The Price of a Promise

The royal chambers were quiet as Arinyanénar sat with his parents, Anorien and Galadriel. The air was thick with anticipation. His journey back to the Avari realm had been filled with joy and hope, and he had shared the good news of his marriage to his parents. But now, there was something more he needed to say. He had never been good at hiding his feelings, and the burden of his promise to Maedhros weighed heavily on him. His hands fidgeted as he sat across from his parents, both of whom were watching him closely.

"I've told you about my travels," Arinyanénar began, his voice steady despite the storm that raged inside him. "I've met the race of men, the House of Bëor. They are... unlike any other people I've encountered. They are brave, proud, and their ways are strange to us, but I've learned much from them. I also courted Aistalë. You both know how much I care for her."

Anorien nodded, a smile touching his lips. "I've seen the way you look at her, my son. I know this marriage means everything to you."

Arinyanénar hesitated. There was a lump in his throat that refused to be swallowed. He had made a promise, and though it had been born from his love for Aistalë, it still haunted him. He glanced at Galadriel, who sat silent, her eyes piercing.

"It is not just that, though," he continued. "I... I made a promise to Maedhros. A promise that I didn't know how to tell you about." His voice faltered, but he pushed through, for he could not hide this any longer. "He asked me to swear that I would help the sons of Fëanor in their hunt for the Silmarils. That, if the time came, I would fight alongside them, no matter what it cost."

The room fell silent. Anorien's face softened, but there was an undeniable shadow of concern in his eyes. Galadriel, however, froze. The colour drained from her face, and her lips parted in shock.

"You what?" she hissed, her voice barely audible, but thick with disbelief. Her eyes bore into Arinyanénar with a force that almost physically pushed him back.

"I know, Mother," he said quickly, raising a hand as if to calm her, but his voice trembled. "I was blinded by love. Maedhros said he would accept me as part of his family, and I thought it was the only way I could prove myself to Aistalë, to all of them. I didn't think—"

"You didn't think?" Galadriel interrupted sharply, standing from her seat with such force that the chair clattered to the ground. "You didn't think? You have tied yourself to the most dangerous, most cursed of all families in Middle-earth, Arinyanénar!" She paced the room, her anger radiating from every movement. "And for what? For love?"

Her voice cracked, and Arinyanénar winced. The anger in his mother's eyes was something he had never seen before. She had always been composed, but now, she was trembling with fury.

"You've doomed yourself," Galadriel spat, her voice growing colder. "The sons of Fëanor are bound to destruction. Their hunger for the Silmarils will tear them apart, and now you've promised to join them. You've damned yourself, my son!"

Before he could react, she slapped him—hard—across the face. The sound of her hand meeting his skin echoed in the chamber. Arinyanénar's head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging. He was stunned, unable to speak for a moment. Galadriel had never struck him in anger, never once.

"Mother..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, but Galadriel was already moving towards the door, her face a mask of rage and heartbreak.

"You should never have gotten involved with her," she spat, her words sharp as daggers. "The House of Fëanor has nothing but misery to offer. You should have never set foot in their lands. I warned you, Arinyanénar, but you wouldn't listen." She turned to him one last time before storming out of the room. The door slammed behind her with a force that rattled the walls.

Arinyanénar stood frozen, his hand still at his cheek where his mother had struck him. He didn't feel the sting of the blow—only the weight of his mother's words. He had never imagined her reaction would be so fierce.

For a moment, there was only silence. Arinyanénar swallowed hard, trying to gather himself, but it was difficult. His heart was heavy with guilt, and his mind raced with conflicting emotions. He had done this for Aistalë, for their love, but he had never expected it to cost him so much.

Anorien, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke. His voice was softer now, tinged with regret. "I understand why you made that promise, my son. I do. Love is a powerful thing, and Aistalë... she is a fine elf, one whom I've come to respect. But, like your mother, I fear what your promise to Maedhros means."

Arinyanénar turned to his father, his heart aching. "I never meant to hurt anyone," he whispered. "I just wanted... to do the right thing. To prove myself."

Anorien's eyes softened as he walked closer, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "I know, Arinyanénar. I know. But this promise... it is no small thing. The sons of Fëanor are walking a path of fire, and you've tied yourself to them, whether you meant to or not."

Arinyanénar nodded slowly. "I love her, Father. And I want to be with her, no matter the cost. But I never imagined it would come to this. I never imagined how much this promise would weigh on me, how much it would hurt you, or Mother."

Anorien sighed deeply, his face troubled. "The path you've chosen may not be the one I would have chosen for you, but I will support you, as I always have. I only hope you know what you've given up. The sons of Fëanor... their obsession with the Silmarils is all-consuming. It will not end well."

"I understand," Arinyanénar said, his voice hollow. "But I can't go back now. The promise is made, and I must honor it. For Aistalë. For her."

Anorien gave him a long, hard look. "Then you must prepare yourself for what lies ahead. The Silmarils will be a curse to all who chase them, and even love cannot protect you from that. But know this: you are still my son. You are still our prince. And whatever happens, we will be here for you."

Arinyanénar's heart clenched, and he nodded slowly. He was not sure what the future held, but for the first time, he felt a deep sense of uncertainty. His love for Aistalë, his desire to honor his promise, and his loyalty to his family... all these things now pulled him in different directions. He had made his choice, but now he had to live with it.

As the hours passed in the silence that followed, Arinyanénar knew that the road ahead would be difficult. He would need to find a way to balance the promise he had made with the love he held for Aistalë and the loyalty he felt for his family. But for now, there was only the quiet, aching sense of the consequences of the choice he had made.

And in the end, he could only pray that his love for Aistalë would be enough to carry him through whatever darkness awaited them all.