Fic: Tributary - Chapter 4

Tributary
Fandom: The Silmarillion, Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away
Rating: PG13/T
Warnings: Mild child abuse/child endangerment, underage employment
Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon (pre-relationship), Fëanor/Nerdanel (background), other minor background relationships
Characters:Fingon, Maedhros, Círdan, Fingolfin, Anairë, Turgon, Aredhel, Fëanor, Caranthir, Maglor, Celegorm, Ambarussa, Nerdanel, Curufin, Curufin's Wife, Thranduil, Thranduil's Wife, Hildifons Took, Isengar Took, Rog (Tolkien), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Original Genderqueer Character(s)
Word Count: 34,139
Summary: Tributary: noun; a river or stream flowing into a larger river or lake.

Moving to another town can be difficult, especially when you're just a kid. Leaving everything you know behind - friends, classmates, teachers, the nice guy at the ice cream shop who sometimes snuck you an extra scoop - is scary, even if you know the place you're moving to.

For Findecáno, son of Ñolofinwë and Anairë, brother of Turucáno and Írissë, it's going to be even harder.

Dropped into a dangerous and treacherous world of spirits and magic, he doesn't know which way to turn, or even who he can trust, but he has to keep his feet under him in order to stay ahead of the great Sorcerer and save his family.

Findecáno turned, suddenly feeling a lot better about his situation. He noted that the décor up here was gaudy, heavily ornate and cluttered. He approached the over-elaborate set of doors, and rapped the strangely-shaped knocker.

“Huh. This one has manners, it seems. Bit scrawny, though, haven’t hit your first growth.” The voice made him jump – a smooth, pleasant male voice, with just a hint of something that screamed danger to it. It came from the knocker, but then, it came from everywhere. The doors opened, by themselves. All of them. There were apparently a lot. He stared down the corridor, and gulped. The voice seemed to get impatient. “Come closer, child. I need to get a good look at you.” He steeled his nerve, which apparently took too long, because the voice abruptly said, “I said closer,” and something invisible grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked. He was pulled through the maze of rooms, all with the same elaborate, overdone grandeur, all the doors slamming shut and locking behind him, until he was thrown head over heels into a room like a parlor or receiving room.( Read more... )