Not For Arda

[Curufin]

Discussion thread for this RP is here.

DATE: This RP begins in year 383 of the First Age - Andreth is 22 (26 years before the Athrabeth takes place. Nargothrond was founded around F.A. 102.

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Finrod rose from his desk, shuffling the papers he was reading into a slightly neater pile, rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose as if he had been studying too long. A single candle flickered, but it was burning low, and did little to combat the oppressive darkness of Nargothrond. Finrod lit another candle, putting it in the wall basket. Despite the darkness, he found his home comfortable. Damp and cool in the summer, damp and warm in the winter, the caves maintained a constant temperature. The damp was easily banished by roaring fires that were kept in nearly every room - although he did not have his lit now.

Leaving his chambers and going into the more brightly lit hallway, he made his way towards his great hall. Several guards acknowledged him as he passed, and he nodded to them. The silver threads in his blue tunic - which matched the silver circlet in his golden hair - caught the glint of the candles as he walked by.

Entering the Great Hall, he paused a moment to take stock of who had arrived and who was gone. The hunting party, it appeared, had returned, but the messenger he had sent to his brothers in Dorthonion had not. He would not worry yet, however - it was a long journey, and they would have to go carefully. He had received a letter from his brother Aikanáro asking an audience with him; something that had suprised Finrod more than a little. Aikanáro rarely sought his counsel, and he knew that it must be a serious matter indeed for him to do so. He had written back promptly that he would be welcome at Nargothrond any time he chose to arrive. That had been four days prior.

But for now, he would not fret - it was not so very long for a messenger to be gone. Standing at the entrance to the room, leaning slightly against the doorframe, he smiled at the scene within. There was laughter and happiness. There were even a few elf-children playing with a few human children who had sought refuge within. He was glad to see the interaction. Men were not to be looked down upon or despised, but accepted and respected for their own talents and abilities. He found them pleasant, if brief, and it saddened him greatly that so many men he had known in ages past had passed on to wherever their fate took them. The Eldar had no knowledge of the Fate of Men, other than that they did not go to Mandos - at least in the sense that the Eldar did.

Entering the room, Finrod chose a place on the floor near where the children were playing, and sat among them, cross-legged.

'May I join?'

[Aikanáro]

Nargothrond, Aikanáro thought as he tried to find his way to the Great Hall, where he had been told he might find his brother, hardly seemed the sort of place he would have guessed Findaráto would choose to live. It was too dim for his liking, too enclosed for one accustomed to the open highlands of Dorthonion. That, and so many of these hallways appeared alike to him. Perhaps he should not have turned down the offer of direction from one of the attendants who had met him outside? In this light, memory seemed to be failing him.

It had been with unusual haste that Aikanáro had departed for Nargothrond after his brother's messenger had brought the invitation. It was a matter of urgency, he had said, and only Angaráto knew the truth of it. That the counsel he sought concerned a most personal and most troubling matter. In Dorthonion it had seemed to him that Findaráto, above all others, would understand his predicament, would be able to give him the advice he desired. But now? As he wandered the hallways of Nargothrond? Aikanáro was no longer so sure. It would be better, perhaps, not to burden his brother with more worries, Findaráto doubtless had enough of his own.

Or perhaps it was only that Aikanáro was no longer so certain that his brother would tell him what he wished to hear.

Another turning, another long corridor, this one familiar, and Aikanáro quickened his pace, the hall was not far. No doubt Findaráto would not be expecting him quite so soon, but Aikanáro was anxious to see his brother again, and would have no delay. He slipped through the doorway, his entrance unremarked upon by those within, wrapped still in the dark cloak he preferred for travelling.

It was not long before he found his brother, sitting among a group of children. It brought a smile to his face - he saw the easy way Findaráto had with them, his gentle manner, and it brought to mind earlier times, before the weight of so many cares had been laid upon them all. Aikanáro had not the heart to disturb his brother, and so stood silent in the doorway, watching.

[Curufin]

Findárato, however, was instantly aware of his younger brother's presence. Looking up, he saw the cloaked figure watching him from the corner, and as soon as he could extract himself from the children, he rose and crossed the room to greet him, holding out both hands.

'Aikanáro! I am suprised indeed that you have arrived so quickly, yet pleased that you have. Have you dined? Come, take off your cloak and I shall find you a room where you may freshen up from your trip, and when you have done so and dined, then we shall talk.'

[Aikanáro]

Aikanáro glanced once again over to the children, before clasping his brother's arms in greeting, and addressing him warmly. 'I did not intend to interrupt, Findaráto, but it is very good to see you. I hope it is not too sudden, but your message did say I could call upon you anytime,' he added with a slight smile.

He unhooked the fastening of his cloak, then, and laid it over his arm as he followed Findaráto. 'I would be glad of a while to set things in order, yes,' he agreed, wondering what state of dishevelment he must appear in. He gave little thought to such matters while travelling. 'But tell me, first, is all well with you?'

[Curufin]

'Indeed, all is well, my brother,' Findaráto said, leading Aikanáro quickly from the Great Hall towards the chambers nearest his own.

'You must have come here in great haste, for I see that you have not bothered to bathe.' He grinned indulgently, and called for a servant, who came quickly.

'See that hot water is brought up for Lord Aikanáro, if you will,' he said kindly, and the girl curtsied and hurried on her way. 'Just because mother is not here, you cannot allow your hygiene to slip, brother,' he said teasingly, before becoming more serious.

'You look well, though. You have a glow to your cheeks that I have not seen before.'

[Aikanáro]

At his brother's teasing, Aikanáro laughed. 'It was my thought that it was better to see you, even attired as I am, than to delay longer. Less inattention to hygiene than,' he paused, grinned at Findaráto, 'brotherly concern. It has been too long. But I am sure,' he commented wryly, 'mother would be horrified, and most approving of you, that you remind me.'

'Although I fear,' he said then, lightly, 'she might want me also to suggest that you spend a little more time away from your books.' Findaráto was paler than he remembered, and did look a little tired. Aikanáro knew his brother well enough to guess the cause. 'But there is time enough for talk of that, I suppose,' he said as the servant girl returned with his water.

'I shall meet with you again in the hall, when I am fit for company?'

[Curufin]

'No, come to my chambers, I believe. I do not think I have the energy tonight to play with the children, and I am certain they will make it impossible to ignore them if I return to the Great Hall.'

He smiled, but it was a bit weaker than usual, and he pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, before looking up at his brother again.

'I am glad that you have come, Aikanáro. I shall see that a tray of food is sent to my chambers for you. Refresh yourself, and I shall see you presently.'

With that, he left Aikanáro to bathe, and returned to the quiet of his chambers. They were, of course, the largest in the caverns, and decorated in a regal simplicity - very much in Findaráto's personal style. There was a tapestry on the far wall, depicting a scene in Tirion, and a small painting on the wall closer to his bed of a golden-haired elf-maiden smiling, her eyes twinkling playfully at the artist. It had been one of his own attempts at art, and while it was imperfect, there was something very personal and emotional about it. Various paintings given to him by the children of Nargothrond were lovingly framed and decorated his walls. A tall bookcase stood in one corner, intricately carved in cherry, and filled with books and scrolls. Books and scrolls also covered the desk, and the nightstand, and were stacked on top of the wardrobe. Some even were stacked neatly in the corner when there had been no other furniture upon which to place them.

Two silver candlesticks stood on his desk, and he lit them from the candle in the wall sconce. They lit the dark room to a comfortable glow, and Findaráto sat in the large padded chair at his desk, steepling his hands in front of him and staring into the candlelight, his eyes far distant.

[Aikanáro]

Once Findaráto had left him, Aikanáro took his time about bathing and dressing. It was at times like this, after two days spent on the road, that he appreciated the luxury of it. Cleanliness could be in itself comforting to him, in such circumstances.

As he did so, his thoughts turned to Findaráto's words, that he had seen a certain glow in his cheeks. Was it that obvious, he wondered, despite his misgivings and clouded thoughts? It must be, if Findaráto had seen it. Not much escaped his notice.

Once washed, he dressed simply in a long white tunic, trimmed with blue, and blue leggings. He combed out out his golden-blonde hair, but left it loose, flowing down to his shoulders. Once he was satisfied that he looked a little more as befitted a lord of the Noldor, he left for Findaráto's chambers.

'I feel much better for that,' he told him once admitted, and it was true, he seemed more himself again, and of the haste which had driven him so quickly to Nargothrond there was little trace. Aikanáro was relaxed now, in the company of his brother, and as he looked about the room he realized that Findaráto's assumption had in fact proved correct, he was also more than a little hungry, too.

'Tell me, brother,' he commented lightly, not wanting to turn too quickly to serious matters, and gestured towards the bookcase, 'how many of those have you read?' He smiled, knowing the answer was likely most, if not all, but unable to resist teasing his brother about his scholarly habits.

[Curufin]

Aikanáro's words broke through Findaráto's reverie and he looked up at his brother.

'All of them,' he said simply, 'except the one by itself on my nightstand.' He paused before continuing. 'And yet I feel that the more I read, the less I know. There is so much knowledge in Arda, and our capacity for learning is by necessity finite. It seems that every time I seek the answer I am simply rewarded with more questions.'

With that, Findaráto stood, surveying his brother with approval.

'Ah, that is better. I have sent for a tray of food, that should arrive anon.'

He crossed to the table and poured two glasses of wine, offering one to his brother.

'Let us hold matters of importance until after you have dined. I do not forget your temper as a child when your belly was empty.'

He grinned and sipped his glass of wine.

'For now, tell me tidings of Angaráto. He is well? And have you heard lately from our sister?'

[Aikanáro]

'My temper?' Aikanáro questioned, mildly amused, as he took the glass of wine from his brother. 'I think you will find that memory fails there, that it is Angaráto you mistake me with, but,' he sipped the wine, smiled, 'he is not here, of course, to confirm my suspicion. All the same, I shall be glad when the food arrives, it has been a long day.'

He paused, glanced about the room again before leaning against the edge of Findaráto's desk, casually, and turning his attention to these last questions.

'As for Angaráto himself,' he said, 'he is well enough, though I have seen him better, and he sends you his regards, with the hope that perhaps it will be he who next visits you. You need not worry overmuch for him,' he put in quickly, 'for I would know, were anything amiss.' This was true enough, as from childhood Angaráto and Aikanáro had been close, and from each other they held few secrets.

'Our sister, though,' he continued. 'I have had no word from her of late.' This was a little more troubling, far from them as she was, and he looked to Findaráto a little uncertain. 'When last did you speak with her?'

[Curufin]

'I received a letter from her a month ago. I have not heard from her since, although I replied at once.'

Findaráto sipped his wine thoughtfully. His sister was dear to him; they had always had a close bond, and he could not help but feel a bit of concern that she had not been in touch in so long a time.

At that moment, the door opened and a servant girl entered, blushing slightly at Findaráto (who did not seem to notice in the slightest), and leaving Aikanáro's tray on the desk.

She curtsied. 'Will there be anything else, my lord Felagund?'

'No,' Findaráto answered gently with a dismissive gesture. 'That will be all, thank you, Lothronriel.' He smiled at her gently before turning back to his brother, missing her near swoon as she left the room quickly.

[Aikanáro]

Once the girl had left the room, Aikanáro sighed dramatically, turned to Findaráto. 'Brother,' he said, 'there is something unfair in it, that even now you seem to have such effect on every maiden you meet!'

He suspected, though, that the ignorance Findaráto seemed to adopt when it came to noticing such reactions was not entirely feigned. This too puzzled him, given how perceptive he could be when it came to other matters. Although this particular maiden had said a peculiar thing...

Aikanáro frowned slightly. 'Findaráto?' he questioned. 'What was that name she called you by?' And why, the question that lay unasked. It was not Finrod, the name he had taken in the Sindarin, but another entirely, if he had not misheard, and he was at once confused and intrigued by it.

[Curufin]

Findaráto clasped his hands behind his back and looked at his brother with an innocent expression.

'Of which effect do you speak, Aikanáro?'

At his second question, he smiled slightly.

'Ah, yes, you had not yet heard my epessë until now, had you? It is Felagund, the Sindarin form of Khuzdûl Felakundu. I am quite fond of it, actually.'

[Aikanáro]

'Khuzdûl!?' Aikanáro blinked. 'They gave you an epessë in Khuzdûl?' He shook his head. It seemed that his brother's uncanny ability to relate well to almost everyone extended even to the dwarves. He could see why Findaráto was fond of it, he must be the first and only of the Eldar to be given such a name.

'Felagund sounds well enough, I suppose,' he said more quietly, 'though I doubt you shall ever be other than Findaráto to me. And as to the other,' he continued with a knowing smile, 'I think you know well enough the way she was looking at you. I thought she was about to trip over her own feet, you had captured her attention so!'

[Curufin]

'Don't be absurd,' Findaráto said with the slightest edge of impatience to his voice. 'I am a married man. Even the sundering seas cannot change that, nor would I even if I could. You know quite well that my heart - and fëa - are forever in her keeping. Nor do I try to hide this fact - every maiden here is certainly aware of it. You have always teased me so, Aikanáro!'

The stern tone faded from his voice and his eyes softened. It was generally the only way Aikanáro - or anyone - could get a rise out of him at all; to somehow mention (or even inadvertently mention, as Aikanáro had) Amárië.

[Aikanáro]

For a long moment Aikanáro remained silent, this sudden change in his brother's composure unsettling him. He did not believe he had said anything overly out of place, certainly nothing he had not commented on before. But perhaps Findaráto was simply not in a mood to bear such teasing, and he had touched upon a raw nerve.

'I know it,' he said slowly. 'Never would I think to doubt it, and if I offended...' he trailed off, entreating his brother to reason.

He looked away then, but felt compelled to speak further. 'It was not your heart I spoke of, Findaráto, and you know that. Is it to be so, that I cannot speak with you as I used to, that your pain is too near? That you and Amárië are parted, it should not mean this. I would have you content at heart again.'

He stopped, realizing there was little else he could say, that if Findaráto would be reminded of Amárië in everything, he could not change it, and so, not knowing what else to tell him, he instead went over to the tray of food the servant girl had left him, uncovered it, and did his best to pretend it required his undivided attention.

[Curufin]

Findaráto felt the guilt as if it were a physical presence. He hurried to his brother, standing behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

'Forgive me, my brother, I did not mean to react so. Amárië is always in my thoughts, but I must learn to think of her with happiness rather than pain. It is a weakness of mine, I suppose, that I miss her so and have let my love become a regret rather than a joy. I shall overcome these negative feelings. Especially when I have not lost her completely.'

He smiled warmly, and a bit apologetically, holding out his hands to his brother entreatingly.

'Of course, we may speak as we always have. Am I not still your brother? Come, I know that you came here because you were troubled. You wish my counsel on some matter? I shall sit and listen.'

[Aikanáro]

Hesitantly, Aikanáro turned back to Findaráto, and smiled at him, forgiving, if indeed there were anything to forgive. But in his eyes now there was a certain sorrow, and he shook his head. 'It is nothing,' he said, 'nothing but the same troubles which concern us all.'

It was not the whole truth, but the matters on which Aikanáro had wished counsel he simply could not mention now, not after his ill-timed remarks that had already put Findaráto too much in mind of matters of love and loss. He would not hurt his brother further.

'I would rather we talked of better things,' he added quietly, 'and of more hopeful things, if we might.'

[Curufin]

'But if you have estel, then everything is hopeful, is it not? Come, brother. Something troubles you, and I shall not have it between us.'

He looked at his brother, raising an eyebrow.

'You know what father said of me - that only our Uncle Fëanáro was more persistent.'

His eyes twinkled with amusement, as he led his brother to a soft velvet-covered couch, sitting with his hands steepled in a chair in front of it.

'Speak, brother.'

[Aikanáro]

Allowing Findaráto to lead him over to the couch, Aikanáro wondered what exactly he was going to say to avoid the subject of his own worries. Their father had been quite right about his persistence, and Aikanáro never had been able to withhold much from his brother for long. But this - this, for Findaráto's own peace of mind, he could not mention.

What would he say to him, in any case? I love her? And remind him yet again of Amárië and his own sorrow? And even that would not be telling all.

No, Aikanáro decided, better to say nothing, it had been a hasty decision of his to come here, a wrong one, he reckoned now. He sat down on the edge of the couch, leant back slightly, and spoke - but not the words his brother wanted to hear.

'What troubles me must be in your mind also, and more besides. I will tell you of it, if you insist, but another time. For the moment, I would rest a while, the day has been long and I am weary.'