Finwean Ladies Week 2021 by Kaylee Arafinwiel

"Will you never trust me, hinya?"

He gave her a disdainful look. "I will not. I am not thy child, either," he retorted. "I am Þerindëon, now and forever. Thou canst go sa-si with thy children, and thy husband." He scoffed.

Indis sighed as her stepson stalked away from her, and returned to her sewing room with Findis. O Miriel, what hast thy Choice wrought? "I miss thee, Miriel, my sister," she whispered, and Findis squeezed her hand.

***

"Dost thou trust me, hina?"

Nolofinwe looked up at Feanaro, his thumb in his mouth. The little boy had escaped his nurse once again, and he rather admired his elder brother, who was most definitely a grown-up and a fascinating one at that. He nodded. "Up?" he inquired, holding out his arms for Feanaro to pick him up as Finwe so often did.

Feanaro obligingly picked up his stepmother's spawn, holding the child away from him. He missed the boy's twin, Lalwen, hiding behind the nearby tapestry. She crept after Feanaro, doing her best to keep up with his long strides. It wasn't easy, but she did her best to keep her brothers in sight.

She was just in time to see Feanaro push Nolofinwe over, into the shallow water of the fountain's basin, and ran at Feanaro, screaming. "Emme! Emme!"

By the time Indis arrived to pluck her two distressed children from the water, Feanaro had gone. The Noldotari whispered a prayer of thanks to Lord Ulmo for not allowing the twins to drown. "I should never have left them alone. They are much too clever for their nurse," she wept.

"Lalwen, hina, what madness is this?" Findis Finwiel, wife of Valandur Voronwion, regarded her younger sister with her arms folded sternly. "Thou wouldst betray amme...thou wouldst follow Feanaro into--"

Crack.

Lalwen stared at her hand, then to Findis, kneeling on the flagstones, hand cupped around her bloody nose. Regret flashed across her face, and she sank to her knees before her elder sister, calling for a healer. Two ran over at once, faces white. "Nay, meldanya nette, I follow Feanaro not," she whispered. "I do this for Nolo. Whither he goest, I follow."

"Nolofinwe...Nolofinwe was left in charge of Tirion!" Findis sputtered as the healers tended to her. "He cannot leave amme! What of Anaire and their children? What of Ari and Earwen, and theirs?"

"Amme is perfectly capable of ruling Tirion, with or without Anaire's help," Lalwen replied calmly, though no less sorrowfully. "I do hope Ari stays, though. Amme deserves to have at least one of her children remain with her, and the elflings are old enough not to need a nurse any longer, I hope."

Findis glowered, and Lalwen winced.

"Nay, Findis, I did not mean..."

"I know what you meant," Findis muttered. "But Val and I will stay with her, with Uncle Ingwe's leave."

Lalwen nodded. "Val is a capable administrator - and I do not forget that you are, too. Help amme and Anaire here. Perhaps...perhaps Nolo and I will be able to come back soon."

Findis embraced Lalwen, hugging her tightly. "Take care then. Of yourself and Nolo."

"I will," Lalwen whispered. "I love thee, Finni."

"And I love thee, Lalwen," Findis murmured.

"Írissë!"

The shriek startled the siblings, and Írissë turned from Findecáno to look for Artanis, knowing that voice as well as her own. "Artanis..." The dark-haired daughter of Ñolofinwë gasped as her cousin leaped upon her, tumbling her into a pile of furs. "Artanis, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like she is doing?" Findecáno smirked, though there was a note of jealousy in his tone as well.

"Shut up, Findecáno," Írissë growled. She turned to regard Artanis, who was clinging to her as though to a lifeline. "Artanis, nettenya, art thou well?"

Artanis shook her head, and Írissë gently, carefully, moved garments aside to see the bruising all over her cousin's pale skin.

"What meanest thou by this?" Findecáno demanded. "Artanis, what dost thou here in Írissë's tent?"

"I could ask the same of thee, Findecáno," Artanis retorted. She was still shaking. "Findaráto. I need Findaráto."

Though Findecáno little liked being ordered around by his younger cousin, he could see she was in earnest. He turned and went to find the eldest son of Arafinwë at once. When they were alone, Artanis buried her face in the curve of Írissë's neck, breathing in the scent of her half-frozen hair. She shivered from more than the cold, tears falling.

"What is it, Artanis?" Írissë asked, running her fingers through Artanis' tresses, removing hints of ice here and there. "Thou canst tell me anything, nettenya."

Artanis curled into Írissë's arms, weeping. "When thou goest with Túrucáno," she whispered, "obey him, Írissë. Do not leave his demesne unguarded. Promise me, nettenya, thou wilt be safe."

Írissë gently pushed her touch-starved cousin away, studying her hungry, haunted eyes. "Of what dost thou speak, Artanis? Didst thou See something? Hast thou told me all?"

"I did, but I cannot, and I will not speak of what I do not understand," Artanis whispered. "Just...please, Írissë, remain on guard."

"I will," Írissë vowed, and when Findarato arrived, harp in hand, he played softly for the nissi, sending them both into dreamless sleep, where they might be safe. As safe as the Ice ever could be, that is.