Mana ngwen polne mai náne [Unfinished - Discontinued]

Nerdanel’s breathing became raspy. What Námo had said was repeating in her head, not once leaving her thoughts. She felt herself ill, like a piece of her was missing. Her husband, the nér she was ready to forgive and move on with, wasn’t the same that was currently sitting behind Námo, trying very hard to not be seen.

“How?” She heard Nolvo’s voice, his hand gripping the fabric of the couch. “How can this happen?”

The Vala only shrugged. His face a blank canvas, but his eyes, they were confused. “I have never seen this happen. Not once.” He sighed, turning to Fëanor- Well, Fëanáro. “Mayhaps we should move this to a more… Private setting. And later.”

“Later?! You want to move this later?” Maitimo had stood, looking lost. “Our- His- A fëa is missing!”

“I know that, Nelyafinwë Maitimo.” The booming voice of Námo made her shiver. And her… Husband? Shivered too, looking scared. “I have notified the others. Estë knows already. But we need time.” He stood, and a Maia appeared. “Liesta[1] will take you all outside. I will- We will come to you.” With that, he was off. Disappeared in a reality bending way, leaving them alone.

For a while, she couldn’t even move. Her thoughts became muddy, disoriented. Thoughts and memories repeating in her head, about them, their family. Of happier times. And now… Now she might never get it back. Not like it would have come back anyway. There are things you can’t will back.

“Well, Fëanáro.” The nér in front of them stiffened. “I think we should all head out.” It was strange. Seeing Indis taking charge of things. Being composed, even with the revelation of this… Thing.

Liesta was still standing behind Fëanor- Fëanáro.

He is Fëanáro. Fëanáro. Fëanáro. Not your Fëanor. Not the one who you fell in love with, not the one who damned your children with his Oath. Not the one who committed crimes and wrote history with it.

He is Fëanáro.

It seemed the Aini[2] was adamant at staying near him, something that caught all their attention, when they were walking towards the exit. But neither voiced it. Perhaps Námo thought he might need it, seeing how both her son and Nolvo acted. Now, both were in deep thoughts, fist clenched. The rest weren’t better either. Each family member present was grasping the fabric of their clothes or clenching their fists. Some even bit their lips, eyes stubbornly staring forward. As for Fëanáro… He tried to hide behind the Maia.

“We should reach the entrance soon. Am I to assume you will need a way back to Tirion, Alqualondë and Valimar?” Nerdanel blinked. This Maia was certainly different than the one who brought them here. That one wanted them gone as fast as possible.

“T-That would be preferable. Thank you.” She found herself answering. Looking back, she saw the sudden panic in Fëanáro’s eyes. And so, she fell back, waiting until he was in a comfortable talking range.

He had met her eyes, a hint of fear in them, before looking away. Nerdanel wasn’t sure what to say, what to ask from him. But she had to say something! She wanted to know why. She had come, prepared with questions and unsaid words. Regarding badly worded oaths and damning their children. But now… She was at a loss.

“What do you like being called?” She finally settled on this one. They have called him Fëanáro, out of habit mostly, and because Fëanor was… Someone she had confusing feelings about. A lot of them did. And if the new… Fëanor- Fëanáro has a name preference, who was she to refuse.

“I uhm… Fëanáro is fine.”

Nerdanel raised a brow. “Is it?”

“Y-Yeah. If you are uncomfortable with it-“

“Quit playing around!” The harsh voice of Turucáno made her glare at her nephew. He was ever the hot-headed, quick to anger nér he always was. Even before his death and re-embodiment. Even Mandos couldn’t calm his temper. “No need for plays and scenes now!”

“I don’t-“

“Oh, shut up Turgon!”

“What? You all want to say it! You all know how he is!”

“Curvo calm down.” Grabbing his brother by his collar, Maitimo pulled Curufin back to his chest. “I’m sure our cousin is just confused. Just as much as we all are.”

Turgon sneered. “Big words coming from you.”

“Turvo, that’s enough!” Nolvo’s warning voice carried little merit for his second son.

“Why? Where was this calmness and smarts when it was needed the most?” Turgon had his hands in a fist. “Perhaps the years in Angband taught you something!”

The punch wasn’t a small one. Nerdanel heard the skin ripping, saw blood and maybe teeth fly and saw her nephew fall to his back. Where Turgon stood, not a blink ago, was now an angry Findecáno. Right arm curled into a fist, knuckles bloody and bruised. He was breathing heavily, through his gritted teeth, and his eyes were staring into his younger brother’s.

Nerdanel didn’t miss Fëanáro flinch, nor how her eldest froze and became unresponsive, or the clear anger Findecáno had in his eyes. “That will be enough brother." Her eldest nephew hissed, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Findecáno! Turucáno!” Nolvo was standing between his sons, lifting up his secondborn by his arm. “It is enough. Both of you stop this.”

“Whatever.” Turgon pulled on his arm, fully intent on walking back to his house. Nolvo let him go, watching as he walked over to the nearest tree and stopped.

“Where should I bring you?” Liesta asked, breaking the silence. “Or would you all like to go to Tirion?”

“I think going to Tirion would be best, but-“ Indis sighed, looking at her grandson, then at Maitimo, then at Fëanáro. “I think it would do us good if you took those that live in Tirion first. We have… Other things we need to collect.”

Liesta nodded, though she cocked her eyebrow. “How many of you live there?”

“Most of us.”

The Aini nodded. “I will take you in pairs, if that’s alright?” When no one spoke she just sighed and looked at the group that formed around her. “Who should I take first? Perhaps the King will-“

“I uh… Yeah, yes. I- I think I need to be first.” Nerdanel felt for her brother-in-law. She knew from both Anairë and Eärwen that Arafinwë had remained alone, even after Findaráto’s re-embodiment, even after Artanis had returned, and before that. Seeing the awkward, nervous nér, she decided it was time her friend and her husband rekindled their love.

“Maitimo will go with you.” She didn’t mean to. It was a habit. But seeing her son shiver when she spoke his name made her sadness return. It was a feeling she got when she felt their ósanwë leaving. When she lost them. Like someone thrusted a knife into her heart, twisted it around. Poking her with hot iron and tearing her hair slowly piece by piece.

But her son didn’t say anything, just took Liesta’s other arm. When Arafinwë looked back at Nolvo and his mother, Indis sent him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Go. We will follow after we sort ourselves out.”

And the Maia was gone, in another reality bending way. Nerdanel watched as the remaining quendi[3] separated. The Nolofinweans and Indis were forming a circle, with Írissë and Turucáno standing as far away from each other as possible, while Findecáno was glaring daggers at his brother, Nolvo holding him by his arm.

The two sons of Arafinwë – Angaráto and Ambaráto – were in the middle, not looking too pleased with going to Tirion and sharing the same living space as them. As for her sons, the five of them was quiet, distancing themselves from their cousins and their… Father. She would travel with him, she knew that. She didn’t want any of them to do something stupid.

Liesta was back again, in what seemed like seconds. “Who is next?”

Arafinwë’s two sons stepped forward, taking the Aini’s hand and they were gone. Two by two, her sons had disappeared to, until it was only her and Fëanáro. Indis had taken Findecáno and Írissë, while Nolvo had taken Aracáno and Turucáno. From the looks of it, Indis would be heading to Valimar, to bring Findis, Findaráto and his wife back to Tirion, while Nolvo was off to Valar know where. The animosity between his children was huge, something she hadn’t seen since Fëanor and his siblings. The glares, the anger and hurt. But the hate was new. Even in his maddest days, Fëanor never had the same shades they had. But then again, Fëanor never fought and saw battle or death before Beleriand. And this version…

Speaking of Fëanor… Fëanáro! The nér was quiet ever since Turucáno had blown up on him. Silently standing aside, stubbornly looking at his feet and not speaking anything to anyone. Not even glancing up when the others left, and Nerdanel feared he might up and bolt. Run until he was lost somewhere. And from the way his head was slightly tilted towards the woods, the gripping feeling in her chest returned.

“You can talk to me, you know?” She heard herself saying. “You don’t have to resign yourself to silence.”

The nér beside her nodded. But didn’t say anything. Just kept staring at the ground. So much like her Fëanor…

“Turucáno is just… confused by this. Being let out of Mandos the same day this happens isn’t… A good thing.” She continued to explain her nephew’s antics. And it shocked her too. “He didn’t mean any of that.”

“What?” His voice almost a whisper. The same tone her husband used when he was confused, the same way his eyes widened… Nerdanel found herself looking at the clouds behind his head, in case she breaks down crying in front of him.

“Things happened.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him what and why. “You and our boys… It has been a while since m- our house was filled with laughter.”

Liesta appeared before them. Before Fëanáro could ask anything. Before she could clarify. But Nerdanel didn’t mind. She wasn’t sure she could hold back her tears otherwise. It was hard enough as it is. Learning your sons and husband were to be let out of Mandos, finally reunited, their Oath be damned. Then learning your husband is not yours anymore. His fëa changed. Not only younger, but completely different.

Grabbing Liesta’s hand, she waited until Fëanáro moved to the Maia’s other side before looking at him again. He was confused, scared. She only hoped the Valar knew what to do. And in a blink, she was standing in Tirion, in the palace Arafinwë now occupied. And it felt weird. Standing here again, after so many yéni she spent avoiding this place. Mostly for the memories it brought… And maybe because she didn’t want to be reminded of what she had lost.

“The King said he is in the private study.”

“Thank you, Liesta. We don’t want to hold you from your duties.”

The Maia eyed Fëanáro for a moment before bowing. “Take care. I’m sure Lord Námo will return to you with his answer shortly.” She disappeared again, and Nerdanel reached for Fëanáro’s hand. Only for him to pull it away.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just… You are Nerdanel. B-but not mine.”

At least they were on the same page. Yet it hurt. His rejection. Even when it was founded. But why? Why did it hurt so much more?

“It’s fine.” She hoped her voice didn’t break. “Do you- Have you been in the private study yet?” She smacked herself mentally. Of course he has been there! It was his father’s before… Before it wasn’t.

“Uhm… Not really?”

Nerdanel stopped in her tracks, looking at the nér before her with brows furrowed. “What do you mean not really? It was Finwë’s before! Haven’t you been visiting him?”

Fëanáro looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with his sleeve. “It’s… That is… We haven’t visited him. Much.”

Nerdanel gaped at him. “Why?”

“I-“ Fëanáro shook his head. “It’s a long story. It might not be the same here.”

Nerdanel bit her lip, enough to draw blood. She won’t ask. Yet. Instead she nodded, and turned back around, leading them to the study. Her mind was racing though. Trying to decipher her- Fëanáro’s reactions was hard enough. He seemed to have, seemed to be nervous about his father. But why? What happened with him? Them? Weren’t they close? Did something else happen? Something she didn’t consider before?

As they navigated the palace halls, Fëanáro caught up to her. “Why is Ingo living here?”

“He is the king.” For now, she ignored the way Fëanor- Fëanáro was referring to his half-siblings by their mother-names. She can ask later. At least, she hoped she can.

“Huh? Did, did Finwë die?”

“I- Yes.” Her brows furrowed again. She will have wrinkles before the day is over. “It happened Ages ago. You and Nolvo left for Beleriand, and Ara was left here to rule.”

“Oh…” The same expression he had on his face when Námo said their- her son’s name returned. Nerdanel sighed, trying to keep her cool.

“Listen, we can talk about everything that happened.” ‘Just not with me.’ “But for that we need to get to the study.”

“I- Right. You are right. Let us continue.” He hung his head low and followed after her. But the way he walked… So uncertain, so jumpy… So scared.

Reassuming their walk, Nerdanel kept glancing at the nér. It looked like he was deep in thought, and she wished for their ósanwë to return. That way she could- They could talk that way. She could decipher what he means, what he wants to say easier. Her Fëanor was someone who could stall in a conversation too, searching for the perfect words. Pity he couldn’t think a moment longer when he swore that oath. When he decided action was the best answer and refused to think about the outcome. But even she couldn’t foresee what horrors Beleriand would bring to her family. Her children.

Grimacing, Nerdanel turned a corner. From the number of voices she heard, the rest were already there. Waiting for them. Just a few more steps. And it would be answered. Just a few more steps, and she can ask what had been on her mind and in her heart. Just a few more steps…

“Nerdanel?”

“Hm?”

“Does, do we- I mean, will everyone be here?” Standing from one leg to the other, Fëanáro bit his lip, looking nervous. “Just- I don’t want to… I mean-“

“Finwë is still in the Halls of Mandos.” She replied slowly. This nervousness… His nervousness was getting to her too. “If that’s what you wanted to ask.”

“I- That’s, uh- G-good? I mean, not what I wanted to ask. But- Ah! Let’s just go inside.”

Nerdanel nodded. Though her expression was that of a curious elfling’s. But she shook her head. Now is not the time. Once they had this sorted out. Once it was over. Once she had her husband back. Then they can talk a lot more. Now, now it was time to get to the bottom of this. Stepping aside to let Fëanáro enter first, she noticed his nervous glances and shaking hands. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to bolt back to Mandos any moment.

“It’s just a small talk, right? Nothing, nothing else?”

“As far as we had the time to agree on anything.”

Fëanáro ducked his head. “Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Nerdanel watched as he slowly opened the door. “I’m not going to get punched again by Enyo this time around, am I?”

Huh?

“Huh? What do you mean?” Her voice must have been louder than she intended it to be. As the faces in the room turned to them. “By who?”

“I- Enyo? Our, our son?”

“Ammë, what’s wrong?” Carnistir had come over, eyes staring at Fëanáro.

“What- what do you mean our son?” Her voice broke at the end.

“We should wait for the others to arrive first.”

“Everyone is here. No one is missing.” Came the ever so light voice of her eldest Arafinwean nephew.

Fëanáro turned his head to face Findaráto, eyes wider than before. “Everyone?” He asked, voice shaking and lips trembling.

“Yes.” Their golden haired nephew clarified, with curious glances and raised eyebrows.

“But where are the others?”

“What others?” Her- Fëanáro now had the attention of everyone. Her sons watched him with raised eyebrows. Undecided whether or not they believed him. Believed him to be someone else with the same hröa as their father. The rest watched him intensely as well. Quick glances between them, but an eye always on him.

“We should sit.” Walking over to them, Indis placed a hand on the small of her back and gently pushed her to sit. “There is a meal prepared for us. A late lunch. I have told the servants to not disturb us until we are ready.” Taking a seat next to her youngest son, Indis fixed her gaze on Fëanáro again. “Let’s start with what you said. About there being others?”

Nerdanel heard the nér next to her gulp. “I-I’m not-“

“What others were you talking about?”

“It’s… You and Finwë had other children.” When the only answer was Indis’ raised eyebrow, Fëanáro continued. “You had Vanimë, shortly after marrying him.”

“How shortly?” Came Indis’ next question.

“Uhm, about five years or so? I was a child. We were small. It was a surprise. I didn’t-”

“Why?” Nolvo was eyeing his half-brother, arms crossed.

Fëanáro shifted in his seat. “He never told me. That he would marry. We didn’t know.”

“What?” The whisper was almost unheard.

“Why?” Lalwendë stopped twisting her hair. “It’s not something atya would do.”

Fëanáro grimaced. A sad, knowing smile appearing on his face. And how stramge, how weird it was to see. “There are times when I wish that were true.”

“What does that mean? You are not making any sense!” Nolvo sat back in his chair, looking puzzled. His previous anger now nowhere, yet he wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of his half-brother being replaced either.

“I don’t know, if… This Finwë is different from, mine. But he hasn’t told me about his new marriage. Ina didn’t know either. He didn’t tell us anything. When he would do it. Or who he would marry. Or why. If it wasn’t for tatyatar[4], we would have learned of it much later. Even with Ina seeing you, we didn’t put it together for a while.” His voice died down again. The air in the room was thick, and even Turucáno kept his mouth closed. There was something in the way Fëanáro spoke about Finwë that made Nerdanel uneasy. “He was never- He stopped being my father a long time ago.” He didn’t meet their eyes. Choosing to run his fingers along the wooden table instead.

The room became quiet once more. Each of them trying to make sense of what they just heard. Her sons kept staring at their…Father, while she watched Indis and her children. Each having a different curious expression on their faces.

“But, after your marriage, Vanimë was born soon. Then Cáno. Lalwendë, Ingoldo and then Faniel and finally Finrún. I know it was a shock when you discovered you were pregnant with our youngest brother.” The nér finished quickly, wanting this meeting to be finished soon.

“Our?”

Fëanáro snapped his head back. Eyes looking questioningly at the youngest son of Finwë. “Yes. He is mityamil’s youngest-“

“Whose? Who is mityamil?” Nolvo shook his head, gently massaging his temples. His eyes focused on Fëanáro, yet he didn’t seem to notice his half-brother’s frown.

“Indis. It’s something we- I’m sorry. It’s, something I call her.”

“What does it mean?” Arafinwë’s question was out of genuine curiosity. He wasn’t glaring at Fëanáro with anger or disgust, just looked at him with sad eyes.

“It means heart-mother.”

“Oh. That’s… Unexpected.” The king of the Ñoldor leaned back, glancing at his mother, who was staring at Fëanáro with and open mouth. “But… A welcomed one.”

“Ammë? Are you alright?”

Indis waved away her eldest son’s concern. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry. It’s just, a lot to take in. Having two children I never knew…” Shaking her head, Indis turned her attention back to Fëanáro. “Who else is there?”

“What? They aren’t here…” He stuttered, fingers digging into the hard oaken table.

“You said we had a son. Enyo?” Her voice was like ice. She could hear her sons’ gasps. But she wanted to know. Needed to know. Who else was present in his Arda? Who else did they were robbed off for reasons unknown to them. Who else?

“What?” Their voice was but a whimper.

“Our twins-“

“The Ambarussar?” She asked, not truly understanding.

“N-no. Our firstborns. The twins. With silver hair and pale eyes. Meda and Enyo?” His voice was thin, almost like a small breeze. Her fingers grasped the fabric of her clothes.

“We have other siblings?” Nerdanel reached out with her free hand, gently brushing it against Maitimo’s. Squeezing it slightly before letting it go.

Beside her, Fëanáro shrinked in size, and he wasn’t a tall nér to begin with. She heard him gulp, but he nodded. “Yes. An older brother and an older sister.”

“Sister?” The voices of her sons were almost unheard by her.

“I have a daughter?” She mumbled, staring at the table with wide eyes. Everything she wanted…

“Daughters. We have four. Meda and the triplets.” And the pain got worse.

“Excuse me.” Nerdanel stood, chair clattering behind her as she left the room. She could hear voices shouting for her, but she didn’t care. She had to be alone. She needed to be alone for a while. To think. To make sense of it all. To calm her mind and think clearly. To not ask scream at the skies, at Ilúvatar for denying her a daughter when it was all she wished to have. To think and not slap Fëanor for playing cruel tricks on her. To not… To not feel. She needed time to not feel. But the tears were already falling before she could round the hallway the study resided in. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, yet they kept coming. Years of feelings now poured out of her, and in a while, she wanted to be left alone.

[1] to heal + fine thread

[2] female Ainu

[3] speaker

[4] tatya – second; atar – father; lit. father in law