In Dreams, To Whom I Never Have by wind rider

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Colours of a Dream

Title: In dreams, To Whom I Never Have: Colours of a Dream
Author: Eärillë

 

Number: I21
Challenges:
1. Colours: Purple
2. Emotions: Awe
3. Silmarillion vs Harry Potter Matches: Fëanor vs Ginny Weasley

 

Summary:
Sometimes the dream that comes true is more horrifying than the dream itself, and living the said dream is even worse. A seven-year-old Ginny Weasley experiences that first-hand. But perhaps, there will still be a silver-lining even in the worst situation?

 

Rating: G
Warnings: first draft

 

Characters: Maedhros, Maglor, Fëanor, Ginny Weasley
Genres: Crossover, Friendship, Mystery
Place: Tirion: outside of
Timeline: Year of Trees: Noontide of Valinor
Word Count (in MS Word): 1,220

 

Notes:
The author originally wanted to post this fic for SWG’s Birthday Challenge in 2010, but did not get it in time. With a few additions and tweaks, here it is again, presented anew. And the credit again goes to Dawn Felagund’s marvellous work Another Man’s Cage, of which the author borrowed many things for this (chaptered) story. It is all in third person limited point of view and past tense, though, unlike in AMC.
In this chapter (and the next ones), Maedhros (Maitimo, Russandol, Nelyo) is 48 years old, Maglor (Makalaurë or Káno) is 39 years old, Celegorm (Tyelkormo or Turko) is 14 years old, and Caranthir (Carnistir or Moryo) is 3 years old. In human standard, their ages are roughly comparable to (respectively) 16 ½, 15, 7 and 3 (or 2 ½) years old.

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In Dreams, To Whom I Never Have
Chapter 2: Colours of a Dream

 

Ginny regained awareness still resting against the man’s shoulder, held securely and cradled like a child much smaller than she was. It embarrassed her to no end, and yet she was inwardly pleased. Her father had not held her like this for quite a long time, being too busy with his job in the Ministry of Magic and his Muggle toys, and she had forgotten how it had felt. It was so comfortable…

 

The man did a sitting-down motion and she could not help but stir. Where had he brought her to? It felt slightly different from the large open field they had traversed before. For one, there was a lot of tree-shade here, like in the woods near her home.

 

She raised her head slightly and peeked over his shoulder. Spying red apples hanging from a low branch, she suspected that they were sitting in an orchard. It baffled her though. She had not glimpsed anything resembling even a clump of trees on their way to the weird mansion! How big was the man’s home then? The thought alone daunted her, but she did not dare raise any objection when the man put her down on the bench beside him. He left then, and she felt bereft like she had never before even when Bill – her eldest brother – had first gone to Hogwarts. It did not help that he did not return for a long time, during which she only dared look around, touching nothing and sitting nearly motionless on the garden bench.

 

At length though, she spied something that made her greatly curious. Breeze was stirring the leaves of the apple trees around her, and light filtered through the leaves and branches here and there along the rustling motion of the trees. But it was not the ordinary daylight that she had suspected. Instead, it was a rich gold colour that would make the sun pale in comparison. It made her want to touch it, to feel it, to seek it...

 

She jumped down from the bench as if in a trance, scampering along the path and looking up, always looking up to the gaps in the foliage. Was this why everything had looked so much more vibrant back then in the lawn? Because there was something that rivalled the sun here? Was it even possible?

 

And then, after much stumbling and flailing, she came suddenly upon a grassy clearing ringed by pear trees and purple-flowered bushes.

 

However briefly she had been in this strange place, she had taken for granted how green and nearly-translucent the grass-blades were. And now the ambient light also made the soft purple hue of the wide-petalled flowers so much richer…

 

She gazed long at the flowers, taking in and admiring their beauty, then laid herself on the grass and looked up towards the sky.

 

There was no sun there. Instead, a flickering light bathed the expanse with a bright, bold golden hue that seemed so… alive, for lack of a better word. Ginny watched every minute shift of the golden shades avidly, her mouth gaping. It was so beautiful! So other-worldly, yet somehow recogniseable and so lovely…

 

It topped off all the rich things she had seen so far.

 

She loved it.

 

But what was it?

 

She wanted to touch it, dance with it, hold it, be one with it…

 

As taken as she was with the view above, she was not aware of a shadow looming nearby. She only realised that she had company when a fingertip alit softly on her right shoulder, startling her. Sitting up and curling into a defensive position, she stared wide-eyed at the intruder of her peace.

 

Which turned out to be the man from earlier. He was gazing oddly at her, with the familiar sharpness but with more calculation involved. The emotion lurking in the depths of his bright grey eyes was more prominant too, tickling at her sense of curiosity mercilessly. What was he thinking about? Where had he been? Why so long? Why had he come back again? What would he do to her now?

 

He reached out a hand at her, palm up, as if in supplication, gift-giving… or an offer to come with him. She stared at the appendage with uncertainty and no small amount of apprehention. Where would he lead her to? What was his intention with her then? Would she be safe with him?

 

Her stomach growled with hunger. It decided it for her. Shily – and hoping that he would not betray her trust – she unclasped her right hand from her left one around her knees and lay it atop the man’s.

 

It was like a tightly-coreographed drama or a careful dance, the way he almost gingerly curled his fingers around hers and grasp her hand, rising up and pulling her with him. But they did not immediately walk away. Instead, he seemed to take his time scrutinising her – again – from head to toe, as if discovering something he had missed before and in – dared she hope? – hidden delight.

 

When he finally looked away, she peeked aside to the rest of the clearing, saying a silent good-bye. It was too lovely to leave so soon, with the lush grass and purple flowers and golden not-sun, but she did not dare defy the mysterious, scary man.

 

Her heart leapt when he dragged her to one of the bushes, which bore the most flowers. He picked one of the biggest purple flowers and slipped it amidst her tangled hair, all in a nonchalant manner, as if they had done this for countless times already.

 

Her breath caught in her throat, and her chest squeezed painfully. Dad…

 

They immediately left the clearing, thankfully. Ginny did not know how long she could fend back her tears, if they had staid longer. Her home-sickness had returned with a vengeance. But she also did not know if there would be others that would incite the tears anew once they left the orchard, as she knew absolutely nothing of this place and the people in it. Did the man have family? How would they react when – or if? – he presented her to them? Would he ever present her to them in the first place?

 

Her uncertainty was soothed when they once again crossed the large expanse of lawn towards the sprawling house.

 

Two horse-riders were crossing the field closest to the house in a leisurely pace, two people looking to be Bill’s age who bore rather close resemblance to the man whose hand was gripping her own tightly. (They seemed to be returning from a trip, judging from the bags and bundles they carried on the backs of their horses.) They seemed to notice the unlikely pair and zoned in on her; and their curious gaze, sensed even from afar, sharpened. Ginny wished she could shrink into herself and hide among the lush grass, or perhaps behind the man’s back. But the man waved them away, in the same pointed manner, and they obeyed.

 

Ginny and the man crossed the remaining distance from the house afterwards without any other incident. She felt strangely pleased about that, and how the man had handled who most likely were his relatives, if not his sons. She was more assured that he would protect her, if everything went figuratively downhill.