The Measure of Bravery

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Do not look at
me like that, my brothers. Do not gaze at me as if I am a coward. Do you think
this is easy? You, my brothers, are about to sail your pilfered ships to a land
where none but your own consciences will know of the blood you have spilt. I
am about to return to the broken remains of our people who cannot lift their
heads to meet the eyes of their neighbours, for their blood stains the hands
of our kin. You, my brothers are about to sail ships you bought with the blood
of their makers to a land where none will see the blood on your hands, but you
yourselves. I am about to return and face my wife, whose kin you have slain,
whose birth-city you have bloodied, and convince her that my hands, our children’s
hands, are clean. Our children… my children will not follow me my brothers,
yet I am brave enough to suffer this separation for I know I am right.
Do not look at
me like that, my brothers. Do not gaze at me as if I am a coward. Do you think
this is easy? You, my brothers go to a land where the Valar are but dim memories.
I return to them to humble myself at their feet, knowing that they are not wise
beyond fault but knowing that they are wiser than us, accepting any doom that
they may lay upon me. If you, my beloved brother Fëanor, could but be brave
enough to admit that despite your fire, the Valar are still greater, you would
not be doomed, your sons, my nephews would not be doomed. I refuse to see the
eight of you fall, and fall you will, for you are not brave enough to get down
on your knees and beg Eru to forgive and release you from your rash vow. Your
hands are red, my dear brother Fingolfin, and you are afraid of what doom would
be yours if you return now to the Ring of Doom. You find the prospect of dying
bravely in battle more appealing, yet there is greater bravery here now in turning
your back on battle and returning to face the consequences of your actions.
Do not look at me like that, my brothers. Do not gaze at me as if I am a coward.
Do you think this is easy? You, my brothers, go on without your wives, you go
on without the other half of your soul. You, my brother Fëanor, choose to turn
your back on the one who made you complete instead of being brave enough to
do what it would take to hold on to her. She didn’t ask for much, my brother.
All she wanted was for you to temper your ambitions, as you are not a power
of the world.  All she wanted was for you to stop trying to be one.  Spirit
of fire you may be, but I remember how you feared being swallowed by a love
as deep as the ocean. I know why she does not follow you, my brother Fingolfin.
She cares not for revenge, for she has seen what deeds fuelled by its desire
can do. All she wants is for you to know this as well. Yet, you turn away from
her, too frightened of failure to attempt to redeem yourself in her eyes. I
am brave enough to return to my soul, to win her back, to risk being broken
in spirit by her words of cold rejection. I am brave enough not to turn away.
Do not look at
me like that, my brothers. Do not gaze at me as if I am a coward. Do you think
this is easy? No my brothers, it is not I who is taking the cowards way out.
It is you. I love you both, and no matter what you do, I will love you not one
jot less, but I will not follow you. I am brave enough to defy you and hold
to my beliefs.
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Author’s notes: Thanks to Lady Legrace for beta reading.