[Introduction] And cursed be thy name ! (From ashes to flesh)

[i_hate_valar]

He went down cursing the Dark Lord - the Enemy, and reminding his sons of their Sacred Duty, now sacred twice over.  He went, then, out to a place unnamed, and his spirit for a time remained in an unexplored and untold limbo.

When Feanaro Finwion finds himself suddenly in a forest, he is quite lost, though loath to admit it, even to himself.

Comments

[valiantfinwe]

Well then.

Fingon plants his feet and turns to face his uncle head on, because he is not about to turn his back on this one. While his father may be forgiving and attempted to mend things, Fingon is not quite so understanding. Not quite. And he wishes, again, that his hair were long enough to braid.

His expression stony, Fingon brings his head up almost defiantly, simply watching Feanor's approach without comment. At least for now. We're sure his silence won't last long.

He's likely grown since his uncle saw him last, and certainly matured. Of course, some would argue, only a little.

[i_hate_valar]

Uncle Fëanáro doesn't care about your braid, little boy. It would mean nothing to him - nothing at all, really. As he nears the place where Fingon is lurking, he pauses, examining his welcome committee.

He could almost mistake him for his brother -- but not quite. After a pause, he wanders over, casually enough.

"Is that the way to greet the High King, my nephew?"

Typist finds the use of this particular icon quite ironic. >.>

[valiantfinwe]

Yes, but Fingon cares. His chin very nearly goes up further at that comment, back straightening, proud as ever. Not quite arrogant. But it may well be a near thing. "From present High King to past, yes, my uncle."

[i_hate_valar]

Feanor is too elegant to snort - but he would otherwise. He does sneer, though. "Certainly, my brother's brood would not sit on the throne. I made sure to have enough descendants for that."

[valiantfinwe]

Fingon's chin does lift higher, then, pride rapidly approaching critical levels. If another one here is good at it, it might be this one. However; "Maitimo had more sense than that. After you perished, it was only because I remembered him that he survived at all. For that, and to mend the breach you left behind, your house became dispossessed of that title." Coldly, yes. "By your eldest's own decree. No son of yours will ever hold that title, and neither, any longer, do you."

[i_hate_valar]

.... typist willing, Fingon is going to get the Bitchslap of his Life. Now. And Feanor aims it harshly. "You speak venom, boy. Have respect for your elders," he'll hiss in his face. "You had best come to your senses and ignore your delusions immediately, boy. You were never smart enough to be king."

[valiantfinwe]

That stings. His head whips sideways, sharply, and he takes a moment to breathe before turning back, staring Feanor defiantly in the eyes. "I speak truth, uncle. I am no boy, and certainly not one of yours. What have you ever led us to but disaster? What has your reign ever brought but death? No. I deny your right. My sister will follow me, as will Artanis."

Passionately, oh yes. Oh hell yes.

[i_hate_valar]

At this, Feanor laughs - heartily, loudly, and very amusedly. "Is that the way you have been groomed, child? Supported by women, you seek to conquer what can never be yours? Certainly your powerful supporting mass will be terribly impressive in the face of true power." He shrugs and just gives Fingon another contemptible look. "Delusions of greatness - how surprising of you."

[valiantfinwe]

His face colors, and he looks, for a moment, furiously angry - his right hand balls into a fist. He forces it loose. "You have no power here," he says, flatly, "And the moment you try to seize it it will be taken from you. And I will not have to lift a finger to cause it." His jaw tightens, angrily. "Times have changed, uncle. This place is not yours, nor has any realm ever been."

[i_hate_valar]

"This place and the rest of it is a Vala's playground, boy. Learn it, deal with it. I'm not hear for my own enjoyment - there are better things to do than squabble over this. You were a general, even when you were still a tenderfoot. All you need is to join me, nephew. There is no need for quarrels."

[valiantfinwe]

"What better things to do, uncle? And how can I simply join you, as you say, without sacrificing the honor of my father, my family, and my own beliefs? Answer me that, then, or why I should; answer me why we all died for your curse. All you have ever brought is strife - how dare you propose to end it when that even Maitimo could not manage?"

[i_hate_valar]

The end of Fingon's diatribe is lost - Feanor ignores it, for now. "Would have done nothing, rather, boy? You came with us, as I recall, and fought fearlessly then. Have you forgotten your own thirst for vengeance, when Finwe himself was killed by the Enemy? Have you forgotten this outrage which you suffered as I did?"

[valiantfinwe]

"I have forgotten nothing," Fingon says, angrily. "I have forgotten nothing of how me and mine came to aid you at Alqualonde, and were condemned all the more for it. I have forgotten nothing of watching the fires across the water light the night sky. I have forgotten nothing of the crossing of the Helcaraxe, where my youngest brother perished. I have forgotten nothing of how swift you were to forget us."

[i_hate_valar]

A tough, but necessary decision, Feanor would argue. You were slowing us down.

"Left behind, but never forgotten," Feanor replies. "You may blame your father for slowing down the host with his hesitancy."

[valiantfinwe]

He almost shakes for the accusation at his father. Because NOT DADDY, YOU BITCH except not really. "Is it so wrong to desire a little time to think? Did you not consider what you condemned us to, in so doing? Did you truly think that all would simply turn back and forget family, friends, and kin? That is not our way; that is yours, and how many died for your forgetting that?"

Yeah, this has been boiling up for a while.

[i_hate_valar]

"We knew what we set out to do, and our mission never lacked in clarity," Feanor replies, not without fire. "To do otherwise is weakness."