Wow, this is some thought-provoking stuff. As always, you manage to bring such life and detail to those rather abstract ideas of the Great Journey and the building of Tirion that it feels quite real, in spite of such fairy-tale elements as floating islands and Treelight. The idea that Míriel might have been opposed to the journey but followed Finwë for the sake of love is not something I've considered before, but it feels very believable (and happens often enough in the real world, doesn't it!). You bring her inner life across very colourfully (pun fully intended) and movingly. I feel somewhat sorry for her! Especially with the knowledge of what is going to happen in her future. But I am glad that she is not wholly passive, but outspoken and quite essential for Finwë to be a succesful king, pointing out flaws and suggesting improvements to his plans, and keeping the memory of Cuiviénen alive. (Which she may continue to do even after death? Sort of?) I loved your Uinen, too. Her thoughts about Manwë's lack of understanding for "evil" (or the violence that grows out of hunger, anyway) and the rules set up by the Valar are quite astute.
But you also managed to make Finwë (mostly) likeable, despite his failure to understand her troubles and his absolute faith in what the Valar tell him; his love and trust for Míriel get across, and that is also important in a story that focuses a lot on Míriel's lack of happiness that one might otherwise easily blame completely on Finwë (and, of course, those pesky Valar).
In conclusion, you've pulled off yet another fantastic tale about the not-so-bright sides of the Blessed Realm without resorting to simple blacks and whites. I'm so glad you found the time to write it!

'we used to eat from carved wooden bowls'. great rags to riches thing.

and also the cats-cradle of opposites, light/dark, cat/dog (oh, he's such a puppy, 'crowing' about his work, eager to please etc) (and she is practically purring, and definitely has her tail curled round her feet) boy/girl king/queen forwards-looking/traditional etc great stuff ! 

shame about the sunburn (Treeburn ?). i liked the sinister sea-folk too, very edgy.

you paint moving pictures, more like Vairë's tapestries than Miriel's ! i can really see them, her rubbing the bridge of her nose, or them talking excitedly and forgetting to eat, or the lads sitting on the beach carving the world up between them, heheheh. great stuff. poor Miriel, poor Fëanor (oh no, Silmarillion tears...) 

Finwe and Miriel: why cultures need no-fault divorce.

My headaches were fierce here. Unlike the others, I had not adapted: to the vast and empty spaces, to the arching starless sky, to the Light.

Even the dust here did not soften and dull things but flashed and sparked, an excess upon excess of Light.

What is this thing? Marriage? Sovereignty?

And now you've made me hate Elf-heaven. Thanks Obama!

In all seriousness, this is such a wonderful piece. Instead of Miriel being defined primarily by a single cataclysm of pregnancy and exhuastion, she rep's for the huge cultureal shift that the Elves are going through.

Valinor is the place of bright lights, hierarchy, law, fixed masculine/feminine roles, authority/the Valar, cities, even as the ancient Cuiviénen era of Middle-earth is forest, starlight, and a world before fixed gender roles, religion, and law. One is Finwe, the other Miriel.

And she goes on to be associated with female god-figures: Uinen/the sea, Vaire/weaving.

That is a fascinating reading!

The land of everlasting happiness turned into a marble trap? And the compromise and adapting cost ultimately cost Miriel her life, because to stay true to herself, she chose to die. Perhaps her love for Finwe wasn't enough...

I think Miriel here is the epitome of all who doubted -- they had to leave too much behind, and the future seemed like a cage to her, the cage fashioned by those who wanted everyone else to follow their rule. And the most symbolic scene for that is (forgive my Sindarin heart) when she observed Elwe go back to the woods, never to return.

Well, who'd have known? Her son was rebellious enough to destroy that trap, that cage, but at what cost...

This is an outstanding piece. I read it yesterday, and I don't think I've told you everything I'd like here, but my mind doesn't cooperate because it's still rather dazed from the experience (in a good way!). Thank you so much!

I was blown away by this.  When I imagined what the ideal story for this collection should be to do justice to the Silm in all possible ways, this is the type of story I envisioned (but was too worn out to do myself).  

Such lovely descriptions of Aman and wonderful use of color is only part of it.  Miriel's character is so beautifully written though...she's so real here and completely sympathetic.

There were so many parts I loved that I would have to quote the whole thing, but my favorites were probably the descriptions of the sea and the people therein.

While I love heresy (and know you do too) if there is any in this story it's so gentle as to be almost unnoticeable.  It's hard for me to not insult the Valar even unintentionally - I remember as soon as I read some of Claudio's work from ten or so years ago I immediately glommed onto his concept of the Valar (and Vanyar) as objects of derision.  But sometimes I just love to read a beautiful story about them which doesn't insult them in any way at all.

Congrats, Dawn.  You've written something so, so special here.

Quintessential Dawn! It is silmultaneously psychological and yet so vivid and viseral. I wanted to reach for heavy-duty prescription sunglasses when reading about her reaction to the light and the headaches! (I get a lot of eyestrain headaches myself.) All I have are dollar-store knockoffs made in China. I always totally relate on the most mundane levels to points in your stories.

Actually, those are what make your stories so transcendent--the small details well told are so much better at bringing your reader to sense of emotional intelligence about the characters and empathy with them than oceans of musings about how a character feels and philosophical yammering and meandering and smug, sly hints (which despite studying English lit, I almost also miss! Who wants to be lectured in such an ethereal, sneaky kind of way in a story? I can count on you to never do that! But does not mean your fiction is not challenging.)

I love Finwe here. He is good, big-hearted, and maybe blustering at times, so aglow with his own enthusiasm and optimism. It always feels to me like he was very successful at saving and leading his people for a long, long time using exactly those skills. We should not harshly judge people for doing the best that they can, even when it proves to be not enough. How could he have put himself in her shoes? He trusts her to understand him and usually agree or explicitly argue, but instead she can't always read him either. He over-estimates her sense of confidence, confusing her keen intelligence with certainty. (There is a extrovert/introvert thing going on here--but it's more complicated than that.) He's seen her argue her case and win, how is he supposed to know that she harbors unspoken doubts and a profound discomfort that she is unwilling to reveal?

Should he have blown-off the Valar and let most of them be picked off one-by-one in the shadows of Middle-earth under starlight? Probably not. But there are no hard rights or wrongs here, only shades of gray. Poor Miriel--born perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or exactly the right time--but that's another story and does not necessarily dovetail with yours.

All of the foreshadowing of Feanor and her eventual terminal fatigue is clear and yet lightly rendered--no beating the reader over the head with a club.

Nothing about the story reads like you finished in a rush. It's very smooth.

Another keeper! Thanks and congrats! I'm jealous (again!).

I cannot for the life of me understand how I did not leave a review when I first read this. It's such a gorgeous terrible story of finding yourself in a place and situation that is wholly foreign and mostly unpleasant to you, and not having any way of making things better, because, try as they might, no one really understands what is happening to you.

I love Uinen - I want to paint this dangerous, wise, fey woman. She tries to warn Miriel, but also knows that it is inevetable. I enjoyed how cleanly she sliced through the rules and regulations of the Valar. And I was also really struck by the fact that Finwë was unable to explain why they should so suddenly change their entire way of life and adapt to customs that were not theirs. (not to mention how I despised the Valar - like colonialists coming to a land and telling everyone they are living the Wrong Way! urgh.)

I'm glad they had Miriel to remember the old times for them. Though I'm sad for her that her love led to her such a place.

Such massive cultural changes--from Cuivienen to the long journey to Valinor itself and all done by the same people rather than successive generations. And then the radical change of physical environment as well.

I'm not sure whether Miriel's headaches are technically migraines, but the way they are described they hit her (and us) with the intensity of a migraine and the visual distortion that sometimes accompanies migraines.

With all that, she still retains her competence and sharpness, even as she is (in that last dream/metaphor) she is losing her grip.

Oh, Míriel… I just want to embrace her. Her pain and dazzlement at Valinor's brightness in contrast to Endórë and the difference in lifestyles is heartrending. (And that apart from me being light sensitive myself, so I doubly feel for her.)