Danafinwe Feaelenion Feanorian (Book 1)

Friends and Stories

"Welcome to my cottage," I tell Nanwe as I hold the door open. He's the last to arrive. Thankfully my friends promise to behave.

Only Manwe knows if they will keep to it.

Nanwe gapes. "It's beautiful,"

He walks around the bottom floor. Exploring the small details. When he reaches the fireplace he looks at each stone. A smile graces his lips when he spots my name engraved on the highest stone I could reach. Father and Curvo's names are engraved on two stones below mine. Nanwe also finds the set of books on the mantle. The last three copies of Layers of Life.

My worst book. I've yet to burn them. I don't know why. It's my weakest novel and it shows how little I knew at the ripe age of 19. My recent novel is so much better.

A true masterpiece. Like my cottage.

"Thank you, I designed it myself," With the help of father and Curvo of course.

"Really?"

"Mhmm,"

"Add that to your list of talents,"

"That is a long list," Aerus hollers. He is. It wrong. Writing, not sleeping every night and learning new crafts are high on that list. Not to mention my affinity for storytelling.

"That is not wrong," Nelyo states.

Eldaren asks where the wine is. A bunch holler back that it's in the bathroom. Nanwe looks puzzled. His forehead crinkles and his eyes squint as if trying to figure out why.

"What?"

"When I have company, particularly needy guests," I toss a gaze at Eldaren. My youngest friend sheepishly smiles. "I take out one or two bottles and keep the good stuff hidden,"

Perhaps I'll change the hiding place. Maybe.

"Nanwe why don't you sit next to my sister," Mori you absolute shit. Never in a million years did I ever think he would prompt a male to sit next to me. Never.

I hide my face in my hands. Holy Valar I feel like Mori.

Chuckles come from my friends. I'm surprised they didn't this of that. What happened to behaving?

My other siblings will at some point question Nanwe until he cries. Such is a part of having seven brothers. It's natural. Or so mother says.

Yet I never thought this would happen. Never. Well not never but not now. Maybe in fifty or so years. But not now.

When I look up Nanwe is just as red as I am.
_____

A story?.... oh I have one.

"Well let me tell you I have the best and worst story you best, believe me, it's the best and worst," This piques my brothers, cousins and friends' attention.

Ambarussa immediately ask who it's about.

"Tyelkormo, Me, Mother and Father,"

Turca stills. He knows I never use his mother name unless annoyed or angry or something in between. This is a story that almost required me to use Tyelkormo. But for the sake of the story and I will not.

Turca cringes. Maybe I should use Tyelkormo.

"Sounds like a delight," Finno smiles digging into his wine.

"It was the year 1274 and..."

"DANA, DANA, DANA, DANA," I open an eye a crack. Lo and behold Turcafinwe Tyelkormo Feanorian is standing over me. Why is my seven-year-old brother standing over my sleeping body?