Thirteen by Dawn Felagund

Tsunami

Nerdanel at the Darkening. Prompt: amber, space, shatter, comfort

I was in my workshop, the comfort of cool clay beneath my hands, when it happened.

I wasn’t thinking of Fëanáro.
The sundering of the Noldor troubled me not.
(In that moment, I did not even miss my children.)

The amber light of Laurelin, the liquid silver of Telperion, swallowed shadows lurking in the deepest corners of my workspace. This is hope, I realized: that light ever devours dark.

I held my hands to it; thought of Fëanáro, the Noldor, my sons.

As the tsunami of dying photons shattered upon me, terror (for them, for me) fell from all sides.