Close As Brothers by cuarthol

Close As Brothers

Ñolofin offers some brotherly advice as Arafin awaits the birth of his firstborn, and Arafin hopes the soon-to-be cousins will share a bond as well.

Ñolofin couldn’t help but smile at his brother, pacing anxiously in the garden.

“Mother will be furious if you wear a hole in her lawn,” he said, chuckling when Arafin looked startled, drawn out of his thoughts.  “And Eärwen, if you wear yourself out.”

Ñolofin slipped down from the low wall on which he had been sitting and put a hand on Arafin’s shoulder.  “You can neither hurry nor delay the future by all these dramatics.”

Arafin blushed slightly, offering a nervous smile in return.  “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “But knowing that does little to ease my restlessness.”

“Ah, too right.  But what will your lady say?” Ñolofin said, pulling his brother into a one-armed embrace and patting his chest.  “I can hear it now: ‘Ai! Arakáno, is it not the elders duty to guide the younger?  How did you let my husband become so distraught?  Did I not ask you to calm him?’”

Arafin gave a proper laugh at that, even as he gripped the end of his sash, twisting it in his hands with no less anxiety than had driven his pacing.  “How you can be so calm I cannot fathom.  Even if this is not the first.”

“All my energy has been spent watching you,” Ñolofin laughed in return.  “I am weary without any effort on my part!  But come now, this profits you nothing.  Eat something, or drink at least, and do not fret so!”

Arafin let himself be led to a nearby pavilion, laid out with sweet wines in jeweled carafes and bite-sized morsels arrayed on trays of silver and gold.  He sat upon one of the cushions while Ñolofin poured wine for them both.

“Were you not as anxious when Findekáno was born?”

“Of course not,” he said, hiding his guilty smile behind his glass as he took a sip.  “After all, I had been through Lalwen and you both.  What cause to be anxious?”

Arafin held his glass but did not drink, gazing into the honey-tinted contents as the Light played in the depths like stars.  “I suppose there is always a fear that… that Míriel will not be the only one so wearied.”

“Ah, brother.”  Ñolofin could not say he had not thought the same, but he had to confess he had feared more for Nerdanel than for Anairë.  “Those thoughts will lead to madness; do not let yourself think of it.  Be glad, for you shall be a father soon!  And I do not think anything would part Eärwen from you.”

“I know it in my heart, but still I cannot help but worry,” Arafin admitted.  “It is the unknown that drives me to madness more than anything.”

“Listen to me,” Ñolofin said, taking on the authoritative voice of the elder.  “In but a short time you will hold in your arms the most precious jewel you will have ever beheld - and you will ache and weep and not know how you can contain all the feelings in your chest, for surely you must burst with them.

“You will feel as though you would do anything for that child - face any fear, conquer any obstacle, swear any oath for their sake, and never think twice.  Your life will forever be changed, but it will be for the richer.”

Arafin gazed at his brother, having never heard him speak so before, and the little seed of fear at last slipped out.  “Will- will that be enough?  Will I- will I be enough?”

Ñolofin knelt before him and put his hands to either side of Arafin’s head, resting their foreheads together.  “I have known you since your first breath, my beloved brother.  Of all those I have ever known, you are worthy of the name father.”

Ñolofin kissed his brow softly before coaxing him to his feet.  “And think, you need not worry that the child will be lonely, for so born they may as well be twins as much as cousins!”

“That thought is a comfort,” Arafin said.  “I hope they are as close, for I know not what I would do without my brother.”

Ñolofin embraced him, but then pulled back and said, “Look, here comes the servant now to fetch us.  Wipe your tears for Eärwen’s sake, though you will cry again soon enough, no doubt.”

With their arms over one another’s shoulder they made their way across the garden to meet the servant, breathless and full of joy at the news of two sons born to them.