They Went in Haste by Dawn Felagund

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Newborn

Prompt: heart, stroke, encounter, fire

Fëanor makes the first Silmaril.

(The last instadrabbling session, I tackled this same topic, earlier in the sequence but very different in tone: Fëa. I am considering that I should do a Feanor-makes-the-Silmarils every time I instadrabble! XD)


Each stroke of the hammer quavered soft as withheld breath, matching the rhythm of his blood. The silima came into slow shape. Beyond the window, the Trees gilded, then silvered—again, again, again—his ribs rose from wasting flesh like newformed lands, hunger and exhaustion and time unfelt.

The Light cowered, dim, against the ventricle of the stone, clear as the dreams of Ulmo before Moringotto sullied the waters.

When he finally spoke, his voice was roughened by disuse but redolent with a father’s love at first encounter with a new child. The heart of the stone flared to fire.


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