For Love or Money by Lady MSM

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Feanor Returns, Somewhat Triumphantly

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Chapter 13: Feanor Returns, Somewhat Triumphantly

 

            Well, Nerdanel did show the letter to her parents like I asked her to (during which I stayed in the forge in case someone got the urge to throw something at my head), and now we’re sitting around the dinner table trying to sort things out.

“This explains a lot,” remarks Harma.

            “Aye,” says Mahtan, still sounding like he’s in shock. “Like how he didn’t seem to know who I was at first.”

            “And how he didn’t know our village’s name,” adds Harma.

            “And how he forgot to bring any clothes.”

            “And why he tried to get a room at the in first instead of coming straight to our house.”

            “And how we hadn’t known he was coming—isn’t it the usual thing to write someone a letter before ye come and study with them?”

            “And why he changed the subject whenever we asked about his family.”

            “And how he’d always hesitate before calling the queen his mother,” Nerdanel puts in. She looks at me. “What, ye thought we didn’t notice?”

            “I swear, it’s amazing we didn’t figure this out sooner,” says Harma, shaking her head. “We must be the completely daft.”

            “But Ern…Feanor, why on earth didn’t ye tell us sooner?” asks Mahtan, sounding rather betrayed.

            I sigh. “Can you deny that if you had known earlier who I was, you would have turned me in and made me go home?”

            Harma and Mahtan look at each other and shake their heads. “No,” says Mahtan. “I suppose I can’t.”

            “Exactly. I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to disappear for a while.”

            “But yer done disappearing now?” asks Harma.

            “Aye, I need to go home. My family misses me, and honestly, I miss them. But I want to thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me this month—and all the good advice you’ve had to pound into my head.” I turn to Nerdanel. “Nerdanel, if you’re at all serious about being a sculptor—which I think you are—please come to Tirion and stay with my family. We’ll get you the best training anyone could want.”

            “Can I, Da?” Nerdanel asks pleadingly. “I’ll be good, I promise, and I’ll work hard, and I’ll…”

            “If yer mam says it’s all right,” Mahtan sighs.

            “I do, but I expect ye to concentrate on yer studies,” says Harma, looking at me significantly. I guess she does know about Nerdanel and I.

            “Well, Feanor…” says Mahtan, finally getting my name right. He hesitates for a second, then chuckles. “Yer welcome.”

 

            Two days later, there’s a sort of farewell party for me in the village square. Word’s gotten out about my secret identity, and I’m surprised at how little everyone’s attitude towards me has changed. Sure, there’s some of the “I can’t believe we had a real prince staying in our town!” But mostly, people are just struggling to remember my real name.

            I spend most of the morning before the feast going all over Mahtan’s property saying goodbye to things, like the forge and Nerdanel’s workshop and the stable. Chocolate’s saddled up and ready to go and, if I had to guess at what she’s thinking, I’d say she’s sorry to be leaving.

            The last place I pause before we head off to the party is my room. It’s amazing I didn’t go out of my mind in such a tiny bedroom—I mean, at home I’ve got an entire suite and each of its rooms are twice the size of this one. But the thing is, I barely even spent any time in my room here. Most of my time was spent in Mahtan’s forge or running around outside. And for a place to sleep, this room wasn’t half bad.

            Shaking my head, I turn away. I’m starting to feet a bit choked up.

Before we start the feast, Mahtan stands up and makes a toast that makes me feel even worse.

            “Ladies and gents,” he says, “the reason we’re all here is because our very own prince is leaving town and we want to see him off right. Now, I can assure ye, I was just as ignorant of his real identity as the rest of ye were. But then again, even if we didn’t know his real name, we all knew he acted like a prince, didn’t we?” That gets some laughs. “Anyway, Feanor’s a good lad and it’s been a real honor bein’ his teacher, no matter what he calls himself.”

            There’s a bit of clapping, and then I stand up.

            “Everyone,” I say. “I just want to tell you how grateful I am to all of you for your hospitality, especially Mahtan and his family for giving me a place to live. And I know that if my father, the king…” there’s some clapping and whistling at that “…were here, he would thank you too. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of this, especially this incredible feast. Let me assure all of you that Fana’s Crossing will forever have the gratitude of the royal family of the Noldor.”

            Amid thunderous applause, I bow dramatically and plop back down in my seat. Nerdanel rolls her eyes, and I wink at her. Playing up the royal demeanor does have some benefits.

            The feast is over all too soon, even with the Ward Seven lads yelling out a new toast every five minutes. Before I know it, I’m hugging everyone and saying goodbye.

            “Ararast, you were a brilliant leader…Angaring, Lomelind, no one can drink like you two…Enjoy your new frying pan, Regiel, and thanks for setting me up with a place to live…Bril, I’m sorry I shoved you, you’re really a decent bloke…Harma, Mahtan, Nerdanel…”

            I have to stop for a moment before I can go on. It’s started to drizzle, but I know it’s not the rain making my face wet (although it does a fine job of hiding the truth).

            “I’ll miss you all so much,” I whisper. I don’t have to say anything else—we all know it’s all been said already. Each of them hugs me, and I wipe my eyes and am about to swing myself up into Chocolate’s saddle when I think of one last thing I need to do.

            “Nerdanel,” I say, turning to her. “You’ll marry me, right?”

            Her eyes widen, and she shrugs. “Probably.”

            “Great,” I say, and kiss her (yes, in front of everyone). Then, with a grin at her parent’s stunned faces, I jump into the saddle.

            “Goodbye, everyone!” I shout.

            And with that, I turn Chocolate to the southwest, and we ride off into the rain.

 

            It’s got to be nearly midnight by the time I get home. The servants are all asleep, so I put Chocolate in the stable and let myself in. My footsteps echo in the marble foyer that’s bigger than Mahtan’s entire forge, including Nerdanel’s cellar.

            “Hey, everyone!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “I’m home!”

            There’s a moment of silence, and I hold my breath. What if they don’t recognize me and I get fined for trespassing? I hear a clatter of footsteps, and suddenly the doors are thrown open and I’m looking into the surprised faces of our butler and nanny and maids and pages and cook. And last of all, my family.

            My brothers are the first to speak. “You stupid freak!” says Fingolfin. “You’re home!”

            “Did you bring us anything?” asks Finarfin (greedy little bugger, that one is).

            “Just this!” I reply, sweeping them both into a huge hug. They squirm and try to get away, but I don’t care. Even my irksome little brothers are a welcome sight right now.

            “Feanor,” says Indis hesitantly. “Is that…really you? You look so…different.”

            “Oh, this?” I say, tossing my hair and grinning. “This is the new fashion up north. I expect everyone will wear their hair the same way here soon enough.”

            “I see,” Indis says. She sounds a bit miffed—I suppose she’s the one who usually sets the new styles. “Well, I must say, Feanor, I really feel like I may have overreacted a bit…

            “You overreacted?” I laugh. “You overreacted? Indis, I’ve been living under a false identity with another family for a month because we got into a fight! I’m sorry, but I think in the field of overreacting, I’ve got you beat.”

            She smiles at that, so I turn to Father, who’s still rubbing his eyes like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

            “I thought…” he begins, but I cut him off (I’m not letting anybody finish their sentences tonight).

            “Whatever you thought, it’s not true and I’m fine. And I’m sorry. And I missed you.” I throw my arms around his neck, and we hug for at least a minute straight. I don’t care if my father made a bad choice in his second marriage and that he spoils my half-brothers and is busy all the time—as long as he’s around I’ll have a real family.

            “All right,” I say when we’ve finished. “It’s wonderful to see all of you again. But now I think I need to go to bed. Oh, and to get some dry clothes on. It’s started raining pretty hard out there. And yes, I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but right now I’m exhausted.”

            “Of course,” says Father, smiling. “Welcome home, Feanor.”

            “Thank you. Oh, and by the way, I’m engaged. I assume that’s all right?”

            More than one jaw drops open, and some of the maids start urgently whispering to each other. Fingolfin and Finarfin yell “Who’d marry you?” in unison. Indis just shakes her head.

            “You have a lot of explaining to do, young man,” she says.

            “Tomorrow,” I say. “Good night!”