Chapter Text
Year 380 of the Fourth Age. In general, it was a normal sunny day in summer for the Elves of Valinor. In Formenos people tried to keep on with their everyday life as there was a chance of possible rain coming later in the evening.
“Rûsa? Yuë? Where are you two?” Maedhros called for her two sons while getting help of her husband Rog and their youngest daughter Lówen to look for them. This was a rare day when her whole family would be together for a while, so where in the world were her two boys?
“Maeglin would have mentioned if Rûsa was still in their house, and Snowflake is at our house, so he clearly is not out riding at the moment,” Rog commented as he came running to the agreed meeting place at the central fountain in Formenos.
“Cúwen saw no sight of them at the painting hall, and I saw neither at the walls either.”
And Fëanor and Nerdanel were away to visit Mahtan in Tirion, so their two grandsons by Maedhros would not be at their home. Muttering to herself in growing anger, the only female Fëanorian tried to think of where her currently missing sons could be.
“Oh, of course! The dance hall!”
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Inside the dancehall, one blue-dressed dancer were moving slowly across the floor. His swift, elegant movements seemed to be almost be floating, into something that akin to a big and elegant bird. Like a swan about to fly out of the water. The likeness to a real swan was made even greater by the simple fact that the male dancer was an albino, with the left half of his long hair caught in small braids braided together to form one long single end and the right half hanging loose.
“Rare to see you without collapsing in the middle of a coughing fit.”
Yuë stopped dancing, and his green eyes fell over some of the younger dance students that stood in the door. Oh great, one of those comments about his haleth again. Yuë mentally groaned as he reached for a slate and a piece of white clack, using it to write down:
My brother and I often spar to train up my speed to use during dancing. If done carefully, I can manage a longer training period without getting interrupted by a coughing attack.
They gave him a look of serious disbelief, which got on his nerves. Yuë knew that he was somewhat frail in health due to the dangerous circumstances at his premature birth, but he was no fragile porcelain vase that risked being destroyed at a more rough treatment!
“As if you even would be able to last more than a minute against that brother of yours, he is well-known for his skills on the training field despite spending most of his time painting…”
“And I prefer to not have my baby brother insulted about his dance skills from those who are far younger than himself.”
That was the only warning given ahead before Rûsa gave the three dance students a punishment Nerdanel had not only used on her children when misbehaving but even Fëanor himself when he was rude to Fingolfin: a slap in the back of the head with a hand.
“Well, Yuë, if you are finished, our parents would want you to come home so we can eat,” Rûsa smiled, since Yuë were wiping sweat from his face with a towel. The younger brother nodded to the elder, silently requesting some time for a quick shower and changing to his everyday clothes.
On the way home, Rûsa asked if there had been any comments that could be a sign of hidden bullying against his little brother. By hearing their accent in how they pronounced certain words, he had realized that the dance students were not born or raised in Formenos. Rather, they had to be exchange students from a dancing school in Tirion.
Thankfully not. But yes, people outside Formenos should be used to me doing normal things instead of hiding away in the house...
“If you are not too tired from the dance training, would you like a quick sparring?”
Yuë nodded eagerly, seeing a chance to do something they rarely could do because of various reasons. Each brother taking a starting position, Rûsa nodded to Yuë as a silent signal that he was free to move first. Which he did, with a speed no one would expect to see from him. In fact, even if Rûsa moved back his head, he was hit by a kick to the left side as Yuë tried a new angle in his spinning movements. While it did not get much effect against the muscular chest of his older half-brother thanks to the noticeable height difference between them, it still make him fall back a step.
“Good kick there, Yuë! A movement further upwards and you would have gotten a straight-on kick on my jaw!”
Rûsa's words made his albino half-brother smile faintly, given how rare it was for him to actually get in a good hit on the older brother. Eighty years his senior, Rûsa was far taller with his two meters in height and also more muscular from an active outdoor life. Even so, Yuë hoped that he would be able to get in a new hit.
“BOYS!! Get over here right away, both of you!! ”
The sudden yell in anger from their mother Maedhros from the house made both of them lose balance; Rûsa landed in a rather comical way on his back and ended up tripping Yuë, who narrowly avoided getting his nose broken by the ground thanks to Rûsa quickly putting a large hand on his chest. However, the sudden touch in his chest, which was rather forceful, caused a sharp pain for Yuë and he collapsed down to the ground in a loud coughing fit.
“Yuë!” Maedhros gasped in horror as she arrived just in time to see her younger son fall down. Rûsa tried to explain what they had been doing, even if he ended stuttering over the words as he picked up his younger brother in his arms.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Thankfully, it turned out to not be serious, but Yuë would have a hand-shaped bruise on his chest for a couple of days and he would need to stay in bed for the rest of the day.
So much for the plans of training alongside my brother when we had a chance… Yuë thought in a disappointed feeling where he laid in bed, his back against the window. While he still lived at home with his parents, the items shown in the chamber were those of a adult ner whose great interests laid in dance and writing. Even if Yuë was mute from birth, he still tried to find ways to communicate with other Elves in order to avoid misunderstandings because he could not talk in a traditional manner. As a result, he was skilled in many styles of writing along with dancing. While his sickly health sometimes caused trouble in the middle of a performance, Yuë had won several prizes for his dancing and writing of small plays, which for him was important. Not the prizes themselves, but to be recognized for his own abilities rather than just as a grandson of Fëanor or as the second-born son of his mother Maedhros. While it also sometimes were annoying to have a famous former Lord of Gondolin as father, Yuë knew that Rog could not help that he had gotten the reputation as a hero from Gondolin after his death.
“Heeeello! Where is my favorite albino friend?” someone on the outside suddenly was heard in a loud voice. Mentally groaning as he was in no mood to meet up with the elf closest to be called his best friend, Yuë rolled over to his other side and walked over to the window, tossing away one of the minor fabric balls he used to move his hands right in different dance movements. A surprised scream was heard as the new ball hit the target.
“Hello there, Adamar. What news do you bring along?” Maedhros greeted through a open window, seeing how the young son of Beleg was ducking for the balls thrown from her younger son’s window on the other side of the house.
“Greetings, lady Maedhros! I come with news that… there is gonna be a kind of dance contest among the Avari clans along with a Dwarven fashion show in a month’s time! Ow!” the young blond elf answered, before finally getting a second ball in the head. At hearing why Adamar had came, Yuë looked out through the window, a thinner blanket thrown over his shoulders to keep warm or his family would worry.
“And yes, it was partly for you that I arrived here with those news, Yuë. I know how much you like to dance. Besides, I also heard that princess Saira would be there as a guest with her parents.”
There was a strong blush on Yuë's cheeks at the mention of Saira. Only his family knew about his crush on her, and it had happened more than once that Rûsa had expressed worry that people would blame his marriage to Maeglin if it became known to the public. Even now, with nearly 270 years of being married to each others, it was not unheard that people would throw rude comments about their kinship as a reason to why they should not have been allowed to marry in the first place.
Saira and her parent will really be there? Yuë asked by the use of Ósanwë, not wanting to take longer time by writing down the question.
“Yes, silly moon elf. Now come down for a proper greeting instead,” Adamar called, using the special nickname he had given Yuë back when they were much younger.
Being shy and withdrawn as he was, Yuë had picked up a habit of moving almost like a shadow, which showed itself as he hurried down to the meeting room in the house where Adamar awaited. But him being mute did not stop Adamar from telling a lot of what had happened lately in the woods of Valinor where Thingol and Melian had set up their new home, along with many of their former subjects from the First Age.
“...and Daeron was tossed out from the tavern again, he is far from being as popular as he once was back in Doriath during the First Age, nanaeth says it is because people have grown very tired of that he still have not gotten over Luthien and that he seems to have trouble coming up with a new theme in his songs…”
Yuë only nodded to what Adamar said. Daeron’s trouble with letting go of his millennia-old crush on Lúthien was infamous in pretty much all of Valinor and he was far from the famed minstrel he once had been. Rumours even said that Daeron had started to be overshadowed by much younger Elves who trained to become minstrels, simply because they varied their songs and themes more than focusing on a single target.
He really needs to get over Lúthien, yes.
“Hm-hm, yes, I also think half of his current problems are sexual frustration over being dumped by the girl he liked and he holds her as an ideal toward other young ladies who may try and make him see them as possible life partners. So at least half of his problems would be lessened if he got laid,” Rûsa agreed at hearing what his half-brother said mentally. Both the youngsters blushed, knowing that Rûsa tended to be rather blunt about sexual matters because he was married.
“Given that he was foolish enough to be the reason of my death and spent time in the Halls too, yes! As if I had anything with the quest for the Silmaril, the blame for messing up with Lúthien lays on Celegorm and Curufin! He is lucky to escape with only a life-long banishment from Formenos or risk bodily harm at being seen around here,” Maedhros commented, arriving with a tray of bread buns, as they could not reveal the secret of Rûsa being the former Warg Rider in front of Adamar. Not even her three younger children had been allowed to know that secret, only that Rûsa had spent his first life as a slave in Angband before he had been reborn as her oldest son.
“Some people can indeed become fools in love…”
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Adamar stayed for dinner, before going back to the inn where he had rented a room for some days. Giving their parents some free time together, the four siblings took care of washing the dishes.
“So Túrëo seems afraid of taking it a step further? Well, given what kind of mother he had, I am not surprised that he and his two brothers may still fall into the habit of not daring to stand up for themselves at times,” Rûsa said, handing over a clean plate to Lówen to dry. Beside him, Cúwen signed deeply before looking up at her older brother under her mass of light-orange curls.
“I am not holding that against him, I am just worried that his mother may have caused a too deeply-rooted damage in him to the point that he may never be able to bring himself to become more than very close friends despite our mutual feelings, which is extra painful in that his younger brothers Vórimo and Almo have both married already and started their own families…”
While neither of the other three siblings said anything, they could guess why she was sad. Despite the unpleasant start caused by his parents' actions of revenge against Maedhros for pretty selfish reasons linking back to her youth in the Years of the Trees, Túrëo had become a close friend to Maedhros and her family over the years.
Perhaps he needs a little extra help? A small push in the back to get free from that final chain from his past? Yuë wondered as he polished the last dinner knife with a piece of cloth and laid it among the others on a bigger piece of cloth where he then would place them neatly in the right place.
“Perhaps, but sometimes it is needed for them to make that step alone.”
Both Cúwen and Lówen could be pretty blunt, so neither of their two brothers questioned it. Maeglin, who had helped to clean up the table, looked into the kitchen.
“If you are finished here, Rûsa, then l would be pleased to get some attention from you later,” she said with a faint touch on a small ring in her left ear that did not go unnoticed by him. Since his sisters were focusing on what they had in their hands, only Yuë spotted the faint smile around the corners of Rûsa's mouth, causing him to blush as he realized that it was some secret code between a married couple. Lucky, in that moment, Rog called them to the living room for some quick family talk before the children of the house left for their own homes.
Yuë watched his brother and sisters leave the family home from the window on his chamber. Out of the four, he was the only one still living at home with his parents because his sickly health could cause trouble if something happened and he was alone with no one else to be close by. Besides, with the almost daily training for the dance, he would have very little time to clean a house properly or make food. He was a good cook when it came to simple meals, but tending to the fire for cooking and heating was a big issue when the smoke could cause him to cough. Getting a coughing fit in the middle of starting a fire was not fun.
Sometimes I wish that I was stronger…
Maedhros winced at hearing the mental words of her younger son. She hated how he sometimes seemed to belittle himself for different reasons, especially when people talked about the difference between her sons. Rûsa, the healthy, willful and free-living oldest son who was in a steady marriage while people mostly remembered Yuë for his sickly health and muteness along with him being a albino. He was not often as forwards as his siblings, had only a tiny circle of close friends, and a shy personality often caused him to fall into the background.
“Sweetheart…” she started, placing a hand on his shoulder in a silent attempt to comfort him, which Yuë understood. If anyone of the family, it was Maedhros who knew best how it was to live with a frail health. She may have been a warrior in Middle-Earth, but to a terrible price of her own body being ruined by Angband and from the difficult birth of Rûsa, which nearly had killed her not just from birth complications but the torture she had suffered during the pregnancy as well. She could still recall how she sometimes could not even leave her bed at especially bad days.
Thank you, mother.
The comfort from his parents and siblings helped a lot when he felt down. Even if his life was far from easy because of different things, he could trust his family and close friends to stay at his side.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
As usual, Yuë was a very deep sleeper and did not wake up until that the sun was high in the sky. With a silent groan, he rolled over in bed towards the edge, his landing on the floor softened by his thick nest of blankets. As he sat up, he barely noticed how messy his white hair had become in sleep. Even washing his face with the lukewarm water in the bowl seemed to do little to properly waking Yuë up for the day. Thankfully his room was on the first floor, so there was no worry about him possibly losing balance in the stairs on the way down to the kitchen.
“Good forenoon, son. Your mother is training with her soldiers, your sisters have already left for their own works and I have a request to work out in the forge, but your brother is willing to make a new drawing of you while you trains on your dance today inside the dance hall.” Rog greeted along with the reveal of a simple breakfast for his still half-asleep son.
Morning, father.
Yuë waved faintly on a hand in thanks, before taking a huge slip of his tea. He tended to need several cups of tea before waking up properly. Out of the whole family, he was a true sleepyhead who rarely could get up at dawn unless he had a very good reason for it. Quickly eating his breakfast, Yuë made himself ready for the dance training he did every day.
Despite having a sickly health and it was not common for him to suddenly collapse in the middle of a dance step because of a coughing fit, Yuë was a skilled dancer. He preferred dances with soft, gentle movements that reminded of water. Right now, with using a long silk scarf to make it flow around his body, he proved himself to be enough of a skill to be courted as a dance master if he would try for a licence to start teaching in dancing classes.
“You are graceful in a manner I would never be able to do,” Rûsa commented as he quickly drew up the basic of the position he wanted to paint his half-brother in. He planned to paint Yuë surrounded by swans just taken flight from the water, a fitting motief given that Yuë was a albino.
People may claim that I am the weaker one, but we are not alike our maternal grandfather and great-uncle Fingolfin in terms of relationship.
Rûsa nodded in agreement, they both hated it when people tended to expect their close sibling-relationship to only be a mask, that they one day would mirror Fëanor and Fingolfin during the heat of the events before the banishment to Formenos for twelve Years of the Trees.
“We have different skills, and we are NOT copies of our grandfather and great-uncle. When will people get that into their thick heads?” Rûsa muttered for himself while starting to add the basic ground colour of the background in the painting. Yuë did not respond, as he currently was warming up with some simple dance movements. Then, picking up a long silk scarf, he began to dance. It was a dance known as the “Water dance” because of the soft, slow movements and the use of a blue silk scarf to mime the movements of water. Even as he moved around, Rûsa could still get a very good image of his younger brother in a moment of stillness.
“Hello there!” Adamar called as he arrived, carrying a small basket with some simple snacks inside. He had gotten a small shock the first time he had watched Yuë being able to eat roughly half the amount of food which Rûsa could eat. Granted, the older brother was known as a big eater, but sometimes the younger one could surprise as well. Or perhaps it was no wonder, seeing that Yuë was being active in a different manner thanks to the dance training.
“Nice of you to bring something small to eat, Adamar. How are things going for yourself?” Rûsa asked as he put down the paintbrush beside him on the bench.
The fair-haired young Elf smiled.
“Much well, thank you. I have finally started to match my famed father in how to use a bow. I know that I will never beat him, but he is a good teacher at least.”
Yuë ensured to not let his muscles become stiff just because he took a small break to catch his breath, listening to Adamar as he told a little more of the latest news from Thingol's halls. More than once as per some of his habit, Rûsa gave some pretty blunt comment about whatever it was that Adamar told them about, even Yuë made some silent comments by hand signs and from his facial expressions.
“So… the dance contest is gonna be held in a month, right? Do you know anything more about it?”
“I know that the Wood Clan, Mountain Clan and the Metal Clan will be holding it together, and the Dwarves threw in a offer for showing the different fashion styles of the seven Dwarven Clans over the past Ages.”
Yuë could already see that Rûsa mentally was making plans to travel there, for the chance of making drawings of the Dwarven models and their fashion styles. As for himself, he would enjoy a possible chance to meet up with friends from the Avari clans and loved to dance even if he would not win a prize. The was the spiritual meaning of dance which was important, not winning.
I would like to go as well, I have not met our paternal cousins for a while. And it is always fun to watch what will happen when the ideas of the Dwarves and Elves crashes.
All three of them laughed at the memories of such events they had seen in the past. Even the trio themselves had been involved into something similar over the years, it was hard to avoid misunderstandings at times despite good-hearted attempts to not mess up and offend others.
“One thing is for sure, it is never boring with a Dwarf around,” Rûsa commented with a knowing smile, seeing Celebrimbor and Narvi together in the distance as they seemed to have a rare disagreement about the design of their new front door, with Narvi giving her Elven husband a firm slap on his butt in response for something he had said. The two younger Elves nodded, hoping that it would become a good event with the dance contest.
I hope that my health will not cause trouble again...I would prefer to not collapse in the middle of a dance because I have trouble breathing…
“You know that Calcanis eventually paid with her life for nearly killing you in mother's womb when it became clear that she was behind the poisoning, Yuë. No one expected your birth to be a premature one, not in a such manner. But you are a survivor, you managed to live when even the Valar themselves doubted that you would live for less than a few hours.”
Yuë did not seem fully convinced about that, going by the look in his green eyes. With a somewhat absent glare, he wrote down a few words in tengwar on a blank parchment Rûsa had yet to use.
“A new song, my friend?” Adamar asked as he looked over Yuë's shoulder. The albino only nodded as he started to write down some lyrics for the song. Rûsa took the chance to paint the basic colours of Yuë's blue training clothes, adding the darker shadows over the light fabric in the drawing. Soon enough Yuë raised back to his feet to dance some more, Adamar following. However, the son of Beleg was not that grateful in terms of dancing despite being a fellow Elf and thus gave Rûsa a reason to try and hide a laughing fit when Yuë easily outshone his best friend during the dance steps.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Two hours later, Yuë had washed off himself in the bathroom. He needed to rest now during the afternoon if he did not want to collapse from fatigue or from overdoing his training.
I hate this weak health of mine...but if it is the price of surviving my premature birth, there is nothing I can do about it… In fact, Yuë had confessed to his family that he was terrified of dying, even with knowing that his soul would end up in the Halls of Mandos, a fear partly explained in that so many of his family members had not gotten a peaceful death back in the First Age. It had not helped that Yuë had actually come close to death several times during the first months after his premature birth, struggling for survival outside the womb too early and fighting with weak lungs just to breathe.
On the other hand, I am pleased over that my brother and I am not too similar to each other, people are fools if they think that I would really want to mirror my elder brother in almost everything just because he is the older brother…
Yuë was proud over the small trumpf in that he was far better than Rûsa on dancing, as the elder brother tended to have trouble with his long limbs in the more swift dance movements and his tall height could actually be something of a hindrance for the more advanced dance steps. Small victory, perhaps, but still a victory.
With a small smile, Yuë allowed himself to fall down on his back and arms wide as he landed on his bed. Looking up on the roof, he was meeting with a well-painting dark blue night sky with stars and the moon shining on the clouds, another one of Rûsa's work from when Yuë had wished to re-decorate his sleeping chamber after coming of age as a sign of maturity. In fact, the theme colour was actually a mint green colour in a very elegant style which fitted the albino Elf very well. Picking up a book from the bed table while sitting in a cross legged style, he prepared to read for a while since he had eaten a light luncheon in response for his late breakfast and dinner would not be finished yet in a few hours.
“Yuë? I have some newly-brewed mint tea if you want a cup?” his mother called from the other side of the door after a knock. Three careful knocks on his bed table told her that it was alright to enter. Maedhros entered with a small tray where she had placed the tea and some biscuits, smiling at her youngest son. Even if he was an adult now, she still wanted him to know that if there ever was a problem, he could always come to his family for help.
Mother, I would like to take part in that dance contest, but I would like someone to come along with me there in case I get ill.
His somewhat frail health was the main reason to why Yuë had not moved out to a house of his own in Formenos, he feared to be unable to get help if something serious happened and he was alone at home.
“Your brother have gotten a request to paint the Seven Dwarf-Fathers' wives in their various Clan cultural clothes, and Maeglin have planned to met up with her family there as well, so there is already just to come along.”
That made Yuë smile, since his brother and law-sister would know what to do if things got messy for him. Besides, perhaps he finally would gain enough courage to reveal his feelings for Saira after so many years of silence about how he felt for her, even if she may end up rejecting him for someone else.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author’s note: Adamar is a OC character borrowed with permission from an Roleplay-page on Facebook, where he is the son of Beleg Cúthalion and Nellas of Doriath. Maedhros is referred as the only female Fëanorian because she is the only daughter of Fëanor's seven children, her own four children are not viewed as direct Fëanorians because they are the grandchildren of Fëanor and Nerdanel