all in fading light by arafinweanappreciation  

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all in fading light

things to remember for this fic: Andreth's name means "patience" in Sindarin.

anyway. woe. aspec finrod be upon ye 🧍🫴💫

Finrod jolted awake in the dead of night, heart pounding. The only light came from the banked fire in his bedroom’s hearth. For a split second, he could not recall why he had woken.

Then it came again, the urgent, booming knock against his door like the thunder that rolled overhead.

Fumbling a little in the dim light, Finrod threw on a robe and flung open the door, half-expecting Edrahil. He found, instead, his youngest brother, still cloaked and storm-soaked and dripping. His eyes were rimmed with red, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. 

“I made a mistake.”

It took some time to convince Aegnor to calm down enough to stop pacing the room like a madman, get dry, and explain himself. Now Finrod was not so sure that he should have made the effort.

The crackling of the rekindled fire filled the tense silence between them. Aegnor stared into his tea and his shoulders were hunched beneath the quilt Finrod had given him. His wild hair still shone damply in the firelight. Finrod, meanwhile, was doing his best to take the anger roiling in the pit of his belly and put it in a jar until it could be put to some more productive use. It was not cooperating. Some of it still seeped into his voice when he finally deemed himself calm enough to speak without spitting venom. “You left without saying anything? Nothing at all?”

“What else would you have me do?” Aegnor exclaimed, finally looking up. Although, if Finrod was correct, there was a sort of pleading sincerity underneath the offense. After all, if all he had wanted was sympathy, Angrod was much closer. Finrod wondered darkly, as his thumb brushed over the base of his first finger, empty of any ring, exactly how much his little brother knew.

“Not that!” Finrod returned. “Does she not deserve to know the reason, at least?” Aegnor had been sparse about the details, and Finrod was not eager to drag more out of him, but nothing he had provided managed to paint a flattering image of his decisions. He wished fiercely that Aegnor had come to speak to him about this earlier, for the sake of everyone involved. He may not have been the best source of romantic advice, but he at least could have reminded him of the inevitabilities of becoming close with one of the Edain, rather than leaving it to a sudden epiphany years into the relationship. That he was well-acquainted with. Far too well.

“She would have talked me out of it,” Aegnor said miserably, burying his hands in hair, which was frizzing violently as it dried. “She’s good at that.”

“Then leave a note!” Finrod exclaimed. He was not innocent of such transgressions himself, he knew, but at least he had afforded Amarië that, much as it must have stung to have it in writing rather than voice. Stars, he wished she were here just now.

Aegnor only shook his head, once again staring at the ground rather than meeting his brother’s eyes.

Finrod sighed deeply, rubbing his temples and trying to stem the flood of guilt suddenly attempting to overwhelm him. He would have time enough for that later. He always did. “How long?”

Aegnor shrugged. “Three winters, I think? That summer I spent hunting in Dorthonion. She was wandering by the lakeside.” The description of the season did not exactly narrow it down. Aegnor spent most of his summers that way, and had since the siege had proven strong enough to allow for such pursuits.

Almost four years, and not a word of his leaving. If this adaneth ever saw Aegnor again, she’d probably kill him. Finrod was surprised that she’d allowed it to go on for so long without pressing for marriage, or at least engagement. He’d never heard of an Atani courtship lasting so long, at least among Balan's people. “A woman of surpassing patience, I see,” he muttered.

Aegnor finally jerked his gaze up to meet Finrod’s, suddenly pale with horror.

Finrod frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Aegnor lied, shaking his head again. “I only– It’s nothing.”

Finrod’s frown deepened. Aegnor was keeping something from him. Finrod turned over the conversation in his mind, searching for hints. It was also strange that Aegnor would not give him her name–

The realization crashed into Finrod like the incoming tide. “Andreth!?” he cried, suddenly on his feet. There was no time to attempt even the appearance of calm. This new anger was ripping the words from his chest before he could even think.

Aegnor cut him off, eyes blazing in self-defense as he slipped into the half-forbidden tongue of their mother’s people. “I did not know that you knew each other when—”

“That does not matter!” Finrod said, also dropping Sindarin in favor of Telerin. It was easier to argue in the language of their childhood rather than diplomacy. Besides, it afforded them some privacy. “It shouldn’t matter whether she knew me or not! You should not have done this!”

But the fact was that it did matter. Some nameless maid of Balan's house was bad enough– but Andreth? For whose naming he had been present, who he had helped to teach to read and write? To whom one of the unfinished letters on his desk was addressed? For her to be the one bearing his brother’s betrayal? That was too much. For Aegnor to have done this, knowing– To have deliberately tried to keep it from him–

Finrod turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose and attempting to regain some control of himself. His own brother.

He took a deep breath and watched the shadows dance across the tapestries hanging on his walls.

“What?” Aegnor cried from behind him. Finrod could see his expansive gestures mirrored in his shadow. “Would you have me marry her? Bring her to the precipice of our lands, away from her people? To the very borders of that thing that took our grandfather? To be the first to face the onslaught when the siege breaks? What kind of life is that?”

“Perhaps you should have asked her,” Finrod hissed, doing his best to ignore the bitter taste of hypocrisy on his tongue. He had made that mistake, and he could not allow his brother to do the same, fruitless as his efforts might now be.

“I’m trying to protect her.”

“Really?” Finrod asked, finally turning around and doing his best to keep his voice even. “Or are you trying to protect yourself from losing her? It will happen either way.”

Aegnor’s eyes flashed dangerously, and he closed the distance between them, jabbing a finger into Finrod’s collarbone. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here,” he growled. “I should have known you would have known nothing about this. What would you know of love? What would you know of caring about anyone other than yourself?”

The tide of memories won this time, pooling in the parts of Finrod’s mind that he could not ignore. Amarië’s fervent assurance that she wanted to go with him. Waiting for hours on the agreed-upon day for any sign of her. Giving up and going to her family’s home. Speaking to her sister at the door, who had told him, with a furtive glance behind her, that Amarië was indisposed, and not likely to speak with visitors. The numbness that had come over him as he made the decision for both of them. As he had taken the easy way. The coward’s road. Over and over again.

And, of course, the years and years and years without her, the ones he did not like to dwell on, where everyone around him had been falling in love and pairing off and marrying and the desire for any of it had never come to him. The confusion and awkwardness and the insidious fear that there was something secretly, deeply, irrevocably wrong with him. The one that still clung to his shoulders like cobwebs.

His breath caught in his throat a few times before he managed a full inhale.

As soon as he could, he raised an arm and pointed towards the door. “Get out.” He could see the regret already beginning to rise in Aegnor’s eyes as his brother stepped back, opened his mouth to say something, but Finrod did not care, and shut his eyes against it. “Get! Out!” he shouted.

After a moment, he heard footsteps and the door.

The air stilled, and he was alone.

Chapter End Notes

btw I have not read the full athrabeth yet, and I usually aim for vague canon compliance (or as close as we can get in this fandom), so please let me know if any of this directly contradicts the text! dw, i'll have fun seeing how I can make this work anyway.

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