House of Finwë drabbles by clotho123

| | |

Chapter 1


Finwë

 

They said I loved my eldest too much, that my love was folly favouring him unfairly.  Only I knew I had loved him not enough, lost in my pain I had been a poor father to my motherless child.  Care he had, indulgence for his wishes, but ever marred with grief.

 

My younger children grew tall with loving parents and a joyous home.  It was my younger sons who had my fuller, better love, and so it was Fëanor who had forever my indulgence, for nothing could atone for the love I had not given when it was most needed. 

 

 

Fëanor

 

I failed my father.  I failed to return his love by opening my heart to his children.  Failed to care for his happiness, look beyond my own wounds.

 

I failed my wife, when I would not heed her, would not put her needs beside mine, would not believe in her wisdom. 

 

I failed my father’s people, never my people, when I did not care for them. I only demanded.

 

I failed my sons.  I put my pride first, my anger first, my vengeance first.  I made them my instruments, not my blood.

 

All failures are one.  I failed in love.

 

 

Maedhros

 

I know we are lost, for this time I cannot hold them.  The Oath rages.  I have no hope with which to hold my brothers.  If we do this all elven hands will be opposed forever, all hope of new allegiance gone.  The Darkness will claim us. But they know only the Oath will never sleep with the stolen stone in Doriath. 

 

I cannot hold them.  I can keep my own hands clean, but I will not.  Because I cannot save them, can only join their damnation, I will not stand apart.  They are my brothers and I love them.

 

 

Maglor

 

You are requited, brother, and I am punished, for failing you before.  Before Doriath, when I did not join you in opposing the assault, but held my silence. I know well why you would not leave us, and for that reason I cannot leave you now. 

 

Submission might buy me but a short peace, yet I long for even that.  I do not wish to leave my sons.  If I chose to go to Eonwë, you would not prevent me.  But I cannot leave you to do what you intend alone.  For you are my brother, and I love you.

 

 

Celegorm

 

The folk of the halls of flowering stone to ride at our call (to ride against Angband).  The alliance with the Hidden Kingdom to add to our strength (our strength against Angband).

 

And the style and the crown of a king, and the wide lands to replace the lands lost (and the warriors that died defending the land at my call).  And who to make a better king, indeed?

 

And the honour of our House that was lost, and the hope of a dead Father’s vengeance, and the Oath at last fulfilled.

 

But I did not want my cousin dead.

 

 

Curufin

 

He loved me best, but he loved in me the echo of himself, the mirror of his face, the legacy of his gifts, the skill in hand and in study of tongues.  He loved me best, and I would do anything to keep that so, but at the end he loved his Jewels and his vengeance even more.

 

My son has my face, my skill, my love of craft, but not my nature.  And because I love him I am glad.  I will not bind him to our Doom.  Because I am not my father I will let him go.

 

 

Caranthir

 

Plain for one of our folk, ungracious in manners, unremarkable, unskilled: I loved not those like myself.  I did not love the Naugrim, ugly and unmannerly, harsh in their bartering, without loyalty I thought: they proved me wrong.  I did not love the Aftercomers, drab creatures without brilliance, without strength or virtue either, so I thought: they proved me wrong.

 

I thought to learn, to have learned, when the new folk came.  Unlovely, but hardy.  In friendship with the Naugrim, fleeing westward, like the folk of Haleth.  I welcomed them.  Rough-hewn but honest folk, I thought.

 

They proved me wrong.

 

 

Amrod

 

For the fierce rock crags and the trees that grew before the sun.  For the warm grass, and the flowers that live until night.  For the running of the deer and the delving of the badger, the curve of the swallow, the song of the bee and the grey of the wolf.  For setting sun and rising moon, and rain in the wind.  For the running rivers and the deep mist and the dry, bare uplands.  

 

For the wild, fair, free lands that are worth the loss of the West.  For these (not for the Jewels), to march on Angband.

 

 

Amras

 

For the dullness of the stars, the fear of the dark and the pain of the light.  For the stench in the night, and the silence of the songs.  For the curses of the beasts, the poison of the waters and the silence of the trees.

 

For Orc-work we cannot halt, as much as for the Doom we cannot flee.  For the madness that follows and the death that we see.  For the curse that we brought, and the love we found for all we have doomed.

 

For an ending, for good or ill (for ill), to march on Sirion.

 

 

Celebrimbor

 

There are some still who murmur as I blaze the Star of Fëanor upon Eregion. There are some who wonder, knowing I disowned my father and he me.

 

I know the dark deeds of my line as well as any. Because, and not in spite of that, I use their sign.  For what use is it, to hate my own blood?  In Aman the name will ever be a curse, but here in marred Middle-earth I can redeem our name with my skill.  Here the great works of my hands will make the Star a thing again admired, and loved.

 

 

Fingolfin

 

I did not resent his greatness, nor did I want his place. 

 

I wanted he would love me, as a brother should.  He was the glorious prince, the bright flame of the Noldor.  How could I not admire, not wish to follow, not long for his acceptance if he would not give his love? 

 

But he wished I did not live.

 

Wounded I gave back wounds, anger I repaid with anger, pride with pride.  Yet still I was eager to forgive. I wanted to be free to love him, as a brother should. 

 

He hated me the more for it.

 

 

Fingon

 

The plans are yours, cousin, the work of alliance, yet I know we are right to risk so much.  You mean to win, and will fight as long as you have strength, yet I could sway you to a longer war, in hope to strike and strike again.  By nature you are no gambler, yet caution has served us ill for long enough. 

 

So let us pour all into hope of utter victory.  Let us make one stand now, and never need do so again.

 

If we lose, all will be lost.  But we will win, cousin.  We will win.

 

 

Turgon

 

I thought to keep my people from the war would keep them safe.  I thought to keep my sister safe.  She died before my eyes.  I mourned her.

 

I thought to keep my people safe.  I would not aid my kin when Morgoth assailed them.  My cousins died.  My father, when he could no longer bear the losses, died.  His ruined body was laid at my feet.  I mourned him.

 

When my brother asked for aid I gave it.  My brother died.  My people died.  I mourned them.  I gave no more aid.

 

Now there is no-one to aid us.

 

 

Aredhel

 

They said the choice of the Eldar is never wrong.

 

Is this then the Curse?

 

He said his love would never put bond or restraint upon me.

 

Is he beneath the Curse as well?

 

I said my heart would not change.

 

I did not think to curse myself for fickleness.

 

My son says if we reach Gondolin, he will never wish to leave.  He says if his father loved, he would let us go.  He says if my brother loves me, he will receive us well.

 

For once I find I pray.  Let my son be free of the Curse!

 

 

Idril

 

I know your mind, love.  I know you do not wish me to see you fail and fall, into the doom that seems crueller than death.  I know what you propose, my love, to sail alone and leave me free to take another if I choose.

 

But I will not have it so, my love.  I will not abide here, solitary, grieving for home and you.  I am not Lúthien, and cannot give up my own nature.  But I will cleave to you, Tuor.  And perhaps we may find the isles of legend, where those who set foot sleep forever.

 

 

Maeglin

 

Did she need to shun me?

 

I did not hope for marriage.  I knew their laws.  (Fine laws: that Turgon made and unmade at his will!  But I knew also I was not their king and he would not break his laws for me.) 

 

I could have been content with her kindness.  But she had to shun me.

 

Did she think I took my father’s doom, my mother’s murder, lightly?  She knew nothing of my nightmares.  How should she, when she was so eager to know nothing of me.

 

None of that excuses.  The failure in the end was mine.

 

 

Eärendil

 

None can know, who knows only the field and the wood, only the house and the tame inland water.  They cannot know the cold of salt-air, the sharpness of the sea-wind, the harshness of the wave.  The fearful frailness of the warped wood, the power of the road of gulls and whales.

 

They do not know the call of the Sea, of the wave-play, the wind-laughter, the sun upon the endless waters.  They do not know the life found in storm and calm, in struggle, venture and boundless horizon.

 

They do not know why I must return to the Sea.

 

 

Elros

 

I miss you, my brother, but it is not my nature to look back.  There is so much to be done now: a folk to make one, a land to make ours, to plan, to build, to grow, to look forward.

 

Too much for even my mortal life, but I would not have it other, would not see the work finished, would not wish for a time when there is no more to do.  I am mortal at heart and not for biding in Arda.

 

It will be for you to see the future of Númenor.  I can but hope.

 

 

Elrond

 

Do not believe I do not weep, Elendil.  Do not believe that I, who chose the Eldar kindred, do not understand your grief.

 

I loved my brother.  Loved him with a bond more than that of twins, the bond of the displaced, whose world was never certain, whose conflicts no others shared.  I loved my brother, although neither of us could choose otherwise, and I miss him still.

 

And I grieve for his fallen children, for Númenor the lost.  Grieve for his children’s children as though they were my own.  Even in their fall, I loved them.  I still do.

 

 

Finarfin

 

The love of city and people came to me late.  My love was for those nearest in kin.  I needed and asked for, no more.

 

With so much lost I wanted only to grieve; yet the Valar made me a king. Slowly I learned, with reluctance, for even in Aman love had bred chiefly pain. (And did again when I must lead my people out to war and see them die. Then I first knew the strength of the love I had learned.)

 

Now as I look on land and folk I know I am at last my father’s son.

 

 

Finrod

 

A mortal has come who would dare all for love.  Their lives are so short, yet they dare more than we.

 

My brother did not dare.  In honesty?  I advised him not to dare.  He knew so much less of mortals than I.  Such unions should not be, said I, save for some high purpose.  Yet how could I know there was no high purpose?  I wished to spare him the pain I foresaw.

 

Now he is dead, and I fear I was wrong.  He was not spared.

 

So I will help the mortal. For my oath?  For my brother.

 

 

Angrod

 

Our line are not lucky in love. 

 

So many have lost: to death, to separation on the hither shore, to a love not returned or turned to hate.  So many have lived on alone: I wonder at my good fortune, each time I take my wife in my arms. 

 

What fate lies on our line, the true Doom of Finwë to lose where we love?  Only my father and I have not lost (if in truth he has not, I can never know)

 

Now as I take her in my arms I fear.

 

My line are not lucky in love.

 

 

Aegnor

 

I should have told her the truth.

 

She deserved that much of me.  I told myself better not, that if she did not know she would take another and bear children.  I did not tell her I loved her.  I left, and she dwells alone.

 

I was a coward.  It was my heart I wished to spare, both in my leaving and my silence.  I could not think why a love so doomed should be.  (But why not?  What should I, or we, expect in Arda Marred?)

 

I could still go back and tell her.

 

I am still a coward.

 

 

Galadriel

 

They think I stooped.  Proud Lady of the Noldor, taking the hand of the Grey Elf of Doriath to bind myself in marriage.  For all you are of Thingol’s kin, and my kin too, they think I stooped.

 

You do not think it so.  In your eyes it is your pride that bent, it is you that stooped: to wed with an Exile, to love one who followed Fëanor the Kinslayer.   You forget the ties of kindred out of love.

 

And because I love you, I accept it.  I wed the one Elf who believes he stoops to love me.

 

 

Orodreth

 

I never asked for kingship.

 

I was made for king’s service, for loyalty, valour and commands obeyed.  I was proud in all things to do my king’s biding, but I did not wish him bid me take his crown.  I was not made for these choices; I do not trust my own wisdom, the king who knew me so well, could he not see this?

 

Did he not love his people, that he betray them to my care?  Was the mortal’s quest worth all the lives of Nargothrond?  Tell me, beloved liege Finrod, which of us made the worse king?

 

 

Finduilas

 

Ride now to war with my love, almost I would I had the skill to ride with you.  Ride now, and bear with you our pride and our courage.  Ride, and though I fear for you, I would not have you stay, for it is you who carry the standards of Nargothrond, that without you would not be borne this day in the teeth of Morgoth’s host.

 

Ride now to the gathering my father still refuses, and though I will not speak against him, know my mind rides with yours in this.  Ride Gwindor, and know I await your return.

 

 

Gil-galad

 

King of the Noldor: fine name but ill omen.  Our poets tell over the fates of our kings!  Their crowns lie lost or looted, our scholars argue their errors, and still, sometimes, when poets sing our people weep.

 

A small people enough now, what need of a king?  Yet a king they will have, and a king I am named.  So for this I was spared, and for them I will serve and find joy in the serving.  Do not think it an ill thing, to love a whole folk.

 

Yet still I do recall: our kings are not well-fated.

 

 

Celebrían

 

My daughter’s eyes hold betrayal.  She is sheltered still.

 

My sons’ eyes hold bitterness, but not for me.  Torture destroys: that is its purpose.  Food has no savour; the air has no sweetness; rest is not, not for me, not here.

 

My husband instructs me to go, for this is beyond his healing.  Better to leave now than to corrode, become a shrieking hag without love, without compassion.  Better to go than be devoured alive by Morgul poison. Elrond knows there are things worse than dying.

 

Arwen alone sees weakness.  She will not forgive.  I am glad.  She is sheltered.

 

 

Elrohir

 

They think we ride out for vengeance.

 

They are right only in part.  Glorfindel looks disapproving: vengeance, he says, devours the avenger.  Our father says nothing. 

 

We desire to avenge: but we ride out for other causes.  Here is life, in the speed of the horse, the strength of the sword, the sing of the bowstring and the tracks of the prey. 

 

True life is on the edge of dying.  Elven, we can find it only here.  Yet to die, now, elven, would be to remain bound.

 

The hobbit rambles of Escape from Deathlessness.  I feel our father watching us.

 

 

Elladan

 

The elves think us strange.

 

‘Elves’ I say as though we were not of them.  But we are not.  We love change too well, find all grows stale and sated too quickly, hanker after we know not what. 

 

It is the mortals who seem like kin, the men of the west we fight with, not the elves who dwell in the hidden valley.

 

I try, haltingly, to put this into words.  My sister’s eyes are uncomprehending.  My brother does not need words.  My father shakes his head.

 

“You are like Elros,” he says.  Then, “At least you are as one.”

 

 

Arwen

 

Cold is the ground in Lorien the faded.  Cold like my courage, to face the Doom of Men.  Now I understand the harness: the dread there is no life beyond the Circles of the World or but a life to be feared and fled from.

 

I can give back the Gift, as he did, at any time of my choosing.  I am too afraid.  Though I long to see him again, I am afraid. 

 

He had such trust at the end, how can I fail him now?  I must follow where he led.  Ah, Estel, give me hope once more!

 


Table of Contents | Leave a Comment