Loyalty by Melesta

Chapter 1

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Tirion. Years of the Trees:

By the time I make my way down to the stables, Telperion's silver light washes over Nerdanel's marble statues in the garden. Uncle Fëanáro's bust looks strangely alive and a slight panic creeps up my spine when I feel movement from the house behind me. To my relief, I spot Findekáno climbing down Nelyo's balcony and I do not manage to stifle a chuckle, louder than I can afford.

'Írissë? What are you doing here at this hour?' He looks more amused than surprised.

'I would ask you the same but I think we both know háno.' I whisper back with a smirk.

'Did you not go hunting early with Curvo and Tyelko?'

'I did. Ride home with me.' And I point to my bow and the dead rabbits that have been hanging far too many hours from my saddlebag.

'Ugh, atrocious! Clean your bow at the very least. You indeed have been spending too much time with Tyelko.' He grimaces but I drag him to my horse and we quietly sneak out.

As we make our way back home, he is unnaturally quiet so I poke his ribs. 'You should not blame Tyelko for the blood on my bow Finno. You know hunting and riding is the only time I get to be fully myself.'

'You owe me no explanations Írissë, I am not Turno. Although of all our cousins, you had to pick Tyelko's friendship to feel most like yourself?'

'He does not suffocate me. We respect each other's boundaries, and that is all it matters. Why does it annoy you so much?'

'I am not annoyed with him. I like to annoy him, there is a difference. I know he is as much pain to Maitimo as you are to me. And I like him better than Curvo.'

'That is not a very high standard.'

'We are not best of friends, I will agree. But I do respect him. I dare say the feeling is mutual. And if my favorite sister holds love for him than surely he must be decent.'

'I am your only sister Finno. And I would not go so far as to call this love.'

He turns to glance at me with a question and I elaborate. 'We do love each other but it is not the kind of love you and Nelyo share. Besides, you well know I am not so concerned with love, you romantic fool.'

'If not love, then what are you concerned with Írissë? he asks with a serious tone.

'Freedom. And loyalty.'

He does not respond but I can feel his body softening under my arms and I know he understands. As he always does.

Chapter 2

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Alqualondë, Beggining of the Long Night:

There is no time for questions when we finally reach them. Findekáno runs forward and we follow with whatever weapons we carry. The stench and the screams are suffocating me as I catch a glimpse of fair strands beneath a bloodied helmet. Tyelko! Curvo! Then a shout, someone runs toward them and I still my feet. I steady my hand and let go. The first arrow is easy. The second, easier. They look up at me in horror but there is still no time.

More shouting. Findekáno and Nelyafinwë stand back to back as they swing through a small group that surrounds them. Finno! Nelyo! A third arrow. A fourth. The fifth one pierces and two bodies fall like rabbits in midflight. Until there is none left. My brother and Nelyo embrace instinctively, swords still in hand. I focus on that embrace, I don't look down. Everything is still for a brief instant. The screams cease and I lower my bow.

Nelyo jumps out of the embrace with sudden realization. Utter dread swiftly replaces the concern on his features and he starts shouting:

'Finno! No! You fool! What are you…? Eru, curse me, curse me thrice!' He panics, takes the sword out of my brother's hand and starts looking around in haste. He locks his gaze on me and pulls Findekáno over.

'Írissë! Take him away from here, hide until this is all over. I will return for you later. None can know you were here with us, none! Do you understand, Írissë?!'

'Maitimo it is too late for that!' my brother cries, but Nelyo does not even look at him. He still stares at me shaking, hot tears now flow down his bloodied cheeks and his face looks deformed. I cannot find my voice but find the strength to push my brother's protesting body in front of me. We run and I glance behind my shoulder to see Nelyo on his knees, Tyelko and Curvo lifting him to his feet. We nod quickly to each other before dragging our brothers away.

 

***

Losgar:

When I finally come back to my senses and the shock dissipates, the smoke has clouded every single star in the sky above us. I know the ships are far but I can almost feel the fire on my skin. I look up and open my mouth. Black snowflakes land on my tongue and I concentrate on their bitterness. I let them melt down my throat and for a moment I regain my thoughts.

Not a single movement arises from the elves around me and I wonder if we have not already departed to Mandos. Father still stands up front, limply holding on to his sword. Arakáno and Turukáno are but a few steps behind him, shielding Itarillë between them. My footsteps finally break the silence as I catch Findekáno standing alone and move to his side.

'Írissë.' He embraces me too tightly and whispers only for my ear: 'What have we done, nésa?'

'We did what we had to.'

'We could not have known.'

'Even if we did. We would have. And you know it.'

He releases me and nods but never lets go of my hand. We stand together staring at the fires again as if our faith is written in those flames. The glow starts dying down as I watch the determination come to life in his eyes. And then I hear what I expected:

'I am not going back, Írissë. He truly is a lunatic if he believes he can march off to death without me.'

'All Fëanorians are lunatics, we knew as much. And you are no less of a lunatic if you think you can march off without me. I am coming with you.'

I state it like a challenge and search his face. I brace myself for another battle expecting the barrage of reasoning as to why I should go back and how I cannot handle the crossing. But instead, he squeezes my hand tighter and calmly commands:

'Take some of my leathers, whatever fits you. Wrap your bow twice over and pack as many steel arrows as you can get.'

We step foot on the ice soon after and I do not look back.

Chapter 3

Turgon constructed Vinyamar, a seaside city in Himlad, sometime before F.A. 50. Aredhel dwelt there with him and Idril before moving to Gondolin in F.A. 116. At this time, Fingon is a crown prince and Lord of Dor-lómin. Maedhros and his brothers reside in East Beleriand.

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Vinyamar, Himlad:

It does not take long after Fingon's arrival to Vinyamar to lapse into our old routine. Turgon traps him for days at his solemn council meetings but finally, we snatch some time alone. At the height of moonlight, we quietly steal a wineskin from the kitchens and slip outside the city gates on my horse. Riding down the beach carelessly with my brother, I suddenly feel so very young. Yet my mind is aware we are no longer youths in Valinor and we could not be further away from our parent's house in Tirion. Why are we sneaking in the middle of the night? Who is going to stop us?

But I leave all doubts aside and relish in the biting scent of sea salt. I lean in to rest my brow against his loose braids and imagine we are somewhere else, some other sea far away. He startles me as he breaks the soft silence and we slip off the horse. A hint of disappointment in his voice:

'Is this as far as we go on a horse? Boulders block the passage to the rest of the beach below. We are not even out of sight from the nearest guard tower.'

'Well Finno, not all of us are so lucky to traverse the forests of Hithlum.'

I instantly regret my hasty accusation. He halts to catch my gaze and I cannot help but recognize myself in the blue of his eyes. His kindness pierces me and I realize then that I have felt caged like a beast within the city walls. I had missed him so much. I had missed the feeling of freedom we both long for. But he does not reproach me.

'Then come back with me to Dor-lómin and traverse it yourself. My company does not lack arrows.'

'And hunt what? Orcs?'

'Beloved nésa, that is the beauty of Beleriand. There are always more orcs to hunt.'

I refuse to admit how appealing that offer sounds. So I resort to mockery. 'You only want me there to hold your forth while you run away to Himring for your winter love retreats.'

'I would invite you to join me but game along the Marches might disappoint, especially during winter. Alas, not all Fëanorians can speak to beasts.' He plays my game but does not yield. 'Besides, I could use more skilled bows. Lead a part of the company under your command if you so wish. I am not jealous.'

'Sounds too tempting. But I cannot turn my back on Turno, not right now.' I state honestly and resign. He remains silent for too long and then resignation settles on his features as well.

'So you have made your mind to follow him to his new city? Oh, please Aredhel! Father and I are not blind nor deaf. He has recruited every decent builder outside of Doriath. Worry not, I will not stand in his way. Nor yours, I have not the right.'

'You think I am sacrificing myself.'

'I think not. Loyalty, I know.'

'Always. Idril is no longer a child even if Turno pretends otherwise. I will not sit and watch her merely survive. She is most capable for leadership among us all and if there is anything I can teach her now, it is the least I can do.'

'She has much to learn from you. But she will not always need you. Or any of us for that matter. And thereafter what?'

'Then, let us hope we live to see dear háno. There is much forest in the East. And no lack of friends of old*.’

He snorts and understanding settles on his shoulders. We remain silent thereafter, content that everything important has been shared already.

---

Chapter End Notes

*From the Silmarillion, "Of Maeglin":
'Then Aredhel departed from Gondolin, and Turgon’s heart was heavy at her going.
But when she came to the Ford of Brithiach in the River Sirion she said to her companions: ‘Turn now south and not north, for I will not ride to Hithlum; my heart desires rather to find the sons of Fëanor, my friends of old.’

Epilogue

Himlad was the land of Celegorm and Curufin. Tolkien tells us that Aredhel stays in Himlad twice. The first time after departing Gondolin, when Celegorm and Curufin were away hunting with Caranthir in Thargelion. Aredhel stayed with Celegorm's people for some time but got restless and kept riding east. She got lost in Nan Elmoth, Eöl's dark forest. The second time she visits Himlad, Aredhel and Maeglin were on the run from Nan Elmoth. They stayed briefly with Celegorm who gave them horses to get back to Gondolin.

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Himlad:

'Írissë…'

'You would dare use that name, Celegorm?'

'Aredhel. I am sorry, it has been too long. But tell me. Every bird I sent to Nan Elmoth flew back to inform me you stayed silent at the messages I sent.'

'What kind of response did you expect?'

'You well know we would have stormed his forest and get you out of there. The only reason the Dark Elf still breathes is out of respect for you and your son. You just had to pass word.'

'I knew. But has there not been enough death?'

'We all chose death the moment we left Tirion. I refuse to pretend there is another way. And I refuse to believe he kept you there by force all this time. None can keep you anywhere against your will.'

''Tis why we always got along, dearest cousin. Why I ventured this way, to begin with.'

'Why then? Why did you stay?'

'Loyalty.'