A Different Kind of Hell [ Silmarillion ] 3

Chapter 21: Vigil

LAKE MITHRIM - THE YOUNGER HOUSES

Eve couldn’t guess how many days had passed since Nelyo’s return, but the candles casting shadows on the tent walls already burned low. She blocked out everything except the heartbeat of her husband and the steadying breaths of her eldest brother. Finno lay across her, collapsing into slumber some hours after his return. She had taken up vigil on the floor beside Nelyo’s bed, and there he’d joined her, insisting he would keep watch with her.

She smiled down at his still face. That had lasted about ten minutes. He’d been unconscious ever since. Eve didn’t begrudge him the rest; she had no need of it. Or perhaps she did, but she would never indulge. Not until Nelyo woke up.

Sometimes, she thought she heard the sheets rustle behind her head. But each time it was just Hyamindo opening the tent flaps to see that they were fine. The first day, Nelyo had writhed on the bed as she and Irissë tended to him alongside healers. Since his fever had broken, she had heard nothing. Just breathing. 

At least he was breathing.

Eve ran her fingers through Finno’s hair. Dirt and blood had caked his face when he had returned home. Careful of the few cuts on his body, she had cleaned him up. The golden thread from his braids sat neatly on the side table. It wasn't often she saw her husband shirtless. Those days, all wore armor.

When she closed her eyes, sometimes Eve could see her husband’s face illuminated in the silver light of Telperion in the rain. The Tree light turned water droplets into crystal prisms. Finno had never looked more beautiful than when he glistened beneath a storm.

She slipped her hand into his. The tears that fell onto his husband’s chest as she pulled him closer, leaning over him in her lap, were a poor substitute for the liquid silver of rain in Valinor. But it was something. She couldn't stop the tears any more than she could've stopped Manwë from drenching Tirion. 

“Why are you crying?”

Eve opened her eyes at her husband’s breathless words. He blinked against the soft candle light. Smothering her cries, Eve covered her mouth with her free hand and grasped onto his tighter with her other. Finally. Finally, he had woken.

“Finno.” She could barely control the volume of her voice when she found her words. He was here. He was back. He was with her. “Finno—”

Pushing himself up, Finno pulled her into a hug. He barely had the strength to embrace her but she could do the work for him. Eve kissed his neck, his cheeks, his collarbone. He barely moved. But he relaxed.

“You're here. You're safe,” she said. “Finno.”

He held onto her, accepting all the tears on his bare skin. “I never want to leave again.”

How long they stayed there embracing on the floor beside Nelyo’s bed, Eve didn't know. She didn't care. He had come home. He had found her brother. They were all safe. 

“How is he?”

Eve released her grip on her husband, leaning back. Where had the smirks and laughter gone? Morgoth had stolen so much from them in paradise. She used her thumb to brush the tears from his pale cheeks.

“Alive,” she said. “That is what matters.”

Finno took a ragged breath. She watched as he finally looked beyond her at the body on the bed. Eve didn't need to turn around to picture the scars.

“He's not woken yet.”

It wasn't a question.

“He will, though.”