Friday, August 30, 2013

Precious

Canon compliant AU.  Of the birth of Findis.  Quenya name used for Fëanor (his father-name Curufinwë, not to be confused with his son Curufin).  This is connected very closely to "Hold" and "Dim" amongst other pieces.  And yes, Findis is a canon character, not an OFC.  She is never mentioned in the Silmarillion and never leaves Aman, so nothing is really known about her.  And yes, she also was born before Fingolfin, who is actually Finwë's third child, not second.  Takes place (probably) in Tirion during the Years of the Trees.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion or any other works of Tolkien

Pairings: Finwë x Indis

Characters: Finwë, Indis, Findis, Fëanor (mentions the Valar, Eru and Míriel)

Warning: canon compliant AU, canon character death mentioned, past depression, family feuds, mostly fluffy cuteness

Song: Khushnuma (Don't You Worry Child)

Words: 1,128
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precious (adjective): of great value or high price; highly esteemed or cherished
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/precious

It was a day Finwë had, for the longest time, never believed he would experience.  A little dream that he had, long ago, believed shattered beyond repair.  One he had thought he had given up on the somber gray evening of his first wife's willing death and never dared again to touch, to hope...

But he found himself standing outside the heavy doors, his oldest son at his side after fourteen grueling hours of pacing up and down the hallway and waiting with his heart caught like a knot in his throat.  The moment was finally here.  A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing supportively, and for once no sarcastic look twisted Curufinwë's handsome face as he grinned excitedly.

And the king could not help but take a deep, wracking breath as he reached for the handle to the door, fingers atremble.  As he pushed it wide open and peered inside, lungs frozen in time.

The image before him left him breathless.  Utterly and completely.

The open room, airy and soft, was filled with lazy golden rays peeking through the lace curtains and spreading across the bed wherein lay his wife curled halfway beneath the blankets.  Indis was leaning back on a mountain of pillows, loose golden hair spread out around her, rolling sweetly over her shoulders, washing over the sheets in thick, languid rivers.

In her arms lay a tiny white-wrapped bundle, squirming and cooing softly.

Silently, he watched as she cradled the baby, rocking and crooning, her tired features glowing with such tender joy that Finwë felt her capturing his heart and holding it hostage all over again.  He had thought he could not love her any more than already he had, but at that moment...

She looked up, and he was drawn forth like as a fish hooked on a reel, pulled dazedly into this paradise until he perched helplessly upon the bed at the side of this angel.

"How are... are you feeling?" His voice trembled.

Because the last time he had asked that question--asked Míriel as she held their child for the very first time and looked dispassionately down at the curious silver eyes and toothless smile--he had received only dead silence as an answer.   And a tiny, exhausted frown.

It was the thing of nightmares, the image of Indis looking up with distant, dull eyes and frowning in fatigue and discontent.  The image of her holding out their newborn child and turning away.

But when she looked upwards, a blinding smile spread across her flushed and sweat-dappled face.  Despite how exhausted she must have been, despite the damp curls of gold sticking to her cheeks and neck and the bags forming under her shimmering, teary eyes, Finwë knew she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.

"Wonderful." Her hand reached out, grasping his own firmly and squeezing, and she stretched upward to press a soft kiss against his parted lips. "We have a daughter, husband."

A daughter... Ai Eru!  He had a daughter...

Indis held their child, raised the tiny form and pulled back the soft, bunched blanket to reveal the blotchy little face.  Already decorated with pale eyelashes and huge blue eyes that blinked up at him from the chubby-cheeked, flushed visage.  By the Valar, he hoped they stuck and did not fade to gray, for they brought to mind the woman at his side, and he could not think of a better color.

"So I have a sister?" On the other side of the bed appeared his eldest son.  Finwë, startled, stared at the dark-haired young prince, the very image of his late wife with the same scorching, fiery eyes and the same zest for life.  He had expected the boy--who made his dislike for Indis plain even to the dullest of dullards--to stand in the corner of the room and leave his father and stepmother to coo and fawn over his step-sister in quiet, brooding silently beneath a façade of feigned pleasure.

But there he was, sitting himself down on the mattress and taking a good long look at the tiny little girl.  Not glaring at Indis with murderous intent.  Not muttering words of scorn at her usurpation of Finwë's affections.  Just looking curiously at the wriggling child, a small hint of something that might have been affection and intrigue upon his sharply angled features.

It was by the skin of his teeth that Finwë managed to keep from crying at the sight.

Of his wife and their newborn daughter safe and sound, happy and bright with life and anticipation of a brighter future.  Of his eldest son outstretching a finger, allowing the graceful digit to be captured and gnawed, laughing softly despite the baby drool.  Of his broken family coming together, jagged and misfit pieces all somehow collaged into a precious picture of companionship and harmony.

Their family was far from perfect.  He didn't think his son and wife would ever see eye-to-eye with one another or hold any sort of affection for one another.  Didn't think that the birth of a child, a new baby in the household bringing back to life wistful memories of childish laughter ringing down the vacant hallways, would change family dynamics drastically.  Didn't even think that it would bring them all closer at the end of the day, for he knew the stubbornness of his son and the unyielding nature of his wife.

But for the moment, singular and soft and timeless, they were all together somehow.  And happy.

It was much more than had ever hoped for after bidding farewell to Míriel and watching her breath leave her body for the final time.  It was the answer to an ancient prayer spoken in the days of youth and naivety, before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

No matter how the future unfurled, no matter how torn and ragged his family became or how much bitterness, hatred and prejudice lay as the bricks of an impossibly high wall keeping them all apart, Finwë knew this moment was enough of a blessing.  Throat tight and eyes blurring slightly at the edges, he nestled himself beside his wife, putting an arm around her shoulders and pressing her against his shoulder as she began to drift to sleep.

Together they watched Curufinwë playing with his baby sister in the soft afternoon light.  Finwë did not think he had ever felt more complete.  So wrapped up in softness and contentedness and bliss.

It would not last.  But still, he cherished the picture, for all its fleeting fragility.  Hardly dared he to blink, for he did not wish to miss even a second.

He wanted to remember this forever.
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Perhaps corny, but I had to do it after I dropped the word "precious" in "Hold" the other day.  It just stuck permanently after that.  And, honestly, I really needed the cuteness and tenderness today.  It has been a very, very long day for me and I couldn't write angst today.  I'm already on the verge of tears and I don't think I could write something actually sad.

Anyway, maybe Fëanor might be a bit OOC, I guess, but I think he could get over himself (with the help of his massive daddy complex) for one day and be f-ing happy for Finwë, who's been through a lot of shit and really deserves this moment.  Who knows, maybe Fëanor and Findis will actually be close brother-and-sister-wise?  In any case, I can't imagine him seeing Findis as the "threat" that he will see Fingolfin as (somewhat justifiably) in the future, and so I feel he could relax a bit and take the initiative to at least appreciate a sibling a little bit.

The song today is related to the story.  I'm linking up the actual PianoGuys website because it has a translation of the Hindi underneath and I think it fits Finwë and his family absolutely perfectly.  And Khushnuma (performed by ThePianoGuys and Shweta Subram) is a gorgeous cover of Don't You Worry Child (by Swedish House Mafia).  It's got this message to it, you know.  And I love the cultural mixture (and the suits that Shweta wears are lovely also) that gives this song a refreshing flavor.  It reminded me of sunlight and Indis' hair.  So sweet.

That is all I have for today.  I shall do my best to be on time with tomorrow and Sunday's updates, but I'm moving back to my dorms on Sunday, so I may post late.  But I will post.  After all, I've hit 200 stories.  No use in backing down now :D.

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