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CHAPTER 1 FINAL NOTES
I'm not generally that much of a Fëanor fan, but you can't deny that he was an interesting character.
Faenor is the proper Sindarin form of Fëanáro.
CHAPTER 2 TITLE
Findis
CHAPTER 2 INITIAL NOTES
[NONE]
CHAPTER 2
People only ever called her by one name, and she was content with it.
She was the first daughter of Finwë, the first child of Indis, and she loved them both. She tried to love Fëanáro as well, she really did, but he made it so hard. She always wondered if he felt resentment at her name, but his was so much more distinctive.
Her name was merely a merging of those of her parents. Finwë, hair-man, and Indis, the valiant woman, but also the bride. She was the Valiant of the Hair, but many heard her name and scoffed. They never showed it, of course, for that would be impolite, and to antagonize any child of Finwë was not something to be advised. But the word indis still meant bride, and those who scoffed likely said with loose tongues, “What use does Finwë Ñoldóran have for a daughter, except as a bride for some other?”
And yet she made the name her own. She acknowledged her descent, that she was the daughter of Finwë, that she was royalty. And also that she was the daughter of a member of the Vanyarin royal family, and was that not also something to be proud of?
They whispered of how different Indis was from Míriel, how different Findis was from Fëanáro. It seemed that they each had inherited the skills of their mothers. But Findis was quiet and did not draw attention to herself, while Fëanáro’s very existence screamed exorbitance. And Fëanáro was ever eager to express his own ideas, while Findis would listen to what anyone said, and learn that way.
For she was still the daughter of Finwë, who was King for a reason, and related to the Ingaran, acknowledged as the most noble of all Kings. She could pay attention and absorb what others said without taking it (overly) to heart.
She rejoiced in the birth of little Ñolofinwë, for now she truly had a brother that she could know. And then when she met Írimë who was named Lalwendë with all her laughter, she was no longer the only daughter of Finwë, and it was a relief upon her to know that she would no longer bear all the stares herself. A guilty relief, perhaps, but a true one. And for little blond Arafinwë, the child no one seemed to know what to do with, overly perceptive and noble? She found more companionship in him, the youngest child of Finwë, than with any other. For they both knew how to watch, and listen, and learn.
When the Darkening came that was nearly a mantra for her. Watch, listen, learn. Do not draw attention to yourself, it’s safer that way. More comfortable. Fëanáro’s spite will not fall upon you, people will not think of you as nothing but a bride with no husband (for you have not found anyone who you love and is deserving,) the gaze of Amil will pass over you with your Ñoldorin hair and looks. Let Ñolofinwë try to shield you, he does not understand. Let Arafinwë worry, and let her worry as well.
But then the arrogance of Fëanáro resulted in the murder of her father, and she could not let go of that.
She loved Finwë, for although he had never really understood her, he had cared for her. She knew that he favoured Fëanáro, and after that Ñolofinwë, and only occasionally resented him for it. And when her father left for Formenos, she had kept things together behind the scenes, organized the dealings that needed to be done to keep Tirion running smoothly. But that love for her father did not necessarily carry over to devotion to Fëanáro.
“I will not leave Aman,” she declared, and watched as Fëanáro sputtered, Ñolofinwë shifted uncomfortably, Lalwen stared uncomprehendingly, and Arafinwë gazed back. Then as Fëanáro turned his head, saying that he did not need her to go, that she would not be of use. She was content with that. For alone in Aman, she could still find joy with her mother.
And when Arafinwë arrived in Tirion again, having turned back while there was still time, she gladly yielded the throne to him, for while she could handle the organizational affairs of the throne well she had no wish to do so again.
“Then what will you do?” he asked her.
All her life she had lived primarily as a daughter of Finwë, acknowledging the Fin in her name. But now she wished to change. Her father was dead, and she had to live with that.
“Is not my mother’s name part of my own?” she inquired. “I will accompany her to the palace of the Vanyar, and stay with her there. She will need someone who knows what we have gone through, at least in part, and you will be busy.”
He hears her unspoken comment that she will use her Vanyarin descent now, and nods. “Then may your road be smooth.”
Soon after, as things were considered soon in Aman, she departed for the palaces of the Vanyar with her mother. And there she was - well, not exactly honoured, but respected enough - as a relative of the Ingaran. She watched, listened, and learned, gaining her own place, slowly helping to reshape and heal the damages caused by the Darkening. She’d visit her brother and help her mother, her family more important to her than perhaps anything else.
She never did end up being anyone’s bride. And Findis was fine with that.
CHAPTER 2 FINAL NOTES
Findis is a combination of Finwë and Indis, and there's no confirmed amilesse. This leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation.
Ingaran was a title of the High King of the Elves