governor of Rarepair Island™️

“You have never known love!” Egg screams at him. All the screaming prompts Angrod to rush into the room with Edhellos, and in a panic, he looks from Finrod to Egg and back, unsure which brother to pacify first. But in the end he decides to run to Finrod and Edhellos runs to Egg, and they struggle to keep the two apart. “You who have only ever existed for yourself! What do you know of love when even now you pull Curufinwë into sin, when you spit at Amarië with every living second–!”

“I will not give you permission to wed!” Finrod roars back, rage in his eyes and demeanor. “I will never allow your betrothal and your wedding, for as long as you and I both live! Never! You hear me?! Never!”

“Get out of my land–!” Egg screams. “Get out of Dorthonion–!”

“Ha! You send me out? I am your King, your liege-lord! You hold Dorthonion only because I will it! I am the Head of your House, and no marriage will take place between you and this adaneth, ever! I swear it!”

Angrod manages to bodily pull him from the room in a feat of strength. Though his words are true – that his brothers are his vassals, it is Finrod who leaves Dorthonion that same day, opting to return to Nargothrond. He does not even remember making the journey. He is fueled by anger and fear, such terrible fear. 

If Egg forsakes the immortality of the Eldar in such a mindless, thoughtless decision, and he too suffers the same fate Balan did – growing old, sick, and weak, eventually forgetting anything, blind – Finrod knows he will most certainly die from grief very close afterward. He will not live through such a loss. Not Egg’s loss. Not the brother whom he raised as a son.

It was unfair of Egg to ask him this.

To accede to his wish to die?

And for what? For an adaneth he met in only one day, spent time with less than a month, whom he says he thinks he loves?

Egg hurt Finrod today more than all the sorrows the world has thrown against him so far ever did.

[withered / AO3]

@skaelds

“Oh. I see.” He got the impression from Egg that the lady liked Alqualondë more than Tirion. “Aikanár, I am sure you know, is an accomplished sailor and mariner. The Sea has always been his greatest love. You two will never run out of adventures.”

Nercamë delicately wrinkles her nose. “I find that I cannot tolerate being on a ship too long.”

“Despite being half-Teler?”

“Despite being half-Teler,” she affirms with a faint smile.

That was not what Egg told him. Findekáno turns to Nercamë, who is now eyeing him strangely. The lady subtly takes a step closer, and rests her right hand by his right forearm. Her smile grows. Interest in her eyes.

Findekáno then feels sick in the pit of his stomach. The feeling grows worse when Egg rejoins them, such joy and hope on his best friend’s ageless face. Ai, Aikanár… Finno thinks as he accepts the caramel apple given to him. 

He tries to…make himself insignificant. As the three of them continue to walk around Mindon and conversation flows between them, Findekáno does his utmost to highlight Egg’s accomplishments, his talents. His cousin’s merits, not just as a sailor, but as a person. That Aikanár is kind, and dependable, ever a cheerful presence to those around him, and capable of protecting and cherishing those whom he loves. As much as possible Findekáno does not even talk about himself; his status as prince, his precedence in the line of the Noldorin succession, or even being the heir to Nolofinwë’s house. He does not talk about his sixteen Loremastery titles; his work at King Finwë’s council, the number of the vassals pledged under his banner. He does his utmost to make it all about Aikanár. 

But Nercamë is clearly not interested in Egg; she is interested in him . Her lingering gaze, her smiles, the small, seemingly insignificant touches on his arm. It is only courtesy and respect for Nercamë as a person that prevents Findekáno from turning this meet-up into something unpleasant. That and his regard for his cousin and best friend. 

So Findekáno endures, and says nothing.

[Chapter 11, Hanno @ AO3]

nice things to say to people

context: [a wedding]

"You know I'm in love with you. It's not just convenient. I love you."

Fingon looks up from where he had been studying his fingers. After everything has been said and done, and the initial shock had ebbed following the lucidity afforded by the sobering tea, here they sit, in his chambers, by the balcony. This particular balcony faced away from the grand courtyard and instead looked out at the vegetable garden he had tended himself for years now, during his quiet idyllic days of freedom. A few white goats roamed around nearby, nibbling on grass.

He looks up at Aegnor. Aegnor, standing before him, panic in his eyes and mingled with worry and concern. Through their freshly-minted bond, he feels those emotions, and perhaps they help echo his own, though his own set of emotions are well-controlled in comparison. But they share common ones: panic, concern -- perhaps a tinge of fear.

For his part, Fingon-- how is he supposed to explain this? That right after the feast honoring Hador Lórindol, he gets into this kind of unprecedented trouble? There was not even a feast for betrothal first. No formal proposal. No ceremony expected of him as the High Prince of the Noldor. Worse, this was a match that the Valar themselves forbade in Aman, even though they are in Beleriand and the cultures of the Sindar and Avari proved otherwise.

How is he supposed to even begin to explain to his father the High King what exactly happened, between him and Aegnor?

"Did you wed me because you were threatened by Hador?" Fingon asks, his voice soft, but he could have brandished a sword at Aegnor, for the way the bigger, taller elf flinches and a frisson of hurt shoots through their bond.

"Finno, that's not--" Egg cries out, sinking into his knees and grasping his hands. "This-- I love you, Finno. I always have! I realized this not long ago-- I admit-- I'm not the best with feelings, or how to truly, properly articulate them-- and I don't deny that I've been flip-flopping around like grounded fish, so many years, even in Valinor--!"

"Yes," Fingon says, not pulling his hands away. "Even in Valinor. You ran to me after every heart break, every failure. Was your heart break with Andreth so great, you had to do this to me? Was your fear of Hador Lórindol so insurmountable? You imagine a mere adan could threaten you?"

Hurt flares across the bond. Aegnor's tears spill over from his eyes and he pulls back, dropping his hands. Fingon clenches them into twin fists, though his gaze never left Aegnor's face.

"There are consequences, Aegnor," he continues. "We are princes of the Noldor. There were a great many expectations for us, regarding these things, and we have flouted them all. You can't run from these consequences now. We face them, or..."

Or what?

"What makes you think I wouldn't?" Aegnor says, and through their bond Fingon feels the beginnings of the other's anger.

"How you treated me over the years of our friendship speaks otherwise," says Fingon. "You will excuse my small doubts. You have no choice but to do so."

The door opens. Fingon's chamberlain, Vorosanya, lets himself in. The ellon bows to them, concern in his gray eyes.

"The High King is looking for you both. I cannot delay, my lords," says Vorosanya.

Fingon stands. "Then we will go meet my father for the breaking of the fast. I'm sure he will excuse me and my....spouse...for the tardiness."

He exits the room first. Aegnor follows, silent, and Vorosanya trails after them both.

nice things to say to people

Sometimes Aikanaro still wonders how it is that he has Findekano sitting with him. Like today. It is a fine day in Vinyamar: since Turgon and his people's disappearance, the rule of Nevrast and its capital Vinyamar had fallen back to Findekano, and they were obliged to visit the seaside territory now and then. There is talk, Egg knows, that the High King is thinking of giving him Nevrast, since the territory is too rich to be abandoned, and Cirdan their neighbor too busy with the Falas already an extensive territory in itself.

But eh. Ruling? Egg can do it, if he is put up to it, but he would really rather not. Ruling entailed many responsibilities he rather avoid, if he could. Yet on the other hand, it means Fingolfin is acknowledging him and Findekano, and for that, Egg was willing to put on the responsible one's boots and rule.

The seaside castle of Vinyamar stands over a cliff overlooking the sea, and it was said if one squinted hard enough of a very clear day, they would be able to see the lighthouse at Tol Eressea. Egg has never tried.

Finno's household staff is moving about briskly, all business, which leaves Egg and Finno by the balcony, enjoying the sea breeze. Vorosanya the High Prince's chamberlain will take care of everything for them. Egg is already contemplating the blue waters of the ocean. Maybe they could swim...

They do this. They go out, follow an old path to the coast, and in the privacy of that hidden little beach they swim around in the warm waters, chasing each other, splashing each other. More and more the idea of having Vinyamar and Nevrast as his seat appeals to Egg.

It is early afternoon when they sit by the sand, sheltered by the shade of many coconut trees there. Egg sleepily leans into Findekano's side, his cheek on his spouse's dark hair.

"Do you think I can rule Nevrast properly?" Egg asks sleepily.

Somewhere he feels Finno kiss his cheek. “A lot of people’s lives are better because you’re in them. I do not see why you cannot do a good job as Nevrast's new lord. Dorthonion was a job well done, my love."

Egg pinks. Uh. Uhhhh. Now he's shy, dammit. His end of their bond bubbles with it. He tucks his face into Finno's dark hair.

"Alright. If you say so. I'll do my best, Finno-Finno." "Mmhm. I know you will."

@skaelds

Hador. Hador.

Golden Hador with blonde hair akin to honey and cornflower blue eyes – and Egg’s thoughts take a further downward spiral as his gaze shifts from the adan to Finno, his Finno , who is now laughing at a joke from the man. Fingolfin beside them is smiling as well, and Egg thinks – rather spitefully – that the decision of the king to grant Dor-lómin to Hador was ill-taken. Dor-lómin, for the longest time, was Finno’s land, Finno’s fiefdom, Finno’s territory – and the manor there held special memories for Egg, for it was there his love unfurled and was finally understood by him, after centuries of blundering mindlessly after others. 

It was in Dor-lómin Egg had fled when Finrod refused to grant him permission to marry Andreth; it was there Egg took his wounded self, to Fingon, who always gave him succor when the world took a turn that did not favor him, and it was there Egg always fled whenever he and Finrod quarreled – and that had been their most terrible quarrel yet. 

It was in Dor-lómin that Fingon had patiently helped him, as he always did, to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart. In Dor-lómin that Egg slowly, slowly recovered, and came to understand why Finrod was vehement in his refusal: because Egg would be lost to all of them his kin who loved him, and asking Finrod to grant permission for him to marry, to shed his immortality, was a terrible decision to pose to his beloved older brother. 

[Where Aegnor creates a diplomatic headache and flouts many societal rules of the Eldar, all in one night.]