Love me and leave me to die by Flora-lass  

Finwë awoke to the sound of his son's frightened sobs, and rushed to comfort him. Bad dreams had been troubling him too often of late. When he was calmer, Finwë asked him what this dream had been about.

‘It was dark,’ Fëanáro whispered. ‘Everything went dark, and I couldn't find you!’ And he started to cry all over again.

Finwë held him close and murmured soothing words, which he firmly believed to be true.

‘But how do you know?’ Fëanáro demanded, through his tears. ‘How do you know that the Trees will always be there, and you will never leave me all alone?’

‘Our people were brought here by the Valar to live in the Light of the Trees,’ Finwë answered. ‘That will not be taken from us. And how could I ever leave you, my beloved son?’

‘Ammë did.’

‘And that,’ Finwë sighed, ‘is all the more reason why I will not. Now you must try to sleep again, and I will stay with you.’

***

The next time, it was screams of terror which woke Finwë, and Fëanáro was convinced that the Trees were going to die. Finwë took him to see Estë, and after that they stopped visiting Miriel. Fëanáro declared that he was going to work so hard at his lessons, that one day he would find a way to preserve some of the Light of the Trees, in case anything ever did happen to them. 

Finwë watched his son anxiously, but was glad that he seemed to have found a way to deal with his fears. He was such a clever child, and surely only great things would result if he applied himself like this. But he spent too much time on his own, and seldom laughed.

***-

And then, Fëanáro could barely sleep for crying, but this time it was not because of nightmares. Now his tears were angry, and his father struggled to soothe him.

‘You said you'd never leave me!’ he raged. ‘And now you're going to!’

‘I'm going to marry Indis, it's true,’ Finwë repeated, patiently and endlessly, ‘but that doesn't mean I'm leaving you. It only means that I want you to have a proper family, and not just me.’

‘But I don't want anyone else!’

‘That's only because you don't know how much nicer it will be. You need more company than I can give you.’

‘I won't share you with anyone. I won’t!’

‘Please try to understand, my son. I only want what will make you happy, and you need to trust me. And I will never, ever leave you, I promise.’

Fëanáro said no more that night, and turned his face away - but afterwards he clung to his father more than ever, for as long as he could. Indis he ignored as much as possible, and try as she might she could not seem to get through to him. And then the babies began to arrive.

Fëanáro's response was to begin to invent a whole new system of writing. And then he met Nerdanel. 

For long years, her warmth and wisdom seemed to keep the nightmares at bay. Now he had his own, large, family; and they and his work often meant that he was too busy to sleep. And at last, Fëanáro achieved what had seemed impossible to everyone but him - he captured the Light, and the Silmarils came into being. 

Sometimes, though, it felt as if the fire he had poured into them was now consuming him, and he hardly knew himself. He might have been afraid - but his father was proud of him and always took his side, even against the Valar when they found him to be at fault.

***

But then, Melkor came, and later Ungoliant too. And the Darkness of his dreams indeed descended on Valinor; just when he had, reluctantly, taken his half-brother's hand.

Later, at the Ring of Doom, Fëanáro suddenly felt a dread even deeper than the Darkness - for if one of his fears could so come to pass, what of the other? He needed to find his father, he had to…

And then the messengers arrived.

***

Fëanáro fled, in a blaze of grief and fury, and could never again be calmed or comforted. No one would ever understand how little the loss of the Silmarils now seemed to matter, compared to the loss of his father. He should have unmade them. He would have smashed them to pieces! If only, if only…

It was just that he still had some hope of reclaiming them, and vengeance on Morgoth was worthy of the most terrible oath. Fëanáro would swear such an oath - and he, at least, would keep his word.

‘But you promised!' he screamed into the night, all the way to Formenos - where only his sons awaited him.

Chapter End Notes

(Please be assured that I do feel a great deal of sympathy for Miriel. I just couldn't find a way to express it here.)

Leave a Comment