All Hues and Honeys by Dawn Felagund

| | |

No One Heard That

The histories withheld some details of Fëanor's muster of the Noldor. A perfect drabble for Jubilee instadrabbling, for three prompts rolled on the Teen Spirit Prompt Generator: voice cracks, escape, clueless parents. The first paragraph comes from The Silmarillion, "Of the Flight of the Noldor," and did not count toward the 100 words of the drabble.


But Fëanor laughed, and spoke not to the herald, but to the Noldor, saying: "So! Then will this valiant people send forth the heir of their King alone into banishment with his sons only, and return to their bondage? But if any will come with me, I say to them: Is sorrow foreboded to you? But in Aman we have seen it. In Aman we have come through bliss to woe. The other now we will try: through sorrow to find joy; or freedom, at the least."

His voice cracked on "least," reaching with all the force of a Telerin soprano to jab itself amid the unplumbed heights of Varda's stars. Manwë's herald flinched. Arafinwë simpered; Nolofinwë didn't even blink. Rúmil's pencil paused as he considered the use to all posterity if he included this in his Annals of Aman.

Macalaurë covered his laugh with a sneeze.

"Bless," said Nelyo.

"Freedom … from pollen," mumbled Curufinwë.

"At the least," nodded Tyelkormo.

Fëanáro, undaunted, plunged forward as though nothing had happened, nothing was wrong, which of course was the entire wrongness of the whole endeavor to begin with.


Table of Contents | Leave a Comment