Taking Readings II by Himring

Darkest Time

The Vanyar experience the darkness after Melkor's attack on the Trees.

(Ingwion; Elemmire)

Double drabble (2 x 100 words in MS Word).

Teens for some angst.

Read Darkest Time

Sparks from Nahar’s hooves flew up, slicing through dense black fog. Ingwion followed them with his eyes. The proud, the high-hearted, the brave among the Vanyar had clung together like frightened children as the darkness fell on them, all their senses numbed by the sudden attack, except that of touch.  Now Ingwion sighed and, easing his death grip on his father’s hand, felt him stir.

‘Light!’ said Ingwe.

‘Light!’ Ingwion took up his call and heard it repeated by one voice after another.

‘Light!’ cried the Vanyar.

And all along the streets of Valmar went that cry: ‘Light! More light!’

Elemmire stumbled about his house, fumbling for his tinderbox, for left-over candles that had only ever served as decoration. One by one he lit them, filling candlesticks and chandeliers, sticking lit candle-stumps in saucers, until there were small flickering flames all around, on every windowsill, warding off the encroaching dark.

Blessed momentary relief—but another, terrible thought struck him: Who knew how long this unnatural dark might last? He was wasting candles!

It was the hardest thing he had ever done. One by one he killed all those little flames again, except one—that he cupped reverently in trembling hands.

---

Chapter End Notes

In Himring 'verse, Elemmire, the author of the lament for the Two Trees, is male.

For a prompt: Decoration - Candle/Light.
Posted to the Tolkien Weekly community on LiveJournal on 1 January 2017.

But There Was Tea

Celebrian's first encounter with Este in Lorien.

Written as a gift for FandomStocking 2016 for DeCarabas, who had requested a story about Este.

Rating: Teens, for references to what canonically happened to Celebrian.

Read But There Was Tea

'The pain came between me and everything', said Celebrian. 'I knew I was loved but could not feel it. I could not reach out to those who loved me. I was left alone in the dark.'

Este nodded.

Celebrian had been afraid of going to Lorien. She had feared Irmo or Este might do something Valarin--major and incomprehensible--that removed all the pain and fear as simply and quickly as a wizard waving a staff and muttering a spell. The idea should have been appealing, but she could not imagine how she would recognize herself afterwards.

She had shared her fear with her uncle and he had promised to come with her and watch over her as long as she needed him to. He had made good on his promise, too. He was sitting behind her, by the window, silent, discreet and observant as a hawk.

But Este, so far, was not intimidating or had made herself not to be so, for Celebrian's sake. The elegant, but simple grey dress, the long single string of pearls, the room that was furnished almost like a private parlour in Tirion--it could almost have been a select tea party. Not quite, of course.

But there was tea, in a black iron teapot. Este poured a cup and handed it to Celebrian. Celebrian accepted the cup and saucer, bowing her head, inhaling the scent and wondering what kind of tea it was and what to say next. She could not identify the scent, but it smelt of home. Suddenly, she was very homesick. That should have felt bad, but it didn't. Missing Imladris so violently, so purely, came as a kind of relief.

'We'll talk about what happened to you again, later,' said Este. 'Tell me about yourself, about the ones who love you.'

'Yes,' agreed Celebrian. 'Yes. Elrond...'

---

Chapter End Notes

The uncle referred to is Finrod Felagund, Galadriel's brother, who has a special relationship with Celebrian in Himring 'verse, as is explained in my story "Taking the Bruise".

The resemblance between Celebrian's first sentences and what Frodo says to Sam in Mordor (Return of the King, chapter: Mount Doom) is intentional.

Other of my stories featuring Celebrian:

Forward and Back

http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1497&chapter=18

Taking the Bruise

http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=1570&chapter=7

In Taur-nu-fuin

Before Mirkwood, there was another great forest that fell under nightshade and Sauron himself, who was in those days but the servant of the Black Foe in the North, invaded it with fire and darkness and corrupted it. Treebeard knew it, before its fall, and sings with regret of the pine trees of Dorthonion. It was here that Beleg, who had once wandered freely in all the forests of the land, found Gwindor, who had only just escaped from thralldom in the Iron Hells of Angband, and, aiding him, persuaded him to turn around, in an attempt to rescue another man from the threat of the same thralldom.
Here is a conversation between them.

Written for the B2MeM 2017 prompt: “It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.” Stephen King
I was originally aiming to follow the spirit of the prompt quite straightforwardly, but I ended up giving it a bit of a twist.

Rating: PG (Teens) for references to darker canon background

Read In Taur-nu-fuin

'I'm glad you are with me, Gwindor', said Beleg. 'I used to know these woods well long before they fell under deadly nightshade. It is sad too see them now.'

He spoke truth, from the heart--seeing the the land so changed was like seeing the face of a friend, disfigured, after long separation--was indeed as disturbing as seeing Gwindor's own face utterly changed by his imprisonment in Angband. But nevertheless his words were chosen deliberately, also, for he hoped that Gwindor's resolve would be strengthened if he felt more clearly that he was lending support as well as being given it.

'I, too, used to know the highlands well, if perhaps not so well as you,' said Gwindor, lifting his head where he sat drooping with exhaustion.  'In the days of the long peace, I was often sent to Dorthonion. I remember the resinous scent of tall pine trees and the water of the tarns shimmering under the open sky. I even spent a winter up here once--days of snow and whiteness and a harsh, clean wind sweeping among the branches...'

Briefly, his memory seemed to have carried him away. But then he looked around, at their present surroundings, and grief and fear settled back into the lines of his face.

'Thinking of all that whiteness does make it seem darker,' said Beleg, sympathetically. 'But the oldest trees still remember those winters, I feel it. Only, the memory has retreated deep inside...'

And indeed he felt that although outwardly  the woods seemed to have utterly succumbed to the onslaught of the enemy,  trees black and grim, roots tangled and groping like claws, the land had not quite given up the desperate struggle against Sauron even now, although its last defender had long fled.

'The memory of whiteness may make it seem darker,' said Gwindor. 'But, Beleg, even night in the forest of deadly nightshade seems very bright, compared to the darkness in the depths of Angband. I know I seem much changed to you and you perceive the shadow of fear in me, but I am not as afraid, now, here, as you think. I was dying under nightshade, when you found and aided me, but--to me, it seemed I was dying happy, having escaped into the light.'

---

Chapter End Notes

Taur-nu-fuin (an Elvish name also given to Mirkwood) is translated as "Forest under Nightshade". The forest also has the Elvish name Delduwath, which is translated as "Deadly Nightshade". These are Tolkien's own translations of the names, although in the glossary to the published Silmarillion text, Christopher Tolkien has rendered them as "Forest under Night" and "Horror of Night-Shadow", which is apparently more literal (and avoids association with the name of the plant).

Some of the description of Dorthonion and Taur-nu-fuin in the text above draws on Tolkien's own words.

Last Light and First

Vana the Ever-Young learns from a child.
A vignette set during the events surrounding the Creation of the Sun and Moon.

Gen (no warnings)

This ficlet was inspired by a lovely artwork created by Mithrial for B2MeM 2017, linked with her permission: "Again Yavanna Sang and Nienna Wept".

The Creation of the Sun and the Moon also featured among this year's B2MeM prompts:
"The gods were gathered on guarded heights, of doom and death deep they pondered. Sun they rekindled, and silver Moon they set to sail on seas of stars." JRR Tolkien, Völsungakvida en Nÿja

Read Last Light and First

Vana sat and wept until she felt she had out-wept Nienna, almost. Above her bowed head, stark and black, loomed the branches of the Trees--her sister's work that would never grow again. Vana had had such high hopes--but in the end, all their efforts had yielded but one more fruit, one more flower. And what was one fruit, one flower against a whole living, growing tree?

Dimly, through her sobs, she heard a shout, a clap of hands. Was that--but how could it be--the sound of applause?! She lifted her head, almost in outrage, and peered through tears and gloom, seeking the source of the sound. And at the edge of the crowd that hovered at a respectful distance, she caught movement, a voice--a small child, a toddler almost, among the Vanyar, jumping up and down as if for joy while her mother tried to shush her.

Vana stood, shook her tears from her face--they fell about her like rain--and approached the mother and her child.

She cut through the mother's hasty apologies and said: 'No, let her speak!'

Crouching down low and putting her hand on the child's shoulder, she asked: 'Little girl, why do you shout? What do you see?'

And the child, nothing shy, although she was being addressed by a Valie, answered: 'Lights! The pretty, pretty lights! Look! Oh, look! I've never seen anything like them!'

And Vana, still crouching and holding the girl by the shoulder, turned around and looked up and up, trying to see what the little girl did, from the same angle as the little girl saw it.

And she saw, shining on the bare branches: the last fruit of Laurelin, the last flower of Telperion, silver and gold. And seeing them so, against the darkness of the sky above, she recognized that they were things of beauty in their own right, not pitiful remnants. The little Vanya, who was young enough to have been born during the Darkening, had seen that and so Vana now saw it, too.

The Valie rose up and bowed to the little girl and said: 'Thank you for showing them to me.' And with that word, at once all the birds round about Ezellohar--who had long been silent--began to sing again.

---

Chapter End Notes

In HoME, Vana is much involved in the tale of the creation of the Sun and Moon.
In the Silmarillion, no role is explicitly assigned to her, but it does not follow she was not involved and certainly not that she had no interest.

Three Mariners

The three mariners that accompanied Earendil and Elwing on their voyage to Valinor were ordered by him to stay behind on Vingilot and are bewildered by subsequent events.

General Audiences.

An older plot bunny originally from the Waiting challenge at LOTR community), which was finally written taking up a Legendarium Ladies April prompt suggesting that Falathar and/or Erellont could have been women. Apparently, in these two names the second element is not etymologically analyzable (says Tolkien Gateway) so that, unlike with Aerandir, the gender is not evident from the name. I have made Erellont be female. (Falathar's gender isn't specified and, although that wasn't deliberate, I don't feel I want to specify it independently either, at present.)
Also for the Tolkien Weekly Taking to the Water challenge (prompts: boat, craft, ship, raft, log, adrift).

Read Three Mariners

They sat in the boat, shaken, clutching its sides, for Eonwe had plucked them from the deck of Vingilot like ripe plums out of a tree, without answering any questions, and set them into a boat as a boy might set his toys on a craft made of folded paper, launching it onto a pond. And now the three experienced mariners were become mere luggage as wind and current drove the boat irresistibly eastward, away from the shore of Valinor.

At last Erellont spoke--she was the oldest of the three and had been with Earendil in all his voyages:

Far have I followed Earendil over the deep, as he sailed his ship through the Shadowy Seas where the waves sigh over rocks shrouded in mist. The storms of Osse and the sea's tumult harried us from north to south and back again. We set foot upon untrodden isles, where the sun burns hot as a glede; we barely escaped the crushing embrace of pack ice. And stranger sights still have we seen together, survived much danger and horrors unguessed. He bid us stay himself, awaiting the outcome, but it comes hard now that I can follow him no farther.

Falathar responded: What shall we report to those who await--if any remain to await our tidings? Who was alive after the fall of Sirion? May not Morgoth have swept in to kill who was left on land? Perhaps, even now, the last of elves and men eke out their lives on ships and rafts... And we have no news of any outcome to give them, for the Maia answered no questions! Can we not turn this boat around, demand to be given a message?

Erellont answered: We are adrift on this current, no more able to navigate than logs.

 

Hush, said Aerandir, look. He was kneeling in the stern of the boat, gazing back toward the shore. The others looked up, as he bade, and, stunned, breathless, saw high in the west, rising slowly above their heads, the ship they had sailed in for so long. But she was utterly transformed so that they barely recognized the Vingilot they had known, those white timbers that had once been hewn from the familiar woods of Nimbrethil.

Aiya Vingilot, said Aerandir reverently.

Aiya Earendil, sighed Erellont.

Aiya Gil-estel, elenion ancalima, cried Falathar. Now indeed we have a message to bear.

---

Chapter End Notes

I wrote this as quadrabble, using an online word count tool (https://wordcounttools.com/), which claimed this was 4 x 100 words.

Hearing the Music

At Cuivienen, the first Eldar hear the echo of the Music of the Ainur in the waters.

Ficlet for the sub-compilation "Subcreation" for Silm40.

General - no warnings.

Read Hearing the Music

It is said by the Eldar that in water there lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance that is in this Earth.

‘Listen, oh listen!’ cried Enelye.
‘The sound of flowing water?’ asked Tatie.
‘It is a world,’ mused Enel.
‘But is it this world?’ asked Iminye.
‘Or another one?’ asked Imin.
‘Can we make it?’ asked Tata.

The Second Dawn in Middle-earth

Tolkien describes the first rising of the Sun, Himring imagined his elves waiting for it to rise again.

Characters: Turgon, Idril

Rating: General

Read The Second Dawn in Middle-earth

Turgon opened his eyes. As always he looked immediately for his daughter and caught sight of Idril's hair, gleaming pale in the dark that was lit only by a star or two. She was sitting up. The furs he had wrapped her in had slipped down to her shoulders.

"Go back to sleep, my dear!" he coaxed her. "You need rest!"

"I want to see whether she comes back," said Idril. "The Fiery One", she explained, tilting her head skyward.

Turgon understood.

"The Silver Wanderer returned," he said, reassuringly. "Eight times he has passed! Surely she will return as well."

 

Idril's chin was firmly set. "I'm waiting for her."

"Then I will wait with you," promised Turgon. He held out his arms and Idril crept into them. He settled her against his chest and tucked the furs back around her.

They waited together, unsure even whether to gaze east or west.

"Look," said Idril suddenly.

"I see it," said Turgon and only then did he realize how relieved he was.

They watched the seam of light on the horizon. Brighter it grew and brighter still, unlike the Moon.

"Yes," cried Idril, clutching her father's arm, "it is! There she is!"

---

Chapter End Notes

Double drabble written for the prompt "dawn" at Tolkien Weekly on Livejournal.

According to Tolkien, the moon had passed seven times before the first rising of the sun and one more makes eight.
Both the Sun and the Moon are said to have first risen in the West.
The names used by Turgon and Idril are roughly based on the translations of later Elvish "Anar" for the Sun and "Rána" for the Moon.

An Honourable Leader

Finarfin has assembled an army from the remnant of his people left in Valinor and led it to Middle-earth to help defeat Morgoth, who has so killed many of his family and his people.
On his arrival in Middle-earth, he encounters Gil-galad, his great-nephew, for the first time.

Rating: Teens. Warning for references to canon-typical violence.

Read An Honourable Leader

"I've come to save you", announced Finarfin, trying to appear confident.

It had taken so many negotiations to get him to Beleriand. He had had to convince his own people. Then he had to ask the Valar for leave, and then he had to persuade the Teleri to let Noldor set foot on their ships.

When he finally arrived with his army, nobody knew the whereabouts of his daughter. The only one Finarfin had managed to locate was his great-nephew on Balar. To his bewildered eyes, Gil-galad did not look very Noldorin.

"Thank you", said Gil-galad politely, a little stunned.

 

"Well, I must be going now," said Finarfin.

They had won. It had not been as he had imagined it, despite Valarin approval: fifty years of horror, destruction and far too much death, both among those he had led here and those he had come to save.

He had tried to keep them alive, fed, and talking to each other, everyone who was meant to be on their side, fighting the same enemy. As it turned out, his great-nephew had been right to be sceptical.

But Gil-galad surprised him, embracing him suddenly on the jetty. "Thank you, Uncle," he said.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for the "Honour a Warrior" challenge at LOTR Community Challenges (on LiveJournal).
The individual prompt given me was: “It is so much easier to honour the leaders who are honourable,” by Gift Gugu Mona

Technically, the War of Wrath apparently lasted less than fifty years, but more than forty.
Bear with me, please, this ficlet is fixed-length and "fifty" seemed more concise.
Also, Finarfin is too weary to bother with exact numbers!

Under her Feet

A short exchange of letters beween Tuor and Idril during their courtship.

A bit of flirting and banter alluding to Idril's nickname.
Could be read as mildly kinky, if you really want to.

Rating: Teens

Read Under her Feet

Dear Idril,

What a wonderful day yesterday was, as indeed any day I am permitted to see you! I confess I am haunted by the flash of your white feet among the grass in the sunshine.

I am yours to walk all over with those feet, whenever you like, Silverfoot!

Tuor

 

 

 

Dear Tuor,

I hate to tell you but you are not the first to make that suggestion. Generally, I much prefer to walk around people rather than all over them. You, however, are a special case and, yes, I am seriously considering making an exception for you...

Idril Celebrindal

---

Chapter End Notes

"Celebrindal" means "Silverfoot" .
She is said to have been called that because she liked to go barefoot.

This was written for a fixed-length drabble challenge (Tolkien Weekly on Live Journal, Body Parts series) and the specific prompt was, of course, "foot".

Some dwelt age-long in the Vale of the Great River

Denethor makes the decision to lead his people west into Beleriand to join up with Thingol again.

Rating: Teens, for reference to character death.

B2MeM 2018 prompt: ...but the water before them was dark, with only a few curling wisps like steam among the reeds by the bank. (Fellowship of the Ring, “A Conspiracy Unmasked”).
Tolkien100 prompt: The Great River.
What made me connect these two prompts was Oshun's bio of Lenwe, which was recently posted to the Archive, for March's newsletter, and the questions she raises in it.

Read Some dwelt age-long in the Vale of the Great River

The water of the Great River was dark. Wisps curled up like steam among the reeds by the bank where Denethor crouched, listening for sounds of attack. He had argued with his father ever since rumour of Thingol’s kingdom had reached them. Denethor wished to go and see; Lenwe would have none of it. Yet now that his father lay slain by one of the fell beasts from the North, Denethor found himself loath to leave the Anduin. But his decision was made: he would gather his people and lead them west, to what safety he could find for them.

---

Chapter End Notes

100 words in Word.

The title is adapted from a quotation from HoME (The War of the Jewels, Quendi and Eldar), which is cited in Oshun's bio.

Divisi

Amras at Losgar.
I don't follow the Shibboleth version of the story where one of the twins accidentally gets burned alive with the ships by his father, but...

Rating: Teens

The title is taken from a B2MeM prompt, a musical term:
Divisi: Divided (i.e. in a part in which several musicians normally play exactly the same notes they are instead to split the playing of the written simultaneous notes among themselves).

For further prompts, see end notes.

Read Divisi

Amras stood on the shore, gazing back across the wide water they had crossed. Around him, he heard anxious muttering. Although they had succeeded in reaching Middle-earth, there was little sense of achievement. He should take responsibility, say something encouraging…

Instead, he thought of his mother. But it was too late for that. He should have thought of her before he swore the Oath, should have stopped to think. Now he was thinking of her when he should concentrate on what was going on under his nose. His father, he thought, could tell, had detected the flaw in his loyalties.

 

‘I wish I were back in Araman,’ a voice whispered behind him in the darkness.

‘In Araman?’ another answered. ‘I wish I were back in Tirion, dark or no.’

‘You can wish,’ a third replied.

And a fourth: ‘Have you forgotten why we are here?’

No, thought Amras, they must not fall apart now, in enemy territory!

He was about to speak, to remind them of his presence, at least, demonstrate some kind of leadership, when towards the south, where his brothers must be, he heard raised voices. His father called out. And, suddenly, in the dark there was fire.

 

When the flames had died down and the shouting, Amras stood before Feanor and looked into his eyes.

So maybe I wished I could take one of those ships, he thought, and sail them not back to Araman, but all the way to Alqualonde, ask for forgiveness, return to Tirion. I would not have done it. I am bound, to my word and to you.

But not all are bound. I have no doubt that, when you cried Let the ships burn, you knew where each of your sons was. But had you counted the rest?

His father looked away.

---

Chapter End Notes

For Ambarussa Day of Feanorian Week.
- And for the following B2MeM 2018 prompts: Initial prompts: no. 8. Then I thought in my heart that we drew near to the Sea; for wide was the water in the darkness, and sea-birds innumerable cried on its shores. (Return of the King, “The Last Debate”); no. 15. Create a fanwork where a character crosses a river or the ocean. Daily prompt: March 18: Musical term: Divisi: Divided (i.e. in a part in which several musicians normally play exactly the same notes they are instead to split the playing of the written simultaneous notes among themselves).
- And also a fill for the six prompts of the Vocalizations Challenge at Tolkien Weekly: mutter, call, shout; whisper, speak, cry.
3 x 100 words on MS Word.

The version of the story in which one of the twins gets burned at Losgar with the swan ships is in "The Shibboleth of Feanor" in the History of Middle-earth (Peoples of Middle-earth). Because of a name/age switch, it is not certain which of the twins this is or would be if that version of the story is incorporated back into other versions of the legendarium.

Reckoning of Years

An elvish loremaster experiences the beginning of a new age, the Years of the Sun.
Galadriel has practical concerns.

Rating: G (Gen)

Read Reckoning of Years

Quennar sat, taking in the new day. All about him, he sensed, things were waking from a long, long sleep and in a hurry to get going and growing. New leaves of new plants sprouting under a new sun and a new moon! When he laid his hand on the ground, he could feel it almost quivering with a vigour that seemed to seep upwards into his sluggish brain.

‘What are you doing, Quennar?’ asked Galadriel, pointing eastwards. ‘We need to keep going!’

‘But I’m busy! I’m busy thinking, Artanis! We need a new way to count the new year.’

---

Chapter End Notes

Quennar i Onotimo was the loremaster who wrote the definitive treatise about reckoning of years, that is, chronology and the length of the Years of the Trees as compared to Years of the Sun. A passage from this work is quoted in the introduction of the Annals of Aman (Morgoth's Ring, HoME X). In some versions of the Legendarium, Quennar was also a historian.
It is not certain that Quennar left Aman with the Noldor, but the section of annals attributed to him finishes with the crossing of the Ice and the arrival of Fingolfin in Middle-earth (although of course this could have been revised in by a later historian). So I have decided that he crossed the Ice with Fingolfin and Galadriel.
Artanis is Galadriel's earlier name, before she was named Galadriel by Celeborn, so that is how Quennar addresses her.

Written for the prompts "new day, new leaf, new moon, new year" at Tolkien Weekly. 1 x 100 words in Word.

Sexing your Herp

The sex (and gender) of reptiles can be difficult to determine. Perhaps not only for human beings.

(Glaurung, Ancalagon)

Teens (mild sexual content, crack)

Read Sexing your Herp

‘If you would only care to make me the happiest of dragons!’

Glaurung’s voice trembled, now he finally had gathered the courage to make his request. Nervously he waited for his answer. He cast admiring looks at the unfolding huge black wings, mighty and strong and yet delicate like the sumptuous ebony silks Sauron used to wear (before the Luthien incident).

‘Glaurung, you idiot,’ replied Ancalagon in a deep voice.

‘Oh,’ stammered Glaurung, ‘you’re male?’

Ancalagon regarded him with steely contempt.

‘You think that would matter, do you?’ He snorted a brief spurt of flame. ‘No. Much worse. I’m ace.’

---

Chapter End Notes

Ancalagon is clearly aro as well as ace...

Cross-posted from the SWG 13th birthday insta-drabbling event on Discord. The title is taken from the title of a internet page for reptile owners, quoted during a discussion thread on how to determine the sex of dragons and on Ancalagon's gender. The prompt words were: tremble, silks, courage, answer.

A Glory of Colours

Egalmoth, Lord of the House of the Heavenly Arch in the city of Gondolin, is asked how he came to adopt the rainbow as the device of his house.

Rating: Teens for brief references to canonical violence and alcohol consumption

Read A Glory of Colours

It was known in Gondolin that if you asked Egalmoth how he had come to adopt the rainbow as his device, for the most part, he would change the topic or turn it aside with a joke at his own expense. It was rare—and always unexpected—that he would consent to speak, late at night, it might be, in a smoky tavern, across a table top dripping and reeking with spilled beer, but stone-cold sober, drawing his blue cloak more closely about himself.

How even in Valinor he had loved the refracted light, the partial glimpses of rainbow in fountains and waterfalls, bands of half-seen colour shimmering in rainwater dripping off the leaves of Laurelin, had been haunted by it, like a word he could not quite pronounce. How in Valinor he had not been a traveller until swept up in the Flight of the Noldor, had never passed the Calacirya or even guessed how much darkness there might be in the world outside. How the darkness, despite the light of the stars, had only seemed to deepen after the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, how even the whiteness of the ice floes of the Helcaraxe had only seemed another shade of black, how losing all sense of colour out there he had tried to remember the colour blue and could not. How he had thought he would never see blue again, but how first the Moon had risen and then the Sun. How they had set foot in Middle-earth and how they had, for the first time, encountered the Enemy. How it had rained over the battlefield, a brief downpour washing away blood, and how sinking to his knees, entirely overwhelmed, he had looked up and seen it in the sky: not only blue, but bands of yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, all the colours of the full rainbow.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for the LOTR Community Challenge on Livejournal for August on the theme "rainbow", for the element "blue".

Title taken from the description of the folk of the House of the Heavenly Arch in "The Fall of Gondolin".
Egalmoth's blue cloak is mentioned in the same passage.

The idea that it was easier to see a full rainbow by the light of the Sun than by the light of the Trees is not canonical, but at present I'm not aware of anything that explicitly contradicts it.

City of Swans and Pearls

A very early encounter of Finarfin's with the city of Alqualonde.
A happy moment in childhood, and glimpses of the less happy aftermath.

Rating: Teens (referenced canon violence)

Read City of Swans and Pearls

Arafinwe fell in love with the Swan Haven, the City of Pearl, long before he fell in love with his future wife, when he was a boy and came to Alqualonde with his mother. He was small enough that walking down the Calacirya, Indis took him by the hand and squeezed it a little occasionally so that he knew that he was doing well, not dawdling and not complaining.

They walked down the road away from Tirion, with their backs to the Light of the Trees and their shadows falling continually before their feet. The boy thought that the Swan Haven might be a darksome place, darker than any he had seen yet, outside the mountain fence, but although the city was half surrounded by darkness and, looking out from the top of the pass, the sea grew dim eastward, and so did the coast far to the north and south, the city itself was not dark.

All its surfaces shimmered, making the most of the light of Telperion and Laurelin, reflecting their farthest rays back and forth among buildings and out onto the waves, and so did the jewels scattered on the beaches round about so that almost Alqualonde seemed to shine with its own light. And lightest of all was the Hall of Olwe, surrounded by lamps, its walls all inlaid with mother-of-pearl and mirrors. There the king and his family—among them a daughter that was older enough than Arafinwe for the age difference still to matter, at this time—welcomed Indis and her son.

Arafinwe’s mother was different in the lands of the Falmari. Indis had been well acquainted with Olwe long before she married the Noldoran, when she was one of the few Vanyar who still travelled so far out from Taniquetil. And although wherever she went, she never forgot she was the queen of the Noldor now, among the Falmari she need not trouble to defend the Noldor against the Vanyar or the Vanyar against the Noldor, as too often she did in Tirion and in Valmar. Sometimes, out here, she almost was just Indis. Later, Arafinwe would remember his mother running swiftly along the sand, joking with Olwe and swapping sea shanties with the sailors.

***

But at the time of the Darkening, the nacre of Swan Haven was dull, opaque. There was no light to be reflected and even the great arch at the entrance of the harbour was merely a paler shadow. No gleam in the blackness, just terror and shame and guilt.

***

‘I went as soon as I learned what had happened,’ commented Earwen, almost expressionless. ‘But when I arrived at Alpalonde, I heard you had been there and gone on with the rest.’

‘It was the wrong decision,’ Arafinwe admitted. ‘But all decisions seemed wrong, in the Darkness.’

‘They still do,’ he added, after a pause. ‘At least somewhat.’

Earwen said nothing.

‘Do not leave now, Earwen, I beg you,’ said Arafinwe, ‘whatever you think of me. The Noldor need you, those who stayed and also those who turned back, if you can find it in you to be their queen. And maybe your people will gain more from your staying, too, in the long run, even if other of their needs seem more pressing, now. We can loose this ravelled knot together, perhaps, with much patience. But I fear what will happen if you leave.’

‘I am here, after all, am I not?’ Earwen said. ‘Not there, despite those other pressing needs.’

Arafinwe reached out his hand and dropped it again, abashed.

‘Let us not count anything past mending, until we have attempted it,’ said Earwen. Her voice sounded kinder, but much more tired. ‘However broken it may seem, until we have tested it and proved beyond doubt...'

***

Sunlight gleams off the walls and the roof of the Hall of Pearl. To Arafinwe it seems just a little garish, still subtly wrong in this other, newer light even after all those Ages, although he feels he should know better. But he watches a small Noldorin boy play at an elaborate version of hopscotch on the harbourfront with a group of young Falmari, the latest scions of Olwe’s numerous family, and he smiles.

 

---

Chapter End Notes

Written as a treat for the TRSB exchange for hennethgalad's artwork Hall of Pearls.

The following quotation from the "Silmarillion" accompanied the artwork:
And many pearls they won for themselves from the sea, and their halls were of pearl, and of pearl were the mansions of Olwë at Alqualondë, the Haven of the Swans, lit with many lamps

Earwen says "Alpalonde" rather than "Alqualonde" here, because she's Telerin.

Indis is said often to have wandered far alone, singing, after her people moved to Valmar, in the History of Middle-earth. Almost certainly, she is not meant to wander as far as Alqualonde, but I have taken a liberty here.

Using Finarfin's Quenya name "Arafinwe" (from History of Middle-Earth)

Reading the Silmarillion on Remembrance Sunday

This is essentially meta, I guess, although lightly fictionalized.

Tolkien meets Wilfred Owen on 11 November 2018 in the mind of a reader.

Written for the easy prompt set of the B-Movie Challenge.

Well, history has more horrors than any B-movie...

Read Reading the Silmarillion on Remembrance Sunday

She took up the book. Its dark purple covers, bearing emblems of flowers and stars, issued the familiar invitation.  So often she had found escape here, an ambiguous comfort, a measure of courage to return and stand her ground, however precariously.

But it was the 11 November 2018 at eleven o’clock. And the world had changed, had changed again, as it had one hundred years ago. She opened the pages and fell right in.

Only this time, rather than finding easy foothold among elves, even in the path of dragons, she fell straight through to where, as under a green sea, through misty panes and thickened light, one was seen drowning—yelling out and stumbling, guttering, floundering—as in the smothering dreams so many shared then and have shared since.

How to confront this? War has not ceased, and war will come again.

She held on to the book.

Courage still may be found in unlikely places. Catch at a star and name it Hope, in hope.

---

Chapter End Notes

The description of a man dying in a gas attack in World War I is in Wilfred Owen's poem Dulce et Decorum Est.

"And play at books that I have read"

An evening sees the family of Rivendell peacefully assembled around the fire.

Arwen kid-fic (true drabble)

Written for starters and also for the cheese course for the Holiday Feast Challenge.

A late entry, which I'm hoping will be covered by the amnesty of the New Year's Resolution.

The quotation I used for starters is the beginning of Robert Louis Stevenson's poem "The Land of Story-books". I also used another line for the title.

Read "And play at books that I have read"

It was evening. The lamps were lit. Elrond and Celebrian sat around the fire with Elrohir and Elladan, who were talking softly. Celebrian was humming. Elrond, listening, almost dozed away.

Silence fell and, suddenly, he asked: ‘Where is Arwen? Wasn’t she sitting by my right foot only a moment ago?’

‘I have no idea!’ said Celebrian, smiling.

‘She must have sneaked away very cleverly,’ said Elladan.

‘She is lost to us!’ exclaimed Elrohir dramatically.

Arwen, in the shadows, burst out giggling.

‘What were you playing at, Arwen?’

‘Beren and Luthien!’

‘And who were you being?’

‘Beren the outlaw, of course!’

---

Chapter End Notes

I also incorporated a prompt "Right Foot", from Tolkien Weekly's Direction Challenge.

 

Two stanzas from the poem:

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

[...]

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

[..]

Something for Nothing

Ecthelion builds a fountain for Egalmoth.

Rating G (no warnings)

Read Something for Nothing

‘Come with me,’ said Ecthelion.

He took Egalmoth’s hand and led him to the new fountain.

‘Look at the colours,’ he said.

The new fountain in front of Egalmoth’s house was the largest yet and its arrangement complex. In the sunlight, among the gushing and falling waters, danced multiple fragments of rainbows: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple.

‘Did you do that on purpose?’ asked Egalmoth of the Heavenly Arch.

‘It is the sun,’ replied Ecthelion of the Fountain. ‘I merely built the best fountain for you that I could. It was the light that gave us rainbows, for free.’

---

Chapter End Notes

100 words in MS Word

For the "Something for Nothing" challenge on Tolkien100 and the Rainbow Challenge on Tolkien Weekly (Livejournal)