Finwian's One-shot Collection:
Of The Arafinwian Hair Dye
For @tyelkoandtimo-week day 1
Tyelko looked up from his coloring to look at Findo, eyebrows raised in question, and Findo continued now that he had his attention.
“You could have been my brother, and no one would have doubted it.”
Findo was smiling. His cousin, though, not…so much. Findo's smile dropped as soon as he saw Tyelko's eyes being filled with tears. He scowled, dropped his head and almost fell down in his hurry to get off the chair and run out of Findo’s room.
He sat there, as Atya would call it, shell-shocked, and could barely move until he heard his emmë call his name with anger.
“Care to explain what happened, Findaráto Ingoldo Arafinwion? Why did I just see your cousin whom you had begged to have a playdate with for days running to the garden crying?”
Findo dropped his gaze. So Tyelko was actually crying. But why? What had he said to set him off? And crying? Tyelko?
Tyelko would have been ripping him a new one if he had said something offensive, but crying? Tyelko didn't cry. He made people cry.
“I don't know, Emmë. I didn't think what I said could make him sad.”
Ëarwen simply raised an eyebrow, but some of the tension left her body. And she nodded when her son was brave enough to look her in the eyes.
Findo pouted but obliged.
“I told him…I told him people wouldn't doubt it if we told people he's my actual brother rather than …calling him brother because we're friends and family. Because his hair looks like yours.”
Findo watched his mother sigh in frustration and massage the bridge of her nose like she always did when she didn't know what to do. And for some reason, she looked sad.
Even though Emmë didn't look angry anymore, Findo somehow felt worse than he did before.
“Emmë? Did I say something wrong? I…I thought it would make him happy. Doesn't…doesn't he like me enough to be my brother?”
And now Findo felt like crying too. He liked Tyelko, and he had always imagined having an older brother like him. Yes, he wasn't that older than Findo. Less than two years, Emmë told him once. But Moryo was just a few months younger than him, and Tyelko protected and took care of him like he did with Curvo and Findo himself did with Arto and Ango. He eyed his emmë’s round belly. And like he would do for the future baby.
But what if Tyelko didn't love him that much? The thought hurt more than he imagined.
Ëarwen cooed at him before pulling him into her arms. Findo went gladly.
“I'm sure Tyelko likes you a lot too. And you didn't say anything wrong, love. You just reminded him of some mean words other, bad elflings like to tell him.”
Findo frowned. Other people being mean to Tyelko? Findo didn't like that at all.
This, his mother did not answer.
“It’s not my place to tell you, my love.”
She stepped back, before reaching to hold his face and raise it so she could look him in the eyes.
“Go on, sweet one. Go get your cousin to come back. And if he feels like it, he will tell you all himself. Don't push it, though. He's been sad enough.”
Findo nodded seriously, mouth set in a firm line. He bolted out of the hall and towards the gardens, already shouting Tyelko's name.
“Tyelko! Cousin! Please, come out! I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you…”
He looked around the garden, from the rose bushes to the great willow tree by the eastern walls, and found no sign. He was reminded of how good Tyelko was at hide and seek, and how only Finno was able to find him the last time they played and only after five hours. Findo would never be able to find him on his own.
“Please, Tyelko. I didn't mean it like that…I …I just wished to have someone like you as my older brother. I don't know what those elflings have told you, but none of it is true! I promise! Can you come out, please? I feel really bad about it.”
Seconds passed with no sign of any movement, even as he turned around so he could look at all the possible hiding places.
He was starting to feel discouraged when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, not having expected the sudden touch, and turned around to find a teary eyed Tyelko. He was pouting, his fluffy bangs covering most of his eyes so he could hide the redness of them.
Without wasting a moment, Findo reached out and pulled him in for a hug. Tyelko loved hugs, even if he tried denying it at times. They always made him feel better about what he was sad about.
At first, Tyelko didn't hug him back, sniffling and burying his face in the crook of Findo's neck. But eventually, he too, raised his arms and held him.
“Do you feel better now?”
He felt him nod, and Findo reluctantly broke the embrace. They needed to talk.
Tyelko still looked a little snotty, so Findo reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief. He held it in front of Tyelko's nose. Tyelko looked a little shocked at first. Probably had not expected Findo to carry handkerchiefs with himself like adults did. But he eventually caught on and blew his nose out.
Findo balled the dirty cloth and put it back in his pocket. He'd throw it into his laundry basket later.
“Can we talk about what happened? Why did you run out crying?”
Tyelko's eyes widened a little, and his pale cheeks reddened not so subtly. He looked down with a frown.
Findo bit his lip. He reached out to take a hold of Tyelko's hand and led him towards the shade of the nearest tree so they could sit.
Tyelko followed wordlessly and sat down next to him, pulling his knees to his chest.
None of them spoke for a while, enjoying the warmth of the late morning. Until Tyelko broke the silence.
“I heard…I heard some elflings in Haru’s court talking about me. About my hair…said it doesn’t look like my atya’s. Rihtarië said…said her mother had told her it’s because my atya isn’t really my atya. Said her emmë had told her that my emmë was infid…infidelity. I don’t know what that means, but it sounded mean. So I asked my haru Mahtan because I didn’t want my emme and atya to know. He got so angry that Haruni had to hold him so he could calm down. I still don’t know what it means, but it makes my haru angry and it means that my atya isn’t really my atya and it’s all because my hair looks like this! I…I hate it. I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!”
He yelled, pulling at his hair harshly. Findo frowned and took the hand gripping the pale strands gently, pulling it away until Tyelko relented and let go.
He still looked sad though, Findo realized, his heart clenching.
He didn’t quite know what he could do to make it better. Could talking with the other elflings help? He knew he had a way with people and could often convince them to listen to him. but, he wasn’t sure how it could help. They had already said those words. Tyelko was hurt, and knowing him, he wasn’t going to forget them even if he forgave them. So what?
I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!
“What if you could change it?”
Findo heard a sniffle. He looked up and found his cousin looking at him. Tyelko’s eyes were wide, his brows drawing together as he frowned.
Findo hummed as he looked around. He hadn’t really thought about it, but how hard could it be? There must be some sort of paint or dye they could use. He looked down at his own brown shirt. It wasn’t always this color, surely. He had seen how people did it in Alqualonde, dyeing the silk threads in all the colors of the rainbow. But Tyelko didn’t want the colors of the rainbow. He wanted brown or black. What could they use?
Shadows of leaves moved upon the grass as Findo stared at the ground. He frowned and looked up. The light danced upon his face, and Findo smiled.
“Come on Findo! Tell me what happened. I promise I won’t be mad.”
Maitimo, despite his words, looked as livid as he could. And therefore Findo was convinced telling him anything was not a good idea. Which explained his silence as he stared at his own feet swinging back and forth.
Tyelko wasn’t crying anymore. He had wept and sobbed and sniffled on his brother’s shoulder until he had tired himself out and now slept in Maitimo’s arms. Findo wished to be held too, but he understood it was his own fault they had come to this, and so he had swallowed his tears until he didn’t feel like crying anymore.
“Findo? If you don’t talk I’m forced to ask your father to speak with you. Do you want him to find out?”
Findo gulped. No he did not. Atya always told Emmë everything, and he didn’t want them both to be mad at him on top of Nelyo and his parents. Possibly Haru and Haruni too.
“Tyelko wanted to change his hair. To be like Uncle Fëanáro or Kano and Moryo. So…I helped him?”
Finrod wasn’t quite sure where to look. At Nelyo’s tired face or his own sorry masterpiece that was Tyelko’s hair. The now pale orange strands glared at him. Findo looked away.
“You…what does that even mean? How did you help him?
And that he had an answer to.
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
Tyelko sounded skeptical. Findo brushed it off with a laugh as he crushed the boiled oak bark which was slowly forming a paste texture, getting ready to be put on Tyelko’s hair.
Findo grimaced. Tyelko had indeed trusted him, and now they were in this mess.
“I made him a dye out of oak bark. I really thought it was going to work, Nelyo! I just didn’t use enough! If you just let me–”
Findo looked down immediately. Right. He shouldn’t have said that.
“I'm very, very disappointed in you. I thought you knew compassion best out of all of our cousins, Findaráto. It is not Tyelko's fault he has white hair. And it is not a fault at all! He's perfect the way he is. You should have told him that instead of trying to fix his problem.”
Now, Findo really felt like crying too. It had not been what he had intended at all! He too thought his cousin was perfect the way he is. Yet, it had been what Tyelko had wished for. He wanted to change his hair color, and Findo had respected it and had tried to help him. Why was he being scolded now?
He sniffled quietly, swallowing down the sobs trying to escape his throat. He wasn't the one who's been wronged here. He shouldn't be crying.
Yet, he could not quite help his voice breaking when he explained things to Nelyo. He was forgiving. He would understand why Findo had done what he had done.
“I–I know! I love him–I love him the way he is too! But–but that's what he wanted! I– Findo just wanted to help!”
He whimpered, realizing he was starting to sound like a baby again. Even Arto didn't talk like that anymore.
He heard his cousin sigh, and he almost jumped when a warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. He looked up and through teary eyes, he found Maitimo looking at him with a gentle smile.
“I know, dear one. I know. But sometimes what people want is not really what they need. Say, if you had a stomach ache, and you wanted more candy, am I supposed to give you more candy or some medicine to relieve you from your pain?”
Findo sniffled and wiped his eyes, pouting. While he would have said candy in a heartbeat, he knew from experience what it did to elflings when one had too much too quickly. It was never worth the pain.
He pulled a face when he said it, and Maitimo couldn't help but laugh.
“That is true. While Tyelko wanted you to help him fix something he didn't need fixing, it wasn't what he needed. He needed you to tell him that he should not think of what others said. And he needed you to tell him that he is beautiful the way he is, and that we all love him this way.”
Findo looked deep into the kind eyes of Maitimo and nodded.
Someone mewled. Findo looked up, watching as Tyelko’s eyebrows drew together. His eyelids fluttered, his white lashes sticking together from all the crying. He slowly opened his eyes. Maitimo held him tighter as his lips trembled, and shushed him before he could start crying again.
“Hush now! You have cried enough. There is no need for more tears.”
Tyelko sniffled but bit his lips to stop himself from crying. He grasped his brother's collar to pull himself up in his lap. Findo grimaced, seeing his peach colored hair falling and framing his face again.
“You know what Atya would say. Don't do something if you are going to cry about it later. It is your mistake, and you should own it and try to redeem it. You have hurt yourself this time, Tyelko. Do you know how you should apologize to yourself?”
Tyelko’s frown deepened. He shook his head. Findo didn't blame him. He was just as confused. How did one apologize to oneself?
Maitimo, though, appeared a little smug.
“No worries, then. I will show you how.”
“What are we doing here, Timo?”
Tyelko asked, holding onto Nelyo's hand tightly as they walked towards somewhere in the forest behind Uncle Fëanáro's estate. Findo had never been here before, and he could understand why he rarely found his half-cousins in the public parks of Tirion. Who would go there, when they could play in such a magical place?
Maitimo stopped, and Findo barely held himself to not collide with his back. He took a step back and rounded him, listening to the trees sing their songs. He did not understand what they wished to share, but he found their voices melodical nonetheless.
“Can you call upon Ninquë?”
Findo frowned. Who was that?
Tyelko looked confused too, but for completely different reasons.
Did Tyelko knew who Ninquë was?
“Just do as I say. You will know soon enough.”
Tyelko still looked confused. He sighed, appearing defeated. He took a few steps away from them, breathed in, before letting out a loud caw.
Findo jumped despite himself, not having expected it at all. He stood silent for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to speak, a flash of white passed by him, flew over their heads before finally landing on Tyelko's outstretched arm.
Tyelko smiled and gently scratched the white crow’s head, greeting it like an old friend. The crow, too, cawed and then bowed in greeting.
“Well, she is here. What did you want to say?”
Tyelko finally tore his eye away from his friend to address his brother. Findo took a moment to remember their reason for being there at all.
He looked at Maitimo, and found him watching Tyelko with a raised eyebrow and a smile.
“Tyelko, do you think Ninquë isn't her parents' chick because she does not share their coloring?”
Tyelko gasped, offended. He threw a worried glance at Ninquë. She didn't seem to have understood Nelyo's words.
“Of course not! Why would you say that, Timo?! It's so rude!”
“Well, if you don't, why do you think you're not Atya's son like us when you clearly are?”
Tyelko's jaw was hanging open and Findo…
he was impressed. Maitimo knew his little brother so well that he also knew the only to get through his stubbornness sometimes was just to let him find the answers in his own tongue.
“Weren't you the one who convinced the rest of the murder to accept Ninquë between them? I remember you saying you told the leader how Ninquë was no different from them just because she was white. You told them to love her just the way she is because Eru had meant it for her to look like this. So why can't Eru have meant for you to look like this too? Why can't you accept that you are as much of a son of Fëanáro as the rest of us, even if you look different?”
Tyelko…he was crying again. But this time, silently. As if his mind had yet to process the information through his shock.
Findo…well, he was crying too. But just because he thought this moment was too beautiful, and it deserved some tears.
It was beautiful to think Eru had used Findo to convince Tyelko to love himself. It was beautiful that this crow who, much like Tyelko had helped her once, was the one helping him understand how perfect he was.
It was just, beautiful. Eru was beautiful.
Ninquë cawed, this time more quietly. Tyelko laughed, through his tears. Nelyo chuckled, and Findo smiled.
