The Line of Kings by Michiru

Far-reaching Consequence

Sitting in conference in Mithrim, Angaráto knows his words in Doriath centuries before will bring ruin to Beleriand.

First Age Year 355

            “In short, we can see little reason to launch an offensive at this point in time,” Nelyafinwë concluded with a muted shrug, his left hand folded over the stump of his right wrist on the table. Somehow the posture was one of relaxation, not a sign of shame; over the centuries, Nelyafinwë had overcome his initial disgust with his body after Angamando, which he had once decried as Moringotto’s third great victory over his father.

            “So say you from Himring,” Aikanáro started, ass-stubborn as any of the Fëanárioni and determined that his words should have some effect, but Angaráto had, in the brief moments between Nelyafinwë’s final word and his brother’s first, caught the lingering perusal of Nelyafinwë’s sword-grey eyes.

            He fell back against his chair, jarring himself so badly that his teeth clipped his tongue, but he didn’t feel the flash of pain over the sudden, enveloping darkness of the Prophecy in the North. His pen—a gift from Grand-uncle Ingwë and one of the more incongruous items he had discovered to have found its way in his baggage after the Flight—fell from his limp fingers with a clatter that caused Aikanáro to stumble slightly in his persuasions. It was a labor to draw deep, even breaths, to stop them from wheezing in his throat.

            Findecáno, at his father’s right, twirled one of his gold-laced braids around his finger, frowning in his direction, concern drawing out the blue in his eyes, inherited from their grandmother.

            Now Ingoldo was speaking, softly lamenting that he had heard of none of the woes Aikanáro attested to, was turning to Artaher for confirmation, who was shrugging apologetically and saying that he had seen no sign of activity from Moringotto from Tol Sirion, but Angaráto knew it didn’t matter; if Nelyafinwë but gave his support, all others would follow suit, and Nelyafinwë would not speak in support of Nolofinwë’s proposal because once, almost three centuries ago now, Angaráto had lost his temper and revealed the truth of the Kinslaying to Elwë in Menegroth.

            He stumbled from the council in a daze at its conclusion, almost missing Findecáno, who pulled him forcefully into a side room, sitting him down and sending a servant for brandy, trying to convince him, once he discerned the source of his distress, that Nelyafinwë had long forgiven him for his indiscretion before Singollo’s throne, but all Angaráto could see was Beleriand in flames to the backdrop of his proud, bitter words.

Chapter End Notes

1. While I find the idea of vindictive!Nelyo intriguing and will admit that I originally intended for Nelyo’s motivation to be revenge, I would caution the reader that this piece is from Angaráto’s point of view, and he is not necessarily a reliable narrator (especially not later in his life).
2. What seems less obvious now than when I wrote the piece is where it’s meant to fit into canon. At the beginning of"Of the Ruin of Beleriand" we learn that “Fingolfin […] pondered once more an assault upon Angband” and that “Among the chieftains of the Noldor Angrod and Aegnor alone were of like mind with the King; for they dwelt in regions whence Thangorodrim could be descried, and the threat of Morgoth was present to their thought” (The Silmarillion 175).