ataraxion | ☩ ０１２．ＴＥＸＴ

vengeance is the language of Italy, it would seem. And if someone were to hurt my family - how can I avoid wishing to take vengeance? how can I not spite my enemies?

Wishing to take vengeance is not the same. But to take it is useless.

[He combs his fingers through her hair thoughtfully.]

I would tell you of Fëanor, one who brought sorrow and destruction to my home in the name of his family, though I never once met him. The Lady Galadriel could tell you more, for he was her uncle. But I will tell you some, if you will listen.

Why? If it will make others think twice before aiming at your loved ones?

[ it is the heart of the matter in Rome, love and fear and ambition but she nods her head. ]

Tell.

Fëanor was born in the Undying Lands, to one of the first three great elf-kings--Finwë, High King of the Noldor. It is said his mother died from the birth because his spirit burned as a fire. Finwë loved his son dearer than life and mourned bitterly his departed Míriel. But time did pass, and he found love in another while Fëanor was yet young. From his new wife, Indis, two more sons came--Fingolfin, the elder, and Finarfin, the younger. But Fëanor loved them not, and bitterly resented Indis, for he believed she pretended to replace his own mother. He loved his father and believed Fingolfin meant to usurp his place at Finwë's side, though no such thing was true.

It was Fëanor's love and jealousy that the Great Enemy would use against him. For Fëanor was a great craftsman, some say the greatest who ever was, and he made the three Silmarils. Three jewels they were, and none know of what they were made, but in them they held the light of the two Trees of Valinor, which lit the Undying Lands ere sun or moon was made. Morgoth coveted the Silmarils, and though Fëanor held them no less dear than his own life, he swore he would have them.

Do you follow?

[ she nods his head. ]

He missed his mother so much that he could not have accepted his new one.

[ Lucrezia has somehow loved Giulia despite the fact that she had caught her father's eye. Her mother accepted it and Lucrezia took comfort in the fact that her mother was still her father's wife while Giulia was but a mistress. Still, she could understand the anger. ]

And who was this - Morgoth? The one who wanted the jewels he made?

He was once one of the Valar--our gods, you might say, though they themselves were made by Eru Ilúvatar, the One and Father of All. Of the Valar he was the mightiest, till he turned to evil and was cast from their fellowship. But his power, he kept.

He waged war against the Valar, and against the Children of Ilúvatar--Elves and Men, though this was before the waking of Men. He was cunning and patient, and knew how to cause even his enemies to serve his purposes. This is what happened with Fëanor, for though it is said he hated Morgoth, he nonetheless served him without knowing it.

But in these days, Morgoth feigned peace and friendship with the Valar and the Elves in the Undying Lands. Secretly, he plotted vengeance of his own. He began to feed Fëanor's pride and jealousy, fanning the flames of his hatred and ire against his brothers. Fingolfin and Finarfin only wanted the love of their brother and not his place in their father's heart, but Fëanor heard not their pleas. In anger, he drew his sword on Fingolfin in a most sacred place in the home of the Valar, and for this was exiled as punishment. With him he took the Silmarils.

But Finwë loved his eldest son so well that he went with him. In the absence of Finwë and Fëanor, Fingolfin became High King, and it looked to Fëanor as though his suspicions were true. Morgoth went to Fëanor to beg his way inside his house and steal the Silmarils, but Fëanor realized his intent and shut his doors in his face.

[There's a pause at that. Thranduil has something of an undying burning resentment toward Fëanor and his kids, but even he has to admire Fëanor's balls at this point in the story.]

Time passed, and at least the Valar brought Fëanor out of exile that he may have a chance to make peace with Fingolfin. During this time, Morgoth brought into Valinor a creature of darkness. Some say she was like a great spider, consuming all good things in her endless hunger. It was she who sapped the light of the Two Trees and destroyed them. Then Morgoth came to Fëanor's fortress in his absence. He slew Finwë and stole the Silmarils, then escaped away from the Undying Lands to Middle-earth.

All of Aman mourned the loss of the Trees which lit them. The Valar begged him to yield to them the Silmarils, for they knew not yet that they had been stolen and believed their light could return the Trees to them. Fëanor refused, in his greed. Only after did they learn what had happened, and he mourned his father and his Silmarils most bitterly.

In Middle-earth, Morgoth waged war against the Sindar--my kin--wearing the Silmarils in his crown. But Fëanor took a terrible oath, and made his seven sons take the same oath. They swore by Eru Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they should fail to keep it, to 'pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.'"

[Everyone knows that part of the Quenta Silmarillion by heart. If they're an Elf.]

[ Lucrezia frowns, stays silent for a long moment. Can she blame them? if they had such precious items stolen from them only to be worn in another's crown? ]

Did they take back that which were theirs? Did they take the Silmarils from Morgoth?

I will tell you now that, after some centuries of war, they took back two of them. Does this make a happy ending to my story, Lucrezia? Or would you like to hear the tale properly, and judge then?

[ she smiles, covers her lips with two fingers as if to say I'll be a good girl and hear it all.' ]

On the shores of the sea, the Teleri built their ships. These ships were their...art, I suppose. Their magic, their heart's delight. Though they were at the brink of the Light of the Trees while the Trees shone, they loved the sea too much to dwell near the heart of Valinor.

You must understand--weapons were all but unknown in these early days. Fëanor made them first, and his people he armed as they marched to return over the sea, to Middle-earth to seek out Morgoth. The Teleri are kin to the Sindar who remained in Middle-earth. Their king was Olwë, whose daughter married Finarfin. But Fëanor's people had no ships. They came to the Teleri on the shores and asked to take their ships to Middle-earth, but the Teleri refused to give up those ships they held as dear as Fëanor loved his Silmarils. And they knew that Fëanor had some dark purpose, and could not have come with this purpose at the blessing of the Valar, who forbade them from returning to Middle-earth. And indeed, the Valar had admonished him, for he blamed them openly for his sorrows. They had said to him that should he choose to go into exile, he and those who went with him must be exiles indeed and not return.

[He hesitates, watching Lucrezia carefully. Murder won't phase her, he thinks, and no human can understand what the Kinslayings meant. But the First Kinslaying is only the beginning.]

Because they would not give their ships freely, Fëanor and those who followed him--his brothers among them, and their children, and others who believed Fëanor's lies that they were prisoners of the Valar--began a slaughter. They slew the Teleri on their own shores and took their ships, though the Teleri were innocent.

But there were not enough ships to carry all the Noldor to Middle-earth. Fëanor's followers and sons took the ships. Fingolfin, who had sworn to follow his brother in all things, now had no choice but to wait on the shores for his brother to send the ships back. But Fëanor betrayed him and those who followed his brothers, and burnt the ships when he reached Middle-earth. And so the remaining Noldor, exiled from the Undying Lands, had to travel far to the north and cross the sea over the great ice on foot. Much death came upon them, and so Fëanor had already caused death among two peoples, among them his own kin, for spite alone.

And the story is only begun, Oriel.

I can see the lesson.

[ once you humor spite there is no knowing of where the end would be; but isn't it the heart of politics? what is there between the families of Italy if not suspicion and spite? ]

Then guess my riddle. If one is living in a den of families of snakes and each one tries to bite the other - what can one do? There is loyalty only within these families of snakes not among them, yet they all live in the same pit and try to sting one another. If one snake manages to bite another, is it not reasonable for the family to take its vengeance? lest another snake would think of revealing its fangs at one of their own?

[He winds a lock of her hair around his fingers, toying with it gently.]

I know the world you speak of. I lived in it, though I knew it not at the time, for I was very young. We thought ourselves safe from it, so long as we remained outside the wars the Golodhrim--the Noldor, fought with Morgoth. But they came to us nonetheless, the sons of Fëanor, and they destroyed us. We were left without home or leader and fled to safer havens, only for them to come for us once again. I know the bite of the snakes, and the burn of their poison, though we were not snakes. And after the wars were done, we were ruled by the Noldor, by the kin of those who slaughtered our own, and still we were not snakes.

[He glances down at her.]

What would a Borgia have done?

Edited 2013-08-01 13:46 (UTC)

A Borgia would never forget. A Borgia would not forgive. They would be patient, grow stronger without showing true strength until the right moment. But when the moment comes - no one would doubt that angering a Borgia is a foolish deed.

A Borgia would become the thing that hurt them, the thing they resent and hate. Where is the victory in that?

Let them resent and hate; but if they fear us too then our victory is in that. there will always be another enemy in my world, power and ambition and greed moves it. Those who will try to set another set of rules might all perish.

And where is the use in surviving, if we are to be as much a curse to the world as our enemies? What right have I to live then, and what reason if I must hate myself as I hate them?

Then one must find the time to help others who are not their enemies to make certain there is something to live for. To help the poor or the children, to help our families.

While still being one's own enemy. To become like Fëanor's sons would not have brought back Doriath or Sirion or the lives lost there. If I cannot be merciful to my enemies, how can I be truly merciful at all? Is that not what mercy is?

Only God will show them mercy when the time for judgement shall come. And only God will tell if one is good or not, heaven or hell.

[ she frowns up at him. ]

You are a good king to be so kind; I worry for you. You have my heart and my love and I fear others shall not show you the same kindness.

They haven't. But that will not change who I am. [Not like she means, anyway.] That is my revenge, Oriel: I will render what they have done ineffectual. Their evil deeds will bear no fruit, and they themselves will be unimportant in the grander story. They will be remembered as villains who did no good, and my name will not be among theirs. I will protect what is mine, but I will take no other revenge than this.

[ she places another kiss on his cheek. ]

My brother Cesare thinks I am all goodness and sweetness. Yet I am not as forgiving nor as kind as you are. Will you accept me still?

Kind perhaps, but less forgiving than you believe. [He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.] Even my mercy may be born of spite. But we are not so different. I someone harmed my children, death would find them. Not for revenge, but for the safekeeping of others.

[And maybe revenge, a little.]

I do not have children but I know I would do the same.

[ she nods her head slowly. ]

I always thought love to be a dangerous thing. Lovely but dangerous, the more you love the more concerned you become.

[ she smiles. ]

This ship had proved so much.

[He rests his cheek against the top of her head.]

My father and I left the Golodhrim to live among our woodland kin. My father said he wished not to live among those who destroyed us, nor become them neither. But by then even the Golodhrim had become something different, and the sons of Fëanor were lost. Even Morgoth was chained beyond the world in the Outer Void, and in those days the only cause for ill will was that which we made ourselves. The resentment lived for so long that it estranged our nations even when a new Enemy arose. Doubtless it caused my father's death.

Love and joy are dangerous, but they are better, for while they take a chance, revenge is certain to cause suffering.

Love has left me little choice here.

[ it's an honest confession, she loves more people than she should, she loves more people than Cesare would have her loving for it puts her heart at a great risk. you must keep it close, sis, keep it safe. ]

I loved before I knew I did.

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