hold onto me / i'm a little unsteady
Mar. 23rd, 2025 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
atlantablackRating: Gen
Relationship: Fëanor & Findis & Fingolfin & Lalwen & Finarfin
Word Count: 1,866
Content Warnings:
Summary:
The whispers that circulate through Tirion afterwards, throughout all of Aman, will be cruel. She had gotten overconfident, they say, she should have known that Finwë’s line was cursed. She should have been content with three children! The whispers never stop circulating but everyone learns very quickly that no matter how Prince Fëanáro had felt about Queen Indis to say such a thing within earshot of him was to earn his everlasting ire.
It goes like this —
Henry: Why are you here for her? You have put yourself at great risk.
Mary: Because she is my sister, and therefore one half of me.
The Other Boleyn Girl • 2008
☀︎
The whispers that circulate through Tirion afterwards, throughout all of Aman, will be cruel. She had gotten overconfident, they say, she should have known that Finwë’s line was cursed. She should have been content with three children! The whispers never stop circulating but everyone learns very quickly that no matter how Prince Fëanáro had felt about Queen Indis to say such a thing within earshot of him was to earn his everlasting ire.
It goes like this —
Finwë marries Indis and is glad despite the shadow that Fëanáro’s discontent leaves on his heart. And then Indis becomes with child and Finwë cannot stop the worry that immediately begins eating through him. Fëanáro, though not worried, does watch Indis cautiously throughout the pregnancy. If asked he would not say that he wishes her dead and in truth he does not, but in the corner of his heart, when Findis is born and Indis lives, bitter resentment sprouts with vengeance.
Findis is born and all is well! Indis is still full of life and Fëanáro hates her but he can’t quite muster hatred for the little elfling she’d brought into the world. Findis is small and round-cheeked and big blue eyes that watch him as if he is the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. Considering how boring Indis seems to be he very well might be. He cannot hate the little half-sister he has been given but neither will he allow himself to love her fully.
And then Indis becomes with another child and that resentment grows. When Ñolofinwë is born he feels the first stirrings of true hatred stir in his heart but it does not sprout. He still cannot, despite himself, hate a child that does not even understand what hatred is. The first time he holds Nolvo and looks down at the wide, trusting eyes of his half-brother he has to close his eyes against the surge of bitter grief that wells up in his chest. Half-brother he may be but what Fëanáro would give for him to be a full brother in truth. For this fallacy of a family to be true.
He thinks that they will stop after two. Looks at Findis and Nolvo and convinces himself that he can live with them. Half-siblings they may be but they still all share the blood of Finwë and so he will allow no harm to come to them. And then Indis becomes with child once more and Fëanor feels something ugly and hateful inside of him crack open. He still would not say that he wishes her dead but he hates how easily she brings more children into the world.
Finwë frets little during her third pregnancy. Bolstered by how well she handled the first two. And indeed, Írimë is born whole and hale. The first time Fëanáro ends up holding her, weeks after she’s born, she cheerfully smacks his cheek and gurgles happily at him. She is so full of life in a way he recognizes and Fëanáro hates himself for how easily he looks at her and loves her.
The moment he comes of age he leaves. Goes to Aulë’s halls and takes up an apprenticeship with the smith Mahtan and falls in love with his daughter; the most challenging, obnoxious, beautiful elf that Fëanáro has ever met. And it so very easy during all this time, to put away any and all thoughts of his half-siblings. They go to Tirion only briefly so that Nerdanel may meet his father and so they may marry in the presence of all their family. All his half-siblings greet him happily and he lets them. They are still so young and he sees no point in dampening their joy when he will be leaving as soon as the wedding as done.
The day Maitimo is born is the most joyous and terrifying day of his life. To hold his greatest creation in his arms and marvel at the weight of him, at the smallness of him. Nerdanel smiles joyously at him and coos at Maitimo and it still takes weeks before Fëanáro truly convinces himself that she will not fade. It is not so long after that he is told Indis has become with child once more.
He does not let himself feel anything about it. He pours all his joy into his small family and is only present for the new child’s birth because his father asked for him, worry heavy in his eyes. Indis has not yet gone to the birthing room when Fëanáro arrives and the moment he sets eyes on her a cool, sick stone of unease settles in his stomach, for she looks pale and wan in a way she had not for any other pregnancy and her eyes are very far away even as a clearly anxious Findis clings to her side.
Findis he realizes suddenly, as she looks up at his entrance and locks her fearful eyes onto him, is old enough to know about his mother and to truly understand the story. Nolvo is holding Írimë close, curled into the corner of the settee, and Fëanáro thinks maybe he too understands if his pale face and wobbling lip are any indication.
He takes all of this in at a glance, looks to his father hovering at Indis’ side, and does not care for the sense of foreboding that goes slithering down his spine. Indis rises with Finwë’s help and goes to leave for the birthing room. But she meets Fëanáro’s eyes as she’s leaving and there’s a spark of clarity in them as she looks at him, as her mind brushes his for the first time, and she thinks, if this goes ill, I will tell Míriel of your love for her. She’s gone before he can recover from the shock and he does not follow because in this there is nothing he can do. She will either survive or she will not.
But, he thinks, looking at his half-siblings — two terrified and one too young to know to be scared — he fears he will have to be the one to pick up the pieces. For deep in his heart, the real reason he has never been able to truly wish for Indis to fail at bringing a child into the world, he does not believe that his father will be able to handle a second loss.
In an attempt to distract his half-siblings, and himself, he does something incredibly childish and gets Findis to help him collect a wealth of blankets so that they can build a nest on the floor. At Nolvo’s request he reads to them as they wait. Írimë falls asleep first, curled up in Findis’ lap. Nolvo, his face buried against Fëanáro’s shirt, falls asleep second.
Findis leans her head against his arm and asks quietly, “If ammë,” her voice breaks terribly but she forges on, “if ammë does not make it, will you stay?”
He closes his eyes. “Yes,” he tells her, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, Findis. I’ll stay.” He does not promise that Indis will make it. And he cannot bear to tell her that he does not think he will have a choice because their father will not be far behind Indis and someone must step up and take care of them. There is no precedent for such a thing of course and he is sure that Indis’ family would take them in if they were asked, but they are his siblings no matter half or full. He does not think of how he has already given up on Indis and his father. If Indis herself had already given up hope then he certainly has none to give.
She falls asleep not long after and he sits there unmoving, listening to the quiet breathing of his siblings, and wishing he could believe that Indis will be fine and he will be able to go back to Nerdanel tomorrow and forget this all. But he cannot.
He does not know how long he sits there, but the mingling comes and goes, and Telperion is still shining softly throughout the room when the door opens and a midwife comes in, cheeks tear-stained and a small bundle held in her arms. He has to close his eyes for a moment against the confirmation of his fears.
When he opens them the midwife has stepped forward, kneeling in front of him so that he can better see the child she holds. “Indis?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.
Her voice is grieved when she shakes her head and says, “Queen Indis has gone to the Halls of Mandos.”
She holds the child out to him and he swallows, asks, “My father?”
“The king is—” she pauses, searching for the words. “The king is grieving.” She offers nothing else.
He clenches his jaw and takes the child. Looks down at his newest half-sibling and abruptly feels furious that there will now be another child to grow up knowing that they are the reason their mother is gone. His scalp is covered in blond fuzz, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and when Fëanáro reaches his fëa out the child grasps back eagerly. It is incredibly presumptuous of him to form a parent-child bond now, without even waiting to see if his father recovers, but he will not leave his sibling to suffer needlessly.
“Have a messenger sent to my wife letting her know her presence is needed,” he tells the midwife without looking away from his sibling.
“Of course, my prince,” she says. “I will arrange for a wet nurse as well.”
She leaves and he presses his forehead to the child’s, feeds him strength and nourishment as the bond solidifies, and shifts all his priorities so that his siblings sit equal to Nerdanel and Maitimo. He did not ask for this and he does not want this but he will take care of them.
Findis begins crying the moment she wakes and sees the child in his arms, Nolvo following suit when the noise wakes him. Though whether because he truly understands what has happened or because his sister crying has simply set him off as well, Fëanáro does not know. Írimë wakes last and stands to peer down at the child. She does not cry, does not yet understand that there is anything to cry about. Instead she pats the child’s cheek gently and looks up at Fëanáro curiously.
Fëanáro pulls Írimë into his lap as well and pulls Findis and Nolvo closer. Closes his eyes and hums quietly until they drop off to sleep again, exhausted from crying. Írimë joins his humming, a thread of cheer to hers that he cannot match. And that is how they sit until Nerdanel arrives, striding in with Maitimo strapped to her chest.
Fëanáro meets her sad eyes, the child tugging at the bond being threaded between them, and feels the future shift.
End Notes: Do I think Finwë is a bad father? I mean, he's not winning dad of the year, but I don't think he's awful. But like, honestly, if I lived in a world where Nothing Bad Is Supposed To Happen Ever and then both my wives died giving birth? Well. I'd probably spiral too.
Originally posted on AO3
