A one-shot featuring Finwë, Indis and (one of my favourite Elves) Fëanor, that's based before Finwë remarried.

Disclaimer: The characters in this piece belong to the awe-inspiring man, JRR Tolkien. I am merely using them as I see fit, filling in whatever (small) gaps Tolkien has left to us and our imaginations.

For His Happiness:

"How, how could you do this?"

"Fëanor, my son, please, listen---"

"-I thought Naneth meant a lot to you, I thought she meant the world to you!" The dark-haired Elf stopped, not noticing that his breath was coming out in quick, short bursts. "Clearly, I thought wrong."

There was a pained expression on his father's face, and for a brief moment, he regretted his harsh words.

"Fëanor, I loved, I still love Míriel, with all my heart," said Finwë, the High King of the Noldor. "Yet at the same time, I wish to have a large family…to have many heirs…so that my line will continue…"

"But you have me!" exclaimed Fëanor, "Is that not enough? Am I not enough for you, Adar?"

"No!" Finwë reached out and placed a hand on his son's arm. "No…do not say that in my presence ever again, Fëanor…" The Noldor King paused. "You mean the world to me…and nothing will change that. Besides, I know that you will like Indis. She is fair, kind and exceptionally beautiful-"

"-I'm sure that Naneth was fair, kind and beautiful too," said Fëanor, sullenly, acting for the first time like the young child that he was. Silence surrounded the two companions for a while, as father and son stared at each other.

"I see…" said Finwë at last. "I see that you are completely against this whole idea of a second marriage…" When he next looked at his son, there was a saddened expression on his face. "Very well, my son, if you feel so strongly against it…I…will speak to Indis and talk about cancelling our plans…"

Fëanor stared at his father in surprise.

"You…would do that?" Finwë nodded, although his heart was heavy.

"Aye," he said, softly. "For, as I have said countless times before, you mean the world to me, my son, and if I am doing anything that you do not like, I will stop it at once." He managed to send his son a half-hearted smile. "For your happiness comes first. It always will."

"Adar-" Whatever Fëanor had been about to say was interrupted by the appearance of another Elf in the room.

"Forgive me your highness, your majesty," said the Elf, bowing his head in acknowledgement of the two royals. "But Prince Fëanor's presence is requested in the smithy…"

Fëanor was about to tell the Elf that he would be there in a while, once he had finished conversing with his father, but Finwë spoke up for him.

"Go, my son," he said, smiling. "Do not keep the other Elves waiting." He nodded at the Elf, politely. Realizing that that was his father's subtle way of telling him that he had already made up his mind and that he wanted to be alone for a moment or two, Fëanor simply nodded at him.

"I will speak to you about…this matter later, Adar," he said, before he turned and walked out of the room, with the other Elf following him.

As he closed the door behind him, his sharp ears caught the sound of his father's resigned, heavy sigh.

It was said by many who were in the smithy that day, that the young Fëanor was extremely thoughtful, and that his brows were furrowed in deep thought as he did his work.

A little while later:

The golden-haired Elf maiden stared silently at her companion, watching the different emotions that flitted across his face and in his light eyes. She didn't need to see much else to know that he was making a tough decision.

"…So you will have this event called off…" she said, at last, never taking her eyes off the Noldor High-King. Finwë stared at her, a pained expression flashing briefly across his face.

"Aye," he said, quietly. "…I will."

"Because you feel that it would not be in the best interests of your son?"


"And what of your best interests?" Finwë shook his head.

"Fair Indis, my desires mean nothing to me…not when I have the best interests of my son to think of…"

Indis was quiet for another moment or two.

"Ai, by the Valar, I have never seen a father willing to go to this extent to ensure his son's happiness," she said, at length. Finwë smiled sadly at her.

"He is all that I have, Indis," he said. "He is the last memory that I have of Míriel…" Indis allowed a heavy sigh to leave her lips.

"You still mourn for her," she commented. "And I can understand that. You loved her so very much after all." She returned his sad smile. "It would be nice to have the love of someone as noble and loyal as you, my good lord…but if it is not meant to be, then so be it."

Finwë stood from his seat and slowly approached the Vanyar Elf-maiden.

"Indis, I am so very sorry. I should not have…duped you in this manner. In fact, I now believe that I should have mentioned all of my plans to Fëanor before we made such great plans for our future…"

Indis shook her head.

"Nay, my lord," she said. "What will come will come, no matter what we do." She absently brushed a stray strand of her golden-hair away from her face. "But I do hope that your son will be happy once more, when he hears of this."

Finwë nodded.

"He will be," he said. "He would not ask something of me without meaning it…I know my son well. He may still be a child, albeit in the last few stages of being one, but...he is wiser than most are, at his age."

"I will speak to my brother, then," said Indis, not looking too pleased with the idea. "And I will try to keep him from coming after you with his sword drawn."

Finwë managed a smile as he thought of the High King of the Eldar.

"I shall have to go into hiding for a while, if he should decide to do that..." The smile disappeared as he took Indis' hands in his own. "Will you ever, ever be able to forgive me, Indis? I...know that I would not be able to do so, if I was in your position, so I cannot expect too much from you. But I would---"

Freeing one of her hands, Indis placed her fingers over his lips, effectively silencing him. The smile the appeared on her lips spoke volumes of her kind and loving heart.

"Ai, Finwë, there is nothing to forgive. I love you, and I know you share this love for me." She shook her head, still smiling. "And I love you even more, now that I see how much you love your son. I only pray that all children of the Eldar can be blessed with fathers like you..."

Finwë sighed.

"Nay," he said. "Just pray that all the Eldar have sons like mine..." Indis, rather wisely, said nothing to that, although in her mind, she was somewhat sceptical of her lord's words.

"I should leave..." she said, after a while. "And seek my brother before he goes any further with his planning."

"I will personally apologize to Ingwë," said Finwë. "It is only right that I do that," he added, when he saw the worried expression on his lover's face.

"Very well," said Indis, "But I will accompany you when you see him. Valar knows what my dear, over-protective brother will do to you, should you be alone in his company."

Finwë laughed sadly.

"You give me much encouragement, my fair lady," he said. "Thank you, but mayhap you can stop before I decide to not meet him?"

"That was my plan, my good lord," replied Indis, her eyes twinkling. Finwë said nothing, as a faraway expression entered his eyes. Staring into them, Indis allowed herself to sigh mentally. To think that she had been looking forward to her wedding...only to have her hopes dashed to the ground in such a manner.

She wanted to blame and curse the Noldor prince, Fëanor, but knew that she could not do that. It was only normal that he feared for his position in his father's heart. He was not used to sharing his father's love with others, and that worried him. Nay, she was sure she would have felt the same, had she been in the Prince's position.

She also knew that if he knew how much this decision hurt his father, he would immediately speak to him and change his mind. For, as much as Finwë loved his precious son, there was no greater love held for a father by his son than that of Fëanor's.

And even the Valar marvelled at that love, for it was strong and pure.

A sudden knock on the door caused her to snap out of her reverie, and, glancing at the Noldor king, she saw the surprised expression on his face.

"Come in," called Finwë, unconsciously wondering who the 'visitor' could be, for no one visited him at this time of the evening. Not even his son, for Fëanor was usually at the smithy until late in the evening, only returning in time for dinner.

The doors to the study opened, revealing the tall, dark-haired figure of his son. Finwë froze as he saw his son stiffen upon catching sight of the Vanyarin Elf.

"Adar," he said, bowing his head politely in his father's direction. "My lady." Indis returned his acknowledgment by inclining her head to him.

"Is something the matter, Fëanor?" questioned Finwë, as he caught sight of his son's eyes and sensed that something troubled him. "What is it, my son?" Moving away from Indis, he took a few steps in his son's direction, feeling suddenly anxious. "Fëanor...?"

Indis wondered if it was just her imagination, or if the Noldor prince was struggling to say something.

"I..." Fëanor stopped, glancing briefly and impassively at the golden-haired Elf-maiden who stood behind her father.

Both older Elves noticed this, and Finwë's face fell.

"My lord Finwë, prince Fëanor," said Indis, politely. "I must take my leave, and look for my brother." She smiled at Finwë. "Mayhap I will see you sometime later, my good lord. If not...I wish you and your son the best of---"

"-No." There was a distressed expression on Finwë's face as he turned to his son, who had spoken.


"-No, there is no need for you to do that, my lady," continued Fëanor, glancing at his feet instead of at either of the Elves.

If his words hurt Indis, she did not show it.

"I...I see," she said, softly. "Forgive me, I did not mean to upset you. I was merely wishing the two of you the best of luck and---"

"-What?" When Fëanor did look up, there was a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

"I said that I was merely going to wish the two of you the best of luck, when you...stopped me. I did not know that that would upset you..."

Fëanor shook his head as realization dawned on him.

"Nay, my lady," he said. "That was not why I stopped you. I merely wished to tell you that there was no need for you to leave."

Indis had nothing to say to that.

"What is it that troubles you, my son?" asked Finwë, frowning slightly at his son's rather...odd behaviour. For when had his son bothered to 'tolerate' the presence of the Vanyarin Elf?

When Fëanor turned his gaze to him, his father was surprised to see the emotion lurking in his eyes.

"I...wish to discuss our earlier conversation, Adar," he said, quietly.

"Earlier conversation...?" Finwë paused. "What-"

"-It was about your plans to...marry." He glanced ever so briefly at the golden-haired Elf. "I want to apologize for my harsh words. I spoke without thinking, Adar, and I would like you to forgive me for that."

Finwë shook his head.

"My son, there is no need to apologize for speaking your heart. You were being honest, and I appreciate that."

"Honest?" Fëanor laughed. "I was being selfish, Adar." He shook his head, taking a deep breath as he did so. "I...cannot expect you to deny yourself the happiness that you rightfully deserve. I have realized that the happiness you deserve is not what I can give you. Rather, it is what...the Lady Indis has to offer; marriage and children; as opposed to the love that I can give you, as your son."

He paused, before he glanced at Indis, who was staring at him out of widened eyes. "My lady, if you will promise to keep my father happy, if you will promise that he gets the happiness that he deserves..." he paused for a brief moment. "...then I will give you my consent and my...blessings, for a happy marriage."

Silence descended upon the three Elves in the study, as the two older Elves stared at Fëanor, who returned their stares evenly.

"Fëanor, my son, I...nay, my son, there is no need for you to suddenly...I know that you were against this and—"

"-Adar," interrupted Fëanor, gently. "I meant everything that I just said. Please, do not make things more difficult for me, after everything I went through to actually come out and say what I did."

All that Finwë could do was stare at his son.

Indis, however, seemed to recover faster, as she took the few brisk steps needed to stand in front of the Prince. In a sudden act, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him into her embrace.

Fëanor stiffened as she made contact with him, and only relaxed ever-so slightly when he realized that all she was doing was giving him a...hug.

"Thank you," whispered Indis, into his ear. "I promise you, I swear upon the Valar, that I will do everything in my power to keep your father happy. I will not break this promise, Fëanor, son of Míriel."

Fëanor nodded, not trusting himself to speak, before he pulled away from the embrace.

Just because he had given them his blessing did not mean that he liked the Vanyarin Elf. Nay, he would tolerate her from now onward, but that was for his father's sake.

"If you will excuse me, Adar, I wish to clean up before dinner."

Finwë was snapped out of his trance-like state at his son's words. Soon, Fëanor found himself wrapped up in another embrace, although he fully relaxed in this one.

Indis watched the father and son, a soft smile on her face as she did so. She thought herself privileged, to see the strong bond between father and son with her own eyes.

"My son..." Finwë stopped, a lump in his throat making it difficult for him to swallow. "I...do not know what to say..."

Fëanor smiled into his father's embrace.

"Just tell me that you will always consider me your well-loved son, Adar..." There was a slight tremor in his voice as he said this, belying his anxiousness at having the fact confirmed. It also betrayed how young he really was, despite his wise words and advanced thinking.

Finwë hugged him tighter.

"Oh my son, never doubt that one fact. You have meant the world to me, ever since the day you were born, and nothing, nothing will change that. Even if I have other children, I will not forget that you are my firstborn."

Fëanor nodded, letting out a soft sigh of relief. He knew he could trust his father's words. A moment later, he pulled away from his father's embrace.

"I must clean up before dinner," he said, bowing politely to his father, the king. "My lady, I will perhaps see you later..." With a polite nod in her direction, he turned and stalked out of the study, closing the doors firmly behind him.

He had meant every word that he said; if a marriage to that...proud, Vanyarin Elf would make his father happy, then a marriage to her his father would have.

But if she so much as caused a tinge of sadness to appear on his father's face, or in his eyes, he would make sure that she paid dearly for it.

He sighed. His father had chosen her, and he trusted his father's choices.

Perhaps Indis would not be as bad as he made her out to be?

Only time would tell.


Well, that's it! I was thinking of putting up a second chapter, either having the actual wedding/bonding ceremony of Finwë and Indis, or having Fëanor interacting with his two step-brothers. But I'll have to see about that. Until then, this will remain a one-shot piece.

Hope you liked it!

See ya!