Fanworks Tagged with Fëanor & Indis

monotone heartline by atlantablack

Later, when Ñolofinwë is once more drifting off to sleep, she says to Fëanáro, “Thank you," keeping her voice carefully even. She does not know what it cost Fëanáro to reach out to her when he has never before done so. Is thankful that he paid the cost and allowed her to be present.

"Which hurts more? Losing the one who gave you life or losing the one who you gave life to?" Fëanáro asks in a low voice, eyes fixed on Ñolofinwë’s chest, on the slow comfort of his continued breathing.

"Does it matter which hurts more?” She cannot believe that it does. “Pain is not a competition, Fëanáro. Even if I did lose my son to exhaustion, I would not set my pain on a scale against yours."

Or: Loop 5 & the conversation between Indis & Fëanáro after Ñolofinwë fell asleep.

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you're in the wind, i'm in the water by atlantablack

Fingolfin feels like part of him is still stuck in Beleriand, blood on his teeth and an all-consuming anger splintering out of control. Like he'll blink and once again see Morgoth's foot coming down. He wants. What does he want? He does not wish to be dead. He is, he supposes, grateful for this chance to fix things as much as they can be fixed. But he wants.

He wants for Fëanor to know him. Wants to work through all the ugly words and acts of violence that had divided them and come out the other side better for it. He cannot throw all the scathing anger in his chest at a brother who does not understand. Cannot scream at this Fëanor for burning the boats, for leaving them to the ice, for Elenwë, for Arakáno, for the countless others who had followed him and paid for it. And so what is he meant to do with the anger? He cannot swallow it all down forever and also salvage his relationship with Fëanor in this new song.

He wants, he thinks, watching a potter unmake a bowl that was marred, to un-sing himself as well.

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