#future kidnapping

Author’s Note: So here it is a “couple of days” later lol. Overall I think I did an okay job at characterizing Manwë and the rest. I don’t think it's horrible but it could be better. I worked super hard on this so I hope it reads okay for everyone. And please let me know if I made any mistakes or if you have any tips. I’ll try to come back and fix them if I can.

Ps. Please remember this was a part of a larger work. I'm just dicing it into pieces. And I’ll be posting the second part as soon as I can. This story was supposed to have three-five parts. I don't know if I’m gonna post all five or leave it at three. And a little disclaimer here but I have never written for any of these characters before and I’ll admit that dialogue is my weakest skill. Anyway thank you for reading and I hope you have a very blessed day!

And Flora, thank you so so much for all the love and support you gave me! I really appreciate it.  

Little Dove

POV: Manwë

Manwë was ashamed of himself. Truly, was there no worse feeling in the world? Lord Irmo’s Maia had performed wonderfully in their duties. They had prepared Irmo’s Mansion in festive decor in record time and had managed to provide such scrumptious food for the feast tonight. A task he was sure had been near impossible with the sheer number of elves joining this evening, far more than expected. And here he sat with his fellow Vala at a night of Celebration feeling…unwell, to say the least. The burden he usually carried felt heavier than usual. He sat at the head of his table boneless in his chair and his temples pounding. His nerves were tingling with fire and he was so warm he thought he might turn to ash.

He had desperately hoped this evening would go differently.

Tonight they were to celebrate and bless Finwe’s newest grandchild. The elves were quite ecstatic about the Festivals arrangements even some of his own maia were quite pleased. The Halls of Irmo echoed the sounds of music from lutes to flutes to harps to bells and joyous laughter bounced off the walls. Colorful decorations had been hung and the ballroom floor had been polished with enough shine to mirror the people’s reflections. Chandeliers hung above emphasizing both the vaulted ceilings and the embroidered tapestries. Over high arches there were plants and flowers growing and they wrapped around pillars and over some of Lord Irmo’s statues. In between it all the Elves danced about and ate and drank by their tables and sang. Honestly, it was quite a sight.

Shifting in his seat he rested his elbow on the arm rest and placed his head in his hand. With the insistent pounding in his head he briefly closed his eyes to feel the smooth coolness of his robes upon his skin, almost wishing on Varda’s stars he hadn’t been needed for tonight’s attendance. Perhaps if he had done so he wouldn’t have to sit and listen to all the noise.

But no. He had his duties to perform and besides he’d kick himself if he hadn’t come. Somewhere amongst the merry making elves was a sweet little elleth who’d waited very patiently to meet with them. She’d undoubtedly been anxiously awaiting for her big day with bated breath. Heart filled to the brim with the utmost excitement, most likely annoying her parents in the meantime, and he had no desire to ruin the night for her.  Just the thought of it made his stomach churn with guilt.

However, his mind was occupied with bigger things. As much as he’d like his biggest concern to be the happiness of a young elf. He truly had far more important things to think about. Like young Prince Feanor and his strange behavior as of late. Or that of his brother’s sheer lack of, well, effort he should say.

It seemed everything was losing balance and crumbling in towards his feet. He was not sure what to do with the young Prince; in fact, Manwë would go as far as to say Feanor was paranoid. Though a part of him understood that Feanor had always been protective of his work and he had accomplished much in his time. Perhaps the young Prince was simply fixated on a new project again. It did make him wonder what exactly was going through the young elf’s mind when it came to moments like these. Perhaps he should consult Lord Aulë next he saw him.

His brother, Melkor, was not in attendance tonight. With Melkor’s recent release into Valinor he had thought the celebration would be a perfect chance for his brother to reintroduce himself to the Elven people and bolster his morale but alas Melkor had made other arrangements. Simply put Melkor had made no attempt in connecting with the elves or even acknowledging them. He knew Melkor felt terrible about what happened but further isolating himself didn’t help matters.

Manwë took a breath moving to pinch the bridge of his nose strands of his white hair falling in his face. Why both Feanor and Melkor had to be so stubborn instead of simply enjoying themselves would forever boggle his mind. At the mere thought his head ached and as the minutes drew on, it only got worse. He had over exerted himself and was now paying the price.

His lady wife had warned him, his precious lady was the only highlight of his evening thus far and he was forever grateful. He tilted his gaze and watched her through white lashes as she talked freely with Lady Nienna beside him. He adjusted the grip on his face and felt his rings bite into his skin.

Varda was simply breathtaking. She had worn some of her finest robes in honor of the celebration. They were the color of lavender and her new pretty silver circlet sat upon her brow. A large gem of diamond rested on her forehead, sparkling almost as brightly as the tiny dotting of stars in his lady’s raven hair. Simply breathtaking. Exquisite in the highest regard.

Unable to resist he very lightly let the back of his fingers graze her arm, aware of the public eye. Varda glanced at him and he smiled when she turned to face him. Lady Neinna being momentarily distracted with the arrival of her brother Irmo.

His love racked her eyes over him once whispering, “Darling, you look exhausted. How are you feeling?”  

He ignored her, simply taking his time to admire her form. “You look positively ravishing tonight. Have I told you?” She hummed, leaning in and fussing with the side of his robe. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. He could smell the oil she had used, the light floral hint and hear the jingle of her jewelry. He could feel the heat of her words by his ear as she spoke, “Yes, three times this evening, my love.”

“Only three?”

“Only three.”

“An oversight on my part, my dear, I’ll have to regale you with praises of your brilliance to make up for it.”

She laughed. “You’ll have to do so in the comfort of our home.” She sat back into her chair, her drink in hand. He watched as Lady Nienna pulled his wife's attention away from him with a smile. Though the sharp glance Varda sent his way told him that his avoidance in answering her earlier question would not last for long.

He averted his gaze from his wife, feeling his blood pulse and his stomach pinch. He rubbed his forehead and felt a slight dew of sweat. Maybe a minute or two away to compose himself would be best. Rid him of his mood. With a word to his wife Manwë excused himself discreetly slipping from the ballroom and entering Irmo’s blessedly quiet halls.

POV: Finrod

Finrod was silent as he watched the crowd, his blue eyes raking across the room. There were hundreds of elves here tonight. A wonderful turn out for him and his family but a misfortune in Y/n’s eyes. He was quite certain, however; that she'd look back at this moment in life and be grateful so many had come. For his part, he was thrilled to see so many elves had come to celebrate his sister’s special day and share in this moment.

He’d be the first to admit that, in retrospect, he could have planned for Y/n’s first public appearance far better than he did. And while that responsibility belonged to his Atar, and his Atar alone, Finrod felt particularly responsible. After all, as her eldest brother she looked more towards him for guidance and reassurance. And his sister was still a young elf, practically a babe, he felt that it was his job to guide her steps when he could and help her adjust to new things as time grew on.

Before tonight, Y/n hadn’t made any appearances or participated in any event. If the public saw her at all it was a glimpse of her hair and gown.

Naturally when she’d first heard of her party and the expected amount of party goers, she’d been reasonably frightened and had spent the last few months dreading the party. She’d tried to find every excuse under the Light of the Two Trees to not come. And he had tried to lessen her anxiety and subsequent panic by taking her out to the market and letting her explore on her own terms. Even if that consisted of her glaring at passerbyers and gripping onto his hand with all the strength a little elleth like her had.

Despite his best efforts and reminders about the importance of her Presentation to the Valar. Y/n had thrown a fit about attending with Amillë earlier and had told him right before passing the party’s threshold that she was scared to go and had asked him to stay with her.

As a result she’d been wanting his attention like no other tonight. Tugging on his robes and pulling his arm, holding his hand, hugging his leg, and mostly clinging onto him. It’d gotten to the point he almost tripped over her, she’d been so close! All of this while many noble houses and their representatives came to speak with her or more rather him. As he would redirect their attention elsewhere.

He understood she was nervous about being out with so many people. And he understood that she felt safer with him. However, her behavior was getting a little . . . much. Though some part of him felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to better prepare her for tonight. If he had she probably would have fully enjoyed her celebration instead of hiding behind him for the majority of it.

Finrod raised his arm, feeling his robes shift with him and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel the beginnings of a headache. This evening was dragging on far longer than he’d like.

“Finnie? . . . Finnie!? . . . Finniee!”

He felt an insistent tugging on his robes and held in a sigh. Dealing with a hyper ten year elfling at such a late hour was not on anyones to do list he was sure. He looked down at his sister and found her clutching tightly onto his robes in her pretty pink gown. Her eyes wide and doe like as she stared into his and he felt some of the tension flow from his shoulders.

“What is it?”

She beamed up at him and bounced on her toes.

“Can we get that pretty cake with the raspberries, please?”

He frowned, raspberry cake? He hadn’t seen that particular treat being severed this evening. Not an actual raspberry cake. A cake topped with raspberries, perhaps?

“What cake?”

“The really small, pretty one, over dere!” Y/n squirmed excitedly and pointed over the buffet table, “Over dere! See?” He followed her finger and found that there was indeed a dessert that had raspberries but it wasn’t a cake, it was a raspberry tart. A sweet tasty pastry made with an almond and raspberry filling. Topped with cream and raspberries. He had eaten it before, it was very tasty, full of flavor. And something a ten year elfing definitely didn’t need at this time of night.  

“How about we save one for you tomorrow, hm?”

“Tomorrow?! Why can’t I have it now? ‘Em hungry now! Pretty please Finnie, I promise to be good!” She whined. Her eyes swelled with water and she jutted out her bottom lip, pouting.

Finrod shook his head, chuckling, “Don’t fret, I'll get you something equally as nice.”

“You promise?” She sniffed.

He playfully rolled his eyes and leaned down to pinch her nose, coaxing a giggle from her. “Of course.”

Y/n vigorously nodded her head excited. “Okay! Can we dance after?”

“I’d be delighted too.” Taking Y/n’s hand he led her to the buffet table. It was decorated with a pink tablecloth and vibrant pink colored rose petals scattered underneath the small fruits and dinner appropriate dishes. The decorations for this evening had been up to Lord Irmo's maia to decide. But he remembered how Y/n had been approached by a maia who had asked her what color she favored best. He smiled remembering the encounter as Y/n happily looked through the options.

He watched his sister fondly as she babbled about the berries she wanted and which were best. Her hair had been loosely braided for the evening. And he knew how much she hated having her hair pinned. She made it a common practice to remind Amillë and every other elf within hearing distance how uncomfortable it was. How the pins always pulled her hair too tight and how silly it made her look. He wouldn’t be surprised if Amillë had been regaled with the usual speech earlier in the evening. With a reminiscent look in his eyes he placed his large hand on her head.

Y/n huffed tilting her head up to glare at him.

“Finnie, you're gonna ruin it!”

He smirked, “Oh, please nésa, I’m not ruining it.”

“Oh, come now, cousin. You know how the ladies are with their hair.”

Finrod grinned and turned to meet the voice of his cousin.

“Fingon!” He stepped forward and clasped Fingon’s shoulder. “It's been several months since I last saw you. How have you been? Staying out of trouble I hope?”

Fingon tossed his head back as he laughed, his roped gold braids bumping against his chest. “Ha! If only! How about you, hm?” He raised a dark brow. “Smooth sailing I hope?”

Finrod released a sigh, and let go of his cousin’s shoulder, “It is as you said, ‘if only,’ though it hasn’t been nearly as miserable as last year's . . . festivities, I should say.” Referencing a particularly nasty disagreement between two noble houses that had happened late last year. Both high ranking ellons who served in the royal court. Their bickering had created quite a scandal though no one really knew as to why or what had started it, only that it had something to do with their daughters and that it had been a private affair. In the end, it’d required the King's discretion in ending whatever it was and the King refused to speak of it. Though that didn’t stop the people from speculating nor the raging gossip that had filled the palace halls.  

Fingon nodded in acknowledgment casting his eyes downward as a playful grin crossed his face, “And it appears my littlest cousin is shy tonight?”

Finrod looked down to see the top of Y/n’s head as she grabbed onto his robes partially hiding behind his leg and a surprisingly good amount of berries in her fist. He was surprised she hadn’t taken the opportunity to steal that pastry she wanted.

“If you came around more often she’d be more familiar with you.” He meet Fingon’s eyes while placing a hand to the back of Y/n’s head again. “Nésa, why don’t you say hi, hm?”

“Hi.” She wiggled herself further behind his leg, cheeks blooming with color. Fingon beamed at her, “Hello, Y/n. How are you tonight?”

“Fine.” Y/n muttered and Finrod lightly bumped her side, “And, and how are you? Do you like the party?” She asked. Quickly shoving a few berries into her mouth.

Fingon made an exaggerated nod, “I do!” Then as if he had a secret to share he leaned in close and covered the side of his mouth. “I especially enjoyed the candied fruits they served tonight.” To prove this he pulled a candied strawberry from, seemingly, his robe’s pocket and happily popped the polished fruit into his mouth.

Y/n let out a disbelieving gasp, “What?!”  She turned to him saying, “Finnie! Why does he get to have his treats and I don’t? That isn’t fair!”

Fingon reeled back in mock horror, “What!? Finrod, is that true? You're keeping her from her cake?”

Finrod glared at him while mildly wondering how many other treats his cousin had up his sleeves, “No, I am not. Now just isn’t the appropriate time for cake. She's had enough sugar for tonight.” He crossed his arms and fought a scowl from his face. He’s dealt with his energetic sister all evening and he wasn’t keen on making the inevitable sugar crash any worse than it had to be. “And she wants a pastry not a cake.”

Fingon ignored him and gave another dramatic gasp, “Not on your Begetting Day! Indeed this isn’t fair!”

He rolled his eyes, “Not that I need to remind you but it is also her Presentation to the Valar. Fetching her more sugar would not be a good idea. She’ll feel sick if she consumes anymore. Not to mention that once the sugar rush leaves I’ll have to deal with a very cranky and exhausted elleth.”

“That's all the more reason to let her have it!” Fingon waved his hand, “Besides she’ll be presented to the Valar soon enough. Why not let her have the treat? She can go to bed right after the Presentation as everyone else will be dancing and-” He paused carefully selecting his next words. “And they’ll be getting further into their drink. It’ll not be a party suited for one so young.”

Then Fingon confidently moved forward and wrapped an arm round around his shoulders. “And I am confident that the other little ones that’d been scattered about will also be leaving for their beds as well.”

Finrod only raised a brow and gave Fingon a warning look. Though Fingon continued to ignore him and instead turned to Y/n who’d been oddly quiet, “You know Y/n, why don’t the two of us go get that pastry you wanted, hm? After all, it is your special day. You should have what you want!”

Fingon separated himself from him and took Y/n’s hand into his as Y/n squealed in excitement.

Finrod sighed, leveling Fingon with a disapproving glare though he made no move to stop him. His cousin smirked at him and wiggled his brows as he and Y/n left to travel further down the buffet table.

Finrod felt his mouth twitch as he fought a smile, happy to see the two spending time together, but instead he rolled his eyes. Watching Y/n as she giggled and hopped alongside her, undoubtedly, new favorite cousin. Thankfully the pair didn’t have to stray far and he could easily keep an eye on her and listen to their conversation with ease.

“My Prince.” Finrod blinked.

Behind him stood Ramtôr, a member of the Royal Guard and a long time friend. He was dressed in golden armor and he held a staff in his hand and a sword hung at his waist. His normally loose hair had been pulled back and he wore a bright smile.

Finrod felt a flood of elation race through him.“Ramtôr!” He beamed. In his excitement he had not realized that he had called Fingon’s attention to him and his cousin watched the newcomer with great interest.

Ramtôr bowed his head, “My Prince, I do not mean to intrude but I've been sent to inform you that his Highness, King Olwë has arrived and is waiting in the foyer.”

And with that Finrod felt his heart leap into his throat.

Masterlist

Little Dove: Prologue If the link doesn’t work please let me know!