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Feanaro stormed off his house, or better said, what used to be his house. It was not that Nerdanel did not want him there; it was quite the opposite. If there was something Feanaro could not stand was betrayal, or at least his definition of betrayal. Nerdanel had known for a very long time of the gross nature of the relationship between his son, Russandol, and his half nephew, Findekano. And not only had she been aware, she fully accepted it! Nerdanel had accused him of being irrational. Him, the prince of the Noldor, irrational! It was an offense. Nelyafinwe no longer lived with him, and in fact, he had lived with his lover/half cousin for over ten years. Had he been blinded with seething rage by Nolofinwe's calmness? Absolutely. Had he yelled, fussed, beaten and pulled the ever long hair of his half brother? Yes. Had he been removed by the room by his own sons and Arafinwe? Truly, and without a just cause. Feanaro was entitled to his fury. Nolofinwe could pretend that he was alright with this outrage all along, but deep inside Feanaro knew his anger ran hot as his. Could he have been more responsible, could his words have been softer? Maybe. But irrational? Nerdanel was surely off her wits. No one in Aman would dare to call Feanaro, the kinslayer of Aqualonde and the burner of the ships, irrational.
As he walked to his own individual chamber in Tirion, Nolofinwe ran into him. Feanaro inhaled strongly, his fist clutched in an attempt not to break his half brother's nose. Again.
"Curufinwe, we have to talk."
Feanaro gave him a stare that would make any other elf tremble. "Can't it wait for another day? And by another day, I mean never."
"I am afraid it cannot. It concerns our sons, my son. Surely you must understand, being the rational elf you are." His voice was cool, as cool as the ice of Helcaraxe, and filled with irony and bitterness.
Feanaro felt like one of his temples might explode in rage. "Make it quick and get thee gone."
Nolofinwe sat next to him, and Feanaro moved farther away from him. "I take it from your prior actions and words that you do not approve of the relationship between our sons."
Feanaro was screaming internally. "No, Nolo, how could I? You know that, like Arafinwe, I fully support my son's amorous life decisions, even if it goes against tradition. I will give them my blessing and go to the wedding with flowers and fruits galore, and without even carrying a sign!"--Nolofinwe stared at his brother in bewilderment. His voice was so unusually mellow that Nolofinwe feared he might burn the entire city in his ironic satire
Feanaro grunted. Was his brother truly so witless? It was an offense to his intelligence, for his brother to have been named the wise. Anyone could see otherwise. Finally, he exploded in his blinding rage. "OF COURSE NOT, NOLOFUCKWIT! HOW COULD I EVER BE APPROVING OF SUCH AN OUTRAGE! Our-my noble father would be writhing in his grave! Why do you think I have not spoken to my son for so long? Did you think that I would understandingly embrace my son for being- for being a disgrace to our noble house? HAVE YOU ANY IDEA OF THE HUMILLIATIONS I HAVE HAD TO STAND? NERDANEL MOCKS ME, YOUR SISTERS MOCK ME, THE ENTIRE CITY OF TIRION MOCKS ME! And all for what? So that our sons can 'live happily ever after? LET ME TELL YOU FROM EXPERIENCE, NOLOFUCKWIT, HAPPY ENDINGS DON'T EXIST IN THIS LIFE! AND IF ANYONE CAN'T, THEN THEY CAN'T HAVE A HAPPY ENDING! This whole things is just so... Fingross."
Nolofinwe had not even blinked twice. He was used to the temper tantrums of Feanor since the day he was born. "Are you finished?"
Feanaro did not answer, and simply walked away. OF COURSE HE WASN'T FINISHED! HE WOULD NEVER BE FINISHED! NERDANEL WOULD HEAR HIM! ERU ILLUVATAR HIMSELF WILL HEAR HIM!
"Feanaro, wait. Do not be too hasty in your wrath. I understand the turmoil you are going through"
Feanaro turned. "Does that mean that you are offering me your help? Or that you are begging your superior brother for his help in ending this whole Fingross thing?"
"I mean neither. What I am offering you is empathy, forgiveness, understanding. If you will take it, of course." He was quick to add.
"I don't need those things."
"Eru, you are so arrogant! You may be my superior as you say, and you may have mastery in skills I do not. But for once in your life, take heed of me! What I mean to say is that I went through the same facet of emotions you are displaying right now. With the exception that I, of course, have a rationale and thus did not express them fully."
If Feanaro heard the words rationale, rationality, rational, irrationality, irrational or anything remotely close to the word, he was going to impeach Nerdanel. "Go on."
"When my sisters warned me of this I did not believe them, thinking that, like everyone else, they are shipper trash. When my brother told me, however, I did not take it very well. I fussed, I cursed, I groaned, I... well, to be sincere, I almost slapped him. I thought it was just a prank of his, but deep inside me I knew the truth. So when my father told me and begged me not to bring it to your attention, I felt like exactly like you; enraged, disgusted and choleric. I am not very proud of this, but I must have yelled to father a couple times."
"My point is, you are not alone in this. But if you want me to aid you in any devilish way to separate the two, then you will be sorely disappointed. Yes, Findekano is my heir and my son, but I will not have him be unhappy."
"That is all? All you wanted to meet me for here was to tell me that you sympathized with my pain a thousand years ago? HAVE YOU ANY IDEA OF WHAT I HAVE BEEN THROUGH IN THE PAST FEW MONTHS? And to ice the accursed cake that has been over iced so much by your 'I-am-the-best-son-ever' speech, you vainly attempt to persuade me that you are an excellent father? That I have raised my sons wrongly? O, thou speakest the truth, dear brother, for foul am I!"
Nolofinwe sighed, his patience waning. "What I mean, Feanaro, is that I too once desired to eliminate this union. But Irime has made me see that Findekano cannot be happy with anyone else, that their souls are meant for each other even if they deny it. And how, dear brother, can I be against such love? I expressed my disgust to Findekano, and he too became of fell mood. He made me see that I was wrong. But this isn't about me or you, or about Findekano and Maitimo. This also has to do with father. This is what he would have wanted, and who am I but a follower of his wishes, even if they pain me so?"
Feanaro stared at him in plain disgust. "I did not know you had it in you, Nolofinwe. Truly, Arafinwe falls short in your vanity and corny remarks! Ha, how easy it is for you to think our father would approve of this! Certainly, my father would justly slap you if he heard your outrageous remarks.
"I speak from my father's words, Feanaro. I am not as pretentious as you think me to be. My father and my mother knew for long of this even before Artanis was in diapers. He said that I must not pressure Findekano into telling the truth, and that I must not speak of this save he mentioned it."
"What you are implying is that father, a cisgender heterosexual male elf that happens to have married two wives who also happen to be cisgender heterosexual, allowed his two grandsons, heirs of the house of Finwe, to be together?"
"I am not implying anything. I am stating that father loved his nephews equally no matter what their amorous status or gender be. And for starters, you got the entire first part wrong."
"How could I be mistaken, Nolofuckwit? No one else knows father better than me, not even his later wife. I was his original heir, his pride and joy. Who else dares to proclaim that they know his thoughts and heart better than I?"
Feanaro could see fury growing in his brother's eyes, and he enjoyed it. "It is I who dares to prove you wrong. My grandfather isn't entirely straight as you claim. Him, my mother and yours were a triad. Which, in case the definition is alien to you, means they were in a polyamorous relationship. How could he deny his grandsons the opportunity to love each other when he himself experienced the same stigma?"
Feanaro felt his heart throbbing. His father, his dear father who he had deemed pure, had been queer the whole time? And he had not told his eldest, his dearest? This could not be. His mouth was going dry. "Thou liest."
"Stop with your pride, Feanaro, and with your 'fancy-ass' Quenya. Valar, we are in the fourth age of the sun, not the years of the lamps! I say no lie, and you may ask any of the Noldor about such matter. Why, I am astounded that you knew nothing of it. One would think that being his heir would earn his confidence. But then again, perhaps he did not deem you as rational as--"
"ENOUGH! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU LOWER ME TO YOUR KIND!"--Feanor roared, but his hot temper ran no more. Instead there was a vacancy in his soul, as if he had been betrayed. Yet he knew in his heart that Nolofinwe spoke the truth, and that his father had wanted it this way.
Had he raised his sons wrongly? Had he been harsh in not listening to Nerdanel, who was warm and kind towards them? Had he raised Nelyafinwe harshly? Since his youth, Feanaro instilled in him the knowledge of his hereditary right to the throne if his father and himself perished. He had toughened him, not allowing him to cry even when he was an elfling. He now saw why his father always spoiled him more than the others, and why he was against Feanaro's parenting philosophy. He had believed this whole time that queerness was inherently a defect, but for once in his life he saw otherwise. He understood why Irime and Findis were so loved by him. They were both alike their father and grandmothers, without repressing their true nature. That was exactly the opposite way Feanaro had raised his sons. Nelyo had been an obedient son, but also a delicate one. He had his mother's delicate nature and gentle manners. Feanaro believed it to be inadequate for a man to be alike his mother, and had instead tried to make him alike himself. But he had not succeeded entirely, for alike Nerdanel he had love for Fingolfin and his children, and for Findekano he had a different kind of love. Had his son committed suicide because of him? Because he had been so toughened by Feanaro during his childhood?
He was to mend his mistakes. Not only was he going to apologize for so many years of emotional pain, but he was to accept his relationship with Findekano, no matter the revulsion he may have to stand. Nolofinwe was right in his thoughts, but he had been mistaken in one thing; his pride was not above all things. Someone had to put an end to his pride, and so it happened to be his half-brother.
Feanaro stood up, ready to leave. He did not wish to reveal his tears, or his emotions for that matter. "Halt! Do not leave. There will be more time to mend your errors."--He heard Nolofinwe say.
"How do you know what I will do or what I won't do?"
"I can see it in your eyes. The pain, the remorse. Those were tears of guilt for Nelyafinwe, I presume. Or will your crippling pride will not even allow you to admit it?"
Feanaro sat down and he wiped away his tears. There was no denying it this time. "Who raised you like this, Curufinwe?"
"Father, of course."
"That is not what I meant and you know it. Who made you cage yourself like some kind of tame bird? Even the eagles of Manwe are free to fly away. Who caged you? Why do you keep bottling your emotions?"
"My pride did. When you, Irime and Arafinwe were brats, father told me to care after you. And I did. But I never cried again since that day, thinking that I was somehow superior to the both of you by not crying."
"Feanaro, we were children. And you were wrong."
"I know I was. Yet I do not plan to make my children pay for my poor judgment."
Feanaro assumed that Nolofinwe would then brag about his intelligence or his children, but he said nothing else. He realized that unlike his version of him, Fingolfin was quite humble. After a long time, Feanaro had the courage to speak.
"You know something, Nolo? I don't hate you. I know that I have said otherwise, and that my actions prove nothing. But I could never really hate you, even when I wanted to. I disliked your mother, for usurping my mother's place. But what you said has made realize that she usurped nothing, and that she made father and my mother happy."
"Thanks for the reminder. Would have been nice to know when I was freezing in the Helcaraxe."
"I never really did ask for your pardon, did I?"
Nolofinwe chuckled. "I do not think you could have even if you wanted to."
"I guess I will never have an opportunity for forgiveness, will I?"--Feanaro kneeled, much to Nolofinwe's surprise.--"Fingolfin Nolofinwe, half-brother, will you forgive me for leaving you stranded in a frozen hell?"
"And?"
"For being a jerk to you and our siblings."
"And?"
"And for the incessant bullying."
"And?"
'"And for trying to get you in trouble with Father."
"And?"
"And for the many, many countless years of incessant harassing.
"And?"
"And for pulling your hair."
"And?"
"And for biting you."
"And?'
"And for kicking you."
"And?"
"And for breaking your nose."
"And?"
"And for bothering my nephews."
"And?"
"And for making your mom feel bad."
"And?
"And for calling you dumb."
"And?"
"And for the pranks I've made my kids do to you."
"And?"
"And for that one time you woke up with your super long hair glued to the bed."
"And?"
"And for that ONE time that I peed on you and Arafinwe. It was intentional."
"And?"
"Basically for all the things I've ever done to you or anyone else."
"And?"
Feanaro was running out of options. He then understood what Nolofinwe wanted him to say. "And for the whole Fingross thing."
"There is one more."
"I am afraid I am running out of options."
"Its actually very general. Something you have always wanted to say but could not gather the courage to do so."
Feanaro inhaled deeply. "I am sorry for making you feel like you weren't my brother, and for not accepting all the others. I am sorry for making you feel guilty about the death of my mother, and for making everyone feel like an insider. I am sorry if I ever hurt you, and for all my misdeeds. I am just very, very, very, very, very, very, very...sorry."
He began to cry sincere tears, fearing he would never obtain forgiveness. "Apology accepted."
Feanaro stood up. "Really?"
"Really."
"After all I have done, you will still forgive me?"
"Of course I forgive you! Had your regret not been sincere I would not have been moved so easily. Besides, what are brothers for, if not to forgive and forget?"
"I have not behaved like one to you."
"That can be mended as well."
"That does not mean that I like you any more than what I did earlier."
"Understood."
"Or that I love you any more."
"Alright."
"Or that we will be best friends like you and Arafinwe."
"Got it."
"Or that I won't be disgusted when the Fingross happens."
"Me neither."
"Or that we will gossip like little girls."
"Agreed."
"Or that I stop calling you Nolofuckwit, even through you are wiser than me."
Nolofinwe coughed. "You-you ADMITTED IT?"
Feanor grunted. "Fine, yes. Father was right for naming you so."
"Feanaro, we both know that is not true. I have always hated my name for it. Of the both of us, you have always been the most intelligent. Father was just doing it to make me feel better."
"I wasn't talking about intelligence. I was talking about wisdom, wisdom of the soul. You know me Nolofinwe-- I am reckless. No one in their right mind would call me wise. Perhaps clever, but nothing else."
"Well, I suppose I am the wise and you the intelligent son."
"That is better. Although"--He said, raising a finger.--"Nolofuckwit will become your nickname. Kind of like a loving curse name, I think. And your sons will be the Nolofuckers."
Nolofinwe laughed heartily. "Due to the current marital condition, I could not think of a better name."
They laughed together, and for once Feanaro saw that he felt something more than acceptance: it was familial, love something he had not experienced since the halls of Mandos. "We shall come to talk to our sons, and tell them that you plan to attend to the wedding ceremony."
"Without a sign."--He said with a smile, and his younger, taller brother ran his arm over his shoulders, a gesture he secretly appreciated. For once, Fingolfin Nolofinwe, high king of the Noldor in Beleriand, was his brother, fully and unconditionally. He was no longer just his half-brother; he was his brother and nothing else.