A Very Fire by Deborah Judge  

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Not the Only Valiant

Death is confusing, especially for those who have never seen it before. So is starlight.

Feanor and his sons take the oath.

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In the dark outside his grandfather's home Maedhros watched the stars. In Finwe's childhood these stars had been his only light but, strange as it was, Maedhros had never seen them before outside of the visions his father and his teacher had shown him. Each star was a single bright spark. The light they gave was only enough to shine, not to illuminate. It was not a way that Maedhros had ever thought lights could work.

Grandfather Finwe had left these stars forever for the lights of Valinor. They had only returned after his death.

Maedhros thought about the dark-Elves, their sundered kin in Middle-earth. They had not come to Valinor and had kept the stars, and the threat of death that Grandfather thought he had forever escaped.

Maedhros had never known a dead person. He had heard, of course, of the story of his grandmother, but she died when his father was born so to Maedhros she was nothing but a story his grandfather sometimes told. Maedhros had watched as the dark shape took his grandfather's life, carving gashes in his body where blood and innards dripped out of him. He had not thought to do anything to stop the bleeding. It had not occurred to him until later that there was anything he could do.

After his grandfather's death he had gone with his brothers to the Ring of Doom to tell the Valar what had happened. Feanor had come back with them but then had run off into the night. No one knew where he was. Some of his brothers were looking for their father, others were sitting with their dead grandfather. Celegorm was holding his hand. Maedhros had come to sit outside by himself and watch the stars. No one had any idea what to do when someone was dead. Maglor would try to express it in music, he said, would write songs for him, but so far no songs had come.

Maedhros felt Fingon before he saw him, the tendrils of his mind reaching out in concern. He had stayed with Finwe's body, the only representative of his House. "Turgon's here," he explained, then sat next to Maedhros so close they touched at the hip. Fingon put his arms around Maedhros's waist and his forehead down on his shoulder. It felt easy, simple, like nothing had been for the last twelve years.

"My father is out waving a sword," Fingon said. "Shouting that Morgoth is a coward for attacking his father unprepared and should show his face if he wants to challenge the house of Finwe."

"Maybe we should get him a better sword then," Maedhros said. Was this what people did when someone died? Did they fight? Was that what fighting was for?

"Not necessary," Fingon said. "If Morgoth shows up I'll be out there in front. And so will you."

"But you don't think he will," Maedhros said. Fingon shook his head, working himself deeper into Maedhros's arms. It made sense. If Morgoth took the Sillmarils he wouldn't risk them or himself until he did...whatever he was going to do with them. Rather than answering, Maedhros took one long finger and traced it down the back on Fingon's neck. He was rewarded by a shiver that Fingon made no effort to hide, going through Fingon's body and back into Maedhros.

Is this what to do when someone dies? He wondered if it was like this for the dark-Elves, when they lost a loved one in battle, if they go to their closest friend and find ways to be close to them. He kept stroking Fingon's hair. It felt good.

He felt a spark flicker from Fingon, then felt him pull it back, hesitant. There was no reason to hesitate. Hadn't they always been there for each other? "Can I kiss you?" Maedhros said. When Fingon nodded into his shoulder he kissed Fingon's forehead, then his nose, then finally, at last, his lips. It was a soft kiss, gentle. He still felt it down to his loins. This is what life feels like, he thought, when we need to remember that we are alive.One kiss followed another, bodies pressed close together. Around them was only starlight.

But their grandfather was dead and Valinor was inexplicably dark. As they sat together in the grass, their minds coming together, they could not disguise from each other the tension and fear that they were trying to push away.
.
That was how Maglor found them. "Father is in Tirion," he said. "You need to come now."

*

Feanor stood in front of the court of the High King wearing the crown he had taken from his father's body, still covered with blood.

"Here once was light," Feanor said, "that the Valar begrudged to Middle-earth, but now dark levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the thankless sea? Or shall we return to our home? In Cuiviénen sweet ran the waters under unclouded stars, and wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still and await us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city!’

The crowd was large and it grew. Fingon thought no one would notice him in a crowd that size, but Feanor set his eyes on him firmly. "I am not the only valiant in this valiant people," Feanor said.

And of course he was not. Fingon remembered the lands that Feanor had shown him, the crown over his face. He thought about going there, himself, to fight, himself, not waiting or hiding behind anyone, Valar included. He saw Feanor standing wearing his own father's blood, grief in every inch of his body, and still speaking of action and hope and a next step they could take. This is what you were trying to teach me,, he thought.

*

Without the light of the Trees there was no way to mark the changing time so Fingolfin had no idea how long he ran. He knew the evil being that had killed his father escaped north so he ran north after him, but soon was lost in dense forest. Morgoth, Feanor had called this being that had killed their father. Morgoth, Fingolfin shouted. Everything was dark around him, but no enemy came.

Feanor had said that he was going to be destroyed and Fingolfin had not thought to put his own body between Feanor and death. Their father had been killed and Fingolfin had not been in front of him. He had not seen his father since he sent him into exile and took his crown. "Morgoth" he shouted. If there is to be another death let it be my own.

In the light of the stars he knelt, and there, where no one could hear him, he screamed. Then he screamed again. He wanted his father. He wanted his brother to come take him in his arms. He fell to the ground and let himself cry into the dirt.

To his surprise it was his other brother who found him. Finarfin had never interested him particularly, he had always been quiet and of no particular ambition or initiative. But Finarfin too had just lost a father. Fingolfin expected he would need to pull himself together to act somehow as an older brother to his sibling, but when he went to rise Finarfin touched his shoulder.

"Feanor is speaking in front of the high court of the King upon the summit of Tuna," Finarfin said. "He has violated his terms of banishment and is wearing Father's crown."

And you think I should have it instead? the thought came. Was Finarfin offering an alliance? The thought tasted like metal in his mouth. He wanted Feanor's arms around him. He wanted Feanor's mouth under his.

"He is talking to the crowd," Fingolfin said. "You should hear what he is saying. I am afraid he is trying to go places we will not be able to come back from. You might be the only one he can hear. We are going to need to say something."

But wherever he goes I will follow. In this Finarfin at least was correct, if Feanor was speaking then Fingolfin needed to be there.

*

When he came to the square Maedhros left Fingon in the crowd and ran to Feanor's side. Maedhros stepped forward to join his family and felt the familiar presence of their minds. He felt his father's will surrounding and suffising them. Without the Silmarils at the center there was a terrible emptiness, like a gash had been torn in his father's soul.

"We will go further than Orome," Feanor said, "endure longer than Tulkas: we will never turn back from pursuit. After Morgoth to the ends of the Earth! War shall he have and hatred undying. But when we have conquered and have regained the Silmarils, then we and we alone shall be lords of the unsullied Light."

Did you not see it in the Silmarils?/ his grandfather had asked. And now his grandfather was dead, killed in front of Maedhros by whatever it was that took the Silmarils from them. The light of the SIlmarils was gone, the light for which his grandfather had given his life.

What happens when we die? his grandfather had asked. Only everlasting light made death possible to bear.

"Fair shall the end be,’ he shouted Feanor, ‘though long and hard shall be the road. But let us swear. Let us take an oath. For if we go against the will of the Valar we must know that we will hold firm to our resolve. If we cannot trust the Valar let us trust only in each other. Who will swear with me?"

Maedhros knew for what he was made, he knew for what he was formed, the grandson of the leader who journeyed across the sea in search of light and the son of the man who places the light in a jewel. He was a fighter improbably born in a land of peace. He would wage war against the dark to bring the light back to his family.

"I am a son of Feanor," he said. "I will swear."

Together with his brothers he swore the oath.

*
 

Fingon watched Maedhros and his brothers take the oath. No one else stood with them.

He hated that Feanor had done this but he was not willing to leave Maedhros alone. Not when Feanor, for all his cruelty, was correct. Fingon had seen his grandfather's body, had been too late to defend him. He was not going to leave his grandfather unavenged.

Feanor's words were in his mind. Am I the only valiant?

"You are not the only valiant of this valiant people," Fingon shouted.

*

There was still dirt on Fingolfin's face from when he was crying in the forest. It was only a short time earlier that Feanor's mouth had been open beneath him. Now his father was dead and his brother was administering eternally binding oaths that could follow them to the world's end.

Crowds were gathered in front of the High King's court in Tirion. The last time they had been here together Fingolfin had come with a plan. He had come first and let Feanor follow him into the trap he had made. Now Feanor was here and Fingolfin would need to plan quickly.

He could take the oath together with Feanor and his sons. That seems to have been what Feanor wanted. This was the oath that Feanor had crafted, strong enough to withstand a Vala. That was Feanor's plan. Fingolfin could do one better. He had no more love for the Valar than Feanor did, the Valar who had left their father to die without any of his sons. But they were powerful, and many of the Noldor would not want to rebel so openly against them.

There was a role Fingolfin could have in Feanor's plan, whether or not Feanor understood it. Few would follow Feanor and his oath. More would follow if Fingolfin gave them a simpler path. Fingolfin did not need to take his brother's oath. He had already taken a different one. He had sworn to follow and would not be left behind. "Brother," he said, "surely our father must be avenged. But you are not our father's only son."

Feanor looked to him with confusion that made Fingolfin almost change his mind. Brother, he thoughtI am not betraying you. I will never betray you.. "The host of Fingolfin need take no oaths," he said. "We have not rejected the Valar, nor their authority in all matters where it is just for them to use it. But if the Eldar were given free choice to leave Middle-Earth and go to Aman, and accepted it because of the loveliness and bliss of that land, their free choice to leave it and return to Middle-Earth, when it has become dark and desecrated, cannot be taken away."

And there it was. The words Fingolfin had spoken looked like a challenge to Feanor, an opposition. It gave the Noldor a seeming alternative. But it was an illusion. The plan he had set out was identical to Feanor's and those who followed him would take the same road. Fingolfin's challenge was not directed at Feanor but at the Valar. Were they unjust rulers, who had brought people here to take away their freedom? It was a challenge he had veiled in courtesy and so made all the more difficult to evade, but stripped of the fair words it was nothing more than asking the Valar if they wish to be known as masters of slaves.

"I have an errand in Middle-Earth, the avenging of the blood of my father upon Morgoth, whom the Valar let loose among us. Let us go not for oaths but for love," Fingolfin said "and not to seek the hidden treasures of Feanor but to find what light can be found in a place where the Trees never grew. This is the path of the house of Fingolfin."

"The house of Fingolfin and his children," said a voice from the crowd and in a moment his son Turgon was standing beside him. Aredhel ran to his side. "There are wide unguarded lands in Middle-earth and people in need of protection," Turgon said. "Let those who seek to build fortresses and cities join with our house." In a moment Turgon's friend Finrod was with him, and Finrod's sister Galadriel.

Fingolfin met Feanor's eyes over the crowd. He was following. He was keeping up. He would not fall. I will place my body between you and the darkFingolfin thought. Only do not leave me behind.

"There is a third son of Finwe," said Finarfin, unexpectedly. Although he spoke softly everyone turned to listen, because they had not expected him to speak at all. "I see you are both collecting followers. Some of them are my children. I will not fight you for them. But I do want to speak." It was hard not to think of him as very young, for all that he had grown children who had already chosen a faction.

"Father used to speak to me," he said, "of life in Middle-earth. How before he came here there were days when they would go out and then at night there was one fewer in their group. Once it was a close friend. Once it was someone in his family. They would be taken by the Hunters and never again seen. I think we do not know what it is like, for a loved one to be dead. To have someone in your life and then not be able to see them anymore because they are no longer alive. This is something we three brothers have only just learned.

"You speak of adventure, and danger, and valor, and bravery. But sometimes all that happens is that someone is gone and will not be with you that night, nor ever. We are about to do something it will not be possible to take back. This is the first death we have known in many years. In Middle-earth death will not cease.

"Feanor, you say the Valar are our enemy. They have not protected our father, who made the long journey at their call. Still, they have protected us many times over. Fingolfin, you say they will not restrain us. They are asking us not to go. Manwe Lord of Eagles, who has always been our protector, is asking us to hold back. There are many things we do not yet understand. It is time for us to listen."

It was a good speech, better than Fingolfin would have thought his little brother could give. There was even wisdom to it. But it was too late. Feanor was already committed, his oath had been taken. Even Manwe would not welcome him if he turned back. And if Feanor was going then Fingolfin would go, with any who would follow him. Though he had not sworn Feanor's oath that oath would bind him still, because he had promised to follow.

"Will any speak for the Valar?" Feanor shouted. "Will any come to respond to our complaint?"

A voice from the crowd began to speak, naming himself a messenger of Manwe. He said that the Valar would not hold against their will anyone who wished to go, but that they would also not send any help, and that these two houses together could not defeat one Vala. "So your oath is in vain," he said.

"Say this to Manwe," Feanor said. "Though we may not defeat Morgoth we have enough valor to fight him."

"If you doubt," Fingolfin said, "look at all those who stand alongside us, who will go with my house into exile."

Finarfin reluctantly stepped forward to stand alongside his son and daughter in Fingolfin's host. Despite his words, he would not be separated from his children.

"Here once was light," Feanor said. "Without it darkness everlasting will be our fate, in Valinor or out of it."

Finwe had spoken of a fire in Feanor that was a fire of the One, a fire beyond the Valar. Fingolfin would follow it to the end of his life. "It may be," Feanor said, "that Eru has set in me a fire greater than thou knowest."

*

In the aftermath of the speeches Feanor and his sons left quickly, with Fingon and a few others running after them. Fingolfin needed to speak to Feanor privately. He needed to touch his hands. What had Feanor understood, of what Fingolfin was doing? What had he seen? What had he not been able to see, in his grief and rage and strange new weakness?

He needed to speak to Feanor but in the moment he had other responsibilities. Was he still High King? Feanor was wearing the crown, but Fingolfin had the trust of the people. Few had left with Feanor. It seemed that the most part of the dwellers in Tirion refused to renounce Fingolfin as their leader. He knew that those who had agreed to follow under his host were expecting to see from him the kind of organized leadership he had shown as High King for twelve years.

Would he kneel to King Feanor? He imagined himself on his knees surrendering his will to the fire that consumed his soul. If he did, what of him would remain? In any case he had not knelt. He had followed, and brought more followers with him. For a moment he let himself imagine standing beside his brother, king and king.

I have bound myself to the impossible, Fingolfin thought. This will not be in Arda Marred.

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Chapter End Notes

Feanor's speech in Tirion is a direct quote from the book. Fingolfin's speech is mostly taken from the Shibboleth of Feanor. Some other dialogue is paraphrased.

For an AU in which Fingolfin takes the oath with Feanor and his sons go toAll Your Fleeting Life chapter 6 of A Burning Flame.