circle of light and stone and earth. Only a sash plucked from Aredhel’s wardrobe, in the colors of both families. Findekáno began to sing as he wrapped their left hands together. That soft wedding melody often carried by more voices than one. With no chorus to sing for their vows, harmony came only when Maitimo joined in. Findekáno’s tenor and Maitimo’s baritone rang together as only music could, with spirit and soul in every word and note that passed from lovers lips. With left hands tied, Findekáno took up the edge again and--

 

Stopped.

 

“Káno.” 

 

“Don’t say it.” 

 

“How are you going to finish this exactly, with only one hand?” 

 

Maitimo did his very best not to chuckle at the glare he received, conceding to an amused little smile in the face of the blinkered dedication with which Findekáno approached this problem. Findekáno tied the sash around both of their hands loosely, tucking the edge and, with the bite of his teeth, pulled the edge tight. 

 

“That should do.” Findekáno remarked proudly, testing the strength with a gentle tug of his right hand. Not too much tugging and the thing would stay for the time being. “It seems that I have a gift for working one-handed. Should anything happen to my left, I think I would do just fine.” 

 

“You would be wasted without both of your hands, Káno.” 

 

“You never know, I could learn to nock an arrow with my teeth.” 

 

“I would rather you never had to.” 

 

The air smelled richly of flowers around them. The ones still attached to their trees and those entwined in their hair, surrounding the lovers as they smiled. They had not learned yet in their youthful innocence of Thingol and Melian, and yet the trees seemed to speak to them like visions. The forest home of Irmo spoke words of devotion across the sea that they could not yet comprehend, of trials weathered and burdens carried in the bonds of love. So heavy the heart would seem to Irmo without Estë to bring the ever present calm of trust. 

 

“I feel as if I could sleep, rest here for eternity with you, just as we are in this moment.” 

 

Fidekáno’s hands squeezed Maitimo’s under the fabric bonds of matrimony. Maitimo leaned in to press a gentle kiss upon his lover’s cheek, lingering for a moment in their closeness. 

 

“Best that we not let Irmo lure us from our duties then, for I would have you for every day to come and not only for a moment in the woods.” 

 

Crickets chirped their melodies and fireflies lit their circle. The witnesses had come. Onto them Estë smiled. Maitimo continued.

 

“I have always known that I would need to marry. It is my responsibility, as it is yours, to father sons and daughters in the lines of our fathers and our mothers. I have known this my whole life, but no wife or mother of children has ever driven my passions. None, when there was you. You who grew from presumptuous child to presumptuous adult before my eyes and insisted on being known. You who have known my mind and my heart above all, who has put words to the most difficult of thoughts and action to the most difficult of struggle. You, who have supported me and whom I would keep by my side through all trials that await us across the sea. The responsibilities will come. I will need wife and child, and in the eyes of our people I will need marry as responsibility sees fit, but you will always be first. If this must be our secret then our secret it will remain into the end of all things. I worry on what is to come, and in true form you have taken my worry and turned it into hope. Findekáno, I will love you through any and all things, of this you have my solemn oath. Without you, I am nothing.” 

 

The trees rustle, and in the calm of Estë’s smile the oath worries none but the trees themselves.

 

“Do not swear such an oath to me, Maitimo. Without me, you are as vibrant as you are now. You are the star in my sky and light of my life, and in your eyes I see the very best of us. You who have carried the weight of the family upon your shoulders and who would cross the seas to carry the weight of our people in their entirety without hesitation. You are <i>good</i>, my love, and I will see you through to your very best by your side. What responsibility could possibly tear me from you? None. We shall go across the sea together, and we shall do our very best, together. Never go far from me, and you shall never come to harm. I will love you with my everything and no great sea, no great unknown could keep me from you.” 

 

“You speak in definites as if you know what is to come.” 

 

“I need not know what is to come to know you, and to know myself.” 

 

Findekáno raised onto his toes to snatch Maitimo’s lips with his own, without the assist of his hands. His kiss spoke its own oath, one of love and devotion. With foreheads pressed together, they sang in gentle breathes the marriage vows, in the presence of the trees. They laughed as they untangled themselves from their handfast and retangled themselves with one another for a short while. There would be no worry here, hidden away from the oncoming storm, in the eye of the calm. 

 

Their burdens could wait a few short hours, for what was the point of worrying when one was loved?