Complete by Melesta

The Truth of Your Fëar

Tirion. Years of the Trees:

On the morning after my coming of age, I found myself alone in the house. Írissë had gone hunting with the cousins early, and Finno, as usual, had vanished, leaving no trace behind. My father found me in the stables treating apples to Rochallor, our young steed who had recently come of age himself. With a knowing smile, he said:

'Turno, why don't you take him for a gallop today? He needs it, and it seems so do you.'

I silently thanked his intuition and wasted no time, quickly departing with Rochallor towards a nearby grove. My head was beginning to clear from the surge of emotions I had felt recently. I needed this space to consider where I wanted to take my life, now that I had complete authority over my own decisions. More so, I needed room to make sense of my growing feelings for Elenwë.

As the groves grew thicker and the heat of the afternoon rose, I left the steed near a creek. I strolled up the forest to a small clearing. The sky opened above a mature hawthorn tree that stood tall, providing much-needed comfort and shade. Upon a closer look, however, I spotted two figures splayed underneath the shadows of the solitary tree. It did not take me any time at all to recognize my cousin Nelyo's copper top and the silky blue of my brother Finno's tunic.

More than each separately, I had recognized the familiar sight of them together. As they ever did, they appeared jointly without effort, red against blue, like a streak of sundown against the early evening sky. The burning call for solitude now dissipated, I felt compelled to join their afternoon doze. And just maybe, I could later open my heart to them. Despite our differences, my older brother held nothing but kindness and courage for me. And to balance it out, Nelyo had always been able to look at things logically and coherently. Much like myself under less perplexing circumstances.

I was about to quicken my step toward them when I suddenly felt the entrancing encirclement of Lórien and knew Irmo was guarding their rest against intruders. I obeyed this invisible command and stayed grounded. Nelyo and Finno lay there together, embracing each other softly yet stoutly, absorbed in the sweetness of their unity and the shimmering warmth that surrounded them. I had seen them doze off by each other's side in grandfather's garden countless times, especially after one too many raspberry tarts or glasses of sweet wine at lunch. At times they even rested an arm or a knee against the other, and I never mistook it for anything more than the closeness of kin and fellowship. On such occasions, I myself preferred Findaráto's pensive companionship, escaping with him down the river and letting Ulmo lull us in his music.

But here and now, shielded from the world by the privacy of Oromë's woods, cradled by Yavanna's gifts, I recognized a different closeness to their embrace. The sparks of Maitimo's hair that usually underlined the steady fire to his elaborations in court now seemed like gleaming embers that warmed their content profiles. His cheek resting against my brother's chest, long arms wrapping around his waist, he appeared almost younger than Findekáno. Like a toddler happily clinging to its favorite blanket. My brother held him back with the tenderness I had recognized from our own family naps on the open balconies. Yet his heart, always worn on his skin, now seemed perfectly tranquil, sheltering them from all worry.

I could almost tell by the serene conviction on their closed eyes that they were dreaming the precise moment they were experiencing, wishing to change nothing of their dream. What I was watching was a moment never meant for me to see, nor anyone else. This was not just the intimacy between two lovers but the closest approximation to each of their essences, such as they were in the truth of their fëar.

It suddenly all made sense, all the little pieces of a carefully constructed puzzle snapped together. The intricacies of their unique friendship. The silly little chuckles at secrets they only shared with each other. The way their bodies were always facing, although it surprised none that they always sat adjacent. How they saved the last piece of dessert or fruit for the other at large family gatherings. Their instinctive smile and hazy stares at the lyrics of the same melody Makalaurë would play. They had weaved this secret so intricately and lovingly. Still, they wore it openly in everything they did as if there was absolutely nothing to hide. Like you cannot, nor you wish to conceal the very sound of your own laughter on a joyful day. I momentarily closed my eyes, intuitively wishing for them to remain in this blessedness until the end of Arda.

The revelation struck me like the sight of fire to a blind man who has been gifted vision for the first time - filled me both with wonder and dreadful terror. For now, I firmly understood that Maitimo and Findekáno always were and always would be one. They would be present within one another always. Just as the light of Elentari's stars shines between every turn of Súlimo's winds no matter the physical distance. Each heartbeat brought a wave of renewed love toward both of them. Only to be followed by the horror of every impatient glance I had seen my father and uncle exchange. I started panicking and stumbled backward, afraid that Maitimo and Findekáno will sense my storm and awaken, and I will somehow forever shatter their bliss. I ran through the forest back toward where my father's horse unsuspectedly awaited me.

Frenzied, I marched on until I lost my footing and tripped into the creek that weaved across the forest floor. Wrestling the shock of the cold water against my heated body, I dragged myself on the grass and collapsed. An unfathomable sorrow overtook me, and a chill crept between my bones. I was sure it did not come from jealousy. Nor any abysmal disapproval of what I had just witnessed. Love above all else still flowed freely in my heart. For a moment, I felt defeated, crushed under the weight of some imminent curse I did not comprehend. Nothing made sense. The feeling made me furious, and then I sensed involuntary tears rolling down my face, soaking the very ground I was resting my brow upon. I could not tell how long I knelt there, groaning and hissing, beating my fists against the grass like I was fighting some dark and invincible enemy.

My anger must have tired me because, after a while, I felt exhausted but calm. I sat for a while, relishing in the solitude. And then decided to get a hold of myself. I washed my face in the clear waters of the creek. Ulmo's blessing returned my senses. I stood back up resolutely, straightened my clothes and rebraided my disheveled hair. A faint sound caught my ear, and although still far, I recognized Finno's exuberant laughter. More composed now, I hurriedly mounted Rochallor and fled, grateful that he instantly recognized my sense of urgency. I needed space to shield Findekáno and Maitimo from my anger, my confusion and this inexplicable feeling of regret. I had to distance myself from them.