All Hues and Honeys by Dawn Felagund

Dust

Fëanor first reveals the Silmarils. A perfect drabble for Lockdown Instadrabbling, for the prompt: world, brighter, dust, untouchable

Varda mustered the dust of Eru's thought and, with it, touched the stars upon the dark--

This far north, on so cold a night, only his breath fogged those stars from view. The words of the ancient lay turned upon itself in Fëanáro's mind; his hands cradled something brighter. Was there a catch of breath, a mote of terror: What have I done?? If so, it was fleeting and subsumed by the ancient words.

Varda mustered--

Light no longer untouchable, confined, imprisoned. A gift to the world. Dust? Nay, crystal adamantine.

Fëanáro uncloaked the Silmarils to the scrutiny of stars.