Danafinwe Feaelenion Feanorian (Book 1)

The Oath

Tirion. We are back in Tirion. By the Valar, it feels like an eternity since we left. Father called for the high court to meet outside the castle. The people deserve to know what's happening. We all do. Grandfather's death will affect them too, not just us.

Many shout absurdities and threats. Our banishment has not been lifted. Not yet. Not by the Valar. That doesn't matter, not anymore. There are more important matters to attend.

Father raises his hands—the gathered crowd silences. Grandfather said since Father's younger years, he has always had a way with words. Today, he shows his ability.

The ability I inherited and perfected. But this is not my speech. Not that I could speak it if I wanted to.

I stand to the side of Father. My brothers stand with me. We're just far enough that people won't look at us directly but not too far that people won't know we're here with Father. That much is clear. 

"People of Tirion. Why should we serve the Valar? They cannot keep us nor their realm safe. Morgoth slayed your king, my father. Vengeance calls me forward. Am I the only one who will avenge King Finwé? It does nothing to stay in the pits of darkness between the mountains and sea."

"Do you wish to mourn the loss of your king for eternity, or shall we return from whence we came? Across the sea to Cuivienen, where the waters run sweet, the sky lays cloudless, the stars roam free, and the land is wide. Let us leave the cowards the city." His voice never wavers.

Father lifts his sword high in the air. I do the same. My brothers follow suit. Together, we know the words that leave Father's mouth.

Deadly.

Brutal.

Harsh.

The Oath of Feanor.

My brother's voices howls on the wind. The oath is heard from Tirion to the halls of Mandos to Formenos. With each word, my heart becomes heavier. This task will be great. Many of us won't return. Many of us will live with the knowledge of what happened.

Even with my wrecked voice, the oath cements itself in my fea. In my bones. I can feel it.

I promise to keep my brothers from falling. Even if it's the last thing I do, I swear that too, if not for myself or Father but for Mother.
_____

"Feanaro!"

Mother? Did they not say goodbye? I thought Father sought her out. He left me in charge for an hour to organize the host while he did so. He even came back disorderly, as if they had one final goodbye.

What happened to that?

Father stops walking. He turns to watch Mother push her way toward us. When people see who is yelling for Father, they part. People know of Father's fire, but rarely did anyone see Mother's.

Dishevelled Mother marches up to Father, Nelyo, and me. Mother glares darkly at Father in the torchlight. She doesn't have to yell to know she means business. Her expression says it all. "You will not take my children to their deaths,"

"No one but Melkor will meet his end," Father grits back. His patience wears thin already.

My eyes find Nelyos. His are wide like mine. I don't think we've ever heard our parents argue, at least not in person. They always left for another room or curbed it for a more private venue. This is different. 

This is raw. Left over from when Mother would not follow Father into exile.

"Melkor is a vala. He will end our children and, with them, your hope of vengeance. After all their deaths, yours will come, and you will beg. I have seen it," Mother growls.

"Keep your visions to yourself. They hold no power. We will prevail," Father says those words as if our victory is already set in stone. Not even he has the power to know that. Only Iluvatar can. And Father is not Iluvatar.

"You don't know that Feanaro,"

"And you don't know we will fail," Father snarls, turning on his heel. He begins walking down the street. And he doesn't look back.

Ambarussa, Turca, Curvo, Kana and Mori frown at Mother as they walk by.

"Let Ambarussa stay. They are but children," Mother screams as her youngest walks by. It's desperate but warranted. They are still children in our eyes.

Nelyo looks to me to answer. I nod—an effective way of telling him to explain. I'm not sure how much of Father's speech she heard.

"They are of the majority Mother. It is their choice to stay or go. I fear if they stay, they will endure eternal torment from the oath,"

"The oath," Mother repeats. Her shoulders sag. So she felt its power. Why wouldn't she want retribution for Grandfather? She and him were close. But she always knew violence was never the answer.

If she had been in Formenos, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps she would have persuaded Father to appeal to the Valar. Ask to be taken to Melkor and help rid him of this plane. Perhaps the oath would not have been necessary.

But what's done is done. It's too late to go back. We can only move forward.

"We didn't know we were swearing it until it was done in rage,"

"Ambarussa will leave with us. There is nought for us here," Nelyo states. He pats her shoulder firmly and with care. Then he follows in Father's footsteps.

Mother turns to me. She begs with her eyes, pleading for me to stay. How can I? I took the oath. Staying would only mean eternal torment over breaking an oath not even two hours old. "Dana,"

'I can't. I love you with all my heart, but I will return,'

Mother stares at me, horrified. She wasn't expecting me to use osanwe. How could she? She doesn't know how I ruined my voice. She wasn't there to witness it. She thought it was Kana. Father named him strong-voiced Finwe.

"It was you who screamed,"

I nod. There is so much I want to say, and so much I need to say to my mother. If I could talk, I would. But my voice needs rest.'I was there when Grandfather met his end. Melkor spared my life,'

I still don't understand why he spared me, but he did. If for some twisted reasoning. Or a ploy long in the making. Or my power over flames or my skills. No one but Morgoth knows. All will be revealed in due time.

Time is all we have. But patience wears thin, especially when you have fire within your veins. Time will be against us. These next months will be the deciding factor.

'I tried to help, but Grandfather gave an order. He likely saved my life with it. I want this,'

Mother grips my gloved hands tightly. She stares intently into my eyes as if trying to impart wisdom or a vision onto me. "Take care of your brothers,"

A shame I was never one for visions. Deja vu, on the other hand. That was common. On occasion, I felt as if a day had been repeated.

'I will. Farewell Mother.'

I smile once more before taking long strides to catch up to Father. He expects me to stay at his side. I have obligations, and I will fulfill them. I have to. I am Danafinwe Feaelenion Feanorian and King Feanaro Finwean's heir.

I will not fail.