Drabbles: The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales by Zdenka

Violets

Lalwen receives a poem. (Elemmírë/Lalwen)

(A haiku always feels a little insubstantial to me, at least when I write them, so I wrote a drabble with a haiku in it.)

Read Violets

There is a secluded and shady part of the palace gardens where a little stream winds among the grass, lined with moss and violets. It is a pleasant place to spend the heat of Laurelin’s hours. If the King’s daughter returns one day with muddy feet and carrying her shoes, no one need think anything of it.

And later, there is a note:

Let the violets
not tell how many kisses
they saw by the stream.

No signature, but she hardly needs one to know the author. Lalwendë smiles and presses the paper fervently to her lips, thinking of Elemmírë.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for the Silmarillion Writers' Guild/Silmladylove Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo, for the prompts:

Formats and Genres: True Drabble (I12)
Formats and Genres: Haiku (O41)
Story Elements: Violets (N19)

By Light of Moon and Ray of Star

Galadriel sees Lúthien dancing in the woods of Doriath. (Galadriel/Lúthien)

Read By Light of Moon and Ray of Star

Galadriel paces slowly through the woods of Doriath. The moon is bright, and the song of the nightingales fills her with pleasant melancholy. She does not expect to find Lúthien dancing among the flowers, her dark hair unbound and her white feet flashing beneath the hem of her robe. Lúthien dances like freedom itself, wild and unrestrained, her head tilted back and her eyes shining with delight. Galadriel watches, entranced.

Lúthien slows, comes to a halt. Galadriel wonders if she should apologize, but Lúthien smiles and hold out her hands to her. “Dance with me,” she says, and Galadriel goes.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for Fandom Stocking 2015.

Lure of Darkness

Thuringwethil is attracted by the danger of Nan Dungortheb. (Thuringwethil/Ungoliant. Warning for giant evil spider. I'm sorry.)

Read Lure of Darkness

Her favorite errands are the ones that take her over Nan Dungortheb. Here she knows there will be no burning sun, no glaring moon to pain her. She is wrapped in luxuriant darkness so deep not even her eyes can pierce it; she must guide herself with echoes like the bat she resembles.

She can dimly sense the massive shape stirring below her: her faceted eyes and deadly fangs, her insatiable hunger. Thuringwethil bares her own fangs as she swoops lower. To linger would be her death. Yet every time she passes through, she thinks of letting Ungoliant catch her.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for femslash100 Drabble Tag Round 6, for the prompt: "Silmarillion: Thuringwethil/Ungoliant - Darkness."

Change of Heart

A follower of Celegorm and Curufin in Nargothrond finds herself beginning to doubt. (OFC/OFC)

(For those who remember Feredwen, this is a different character.)

Read Change of Heart

Finrod has gone, with his mortal. We walk through Nargothrond armed and armored.

One lady boldly steps into my path. “You should not be here,” she says defiantly, her gaze piercing me. I stare in surprise; her friends pull her away. My eyes follow her.

The door of Lúthien’s chamber is locked. My heart is locked. Silently, imperceptibly, both of them open. I am drifting, doubting all I knew.

I accept Orodreth’s proposal of peace. I do not know if she can forgive me, but when I kneel before Orodreth, I raise my eyes to her and not to him.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo, for the prompts:

Four Words: proposal, drifting, lock, mortal (O44)
Opposites Attract: political enemies (B8)

Like Pools of Shadow

Finduilas helps free Lúthien from captivity in Nargothrond. (Slight Finduilas/Lúthien.)

Read Like Pools of Shadow

It is Huan who brings Lúthien’s cloak, but not alone; as the guards fall in enchanted sleep, it is Finduilas’s hands that undo the locks and open doors until Lúthien is free.

As Lúthien flings the shadow cloak around her shoulders, it brushes against Finduilas. Drowsiness overcomes her and her knees give way. Delicate arms catch her; she is floating, wrapped in a soft darkness. She wakes in her own bed, but Celegorm and Curufin are furious, and she knows it was no dream. She knows also she did not dream the brief touch of Lúthien’s lips against her forehead.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for femslash100 Drabble Tag Round 6, for the prompt: "The Silmarillion: Finduilas/Lúthien – freedom." Title from the Lay of Leithian.

Dark Mirror

Lúthien has taken Thuringwethil's skin to wear; Thuringwethil takes it back for a moment. (Lúthien/Thuringwethil. Warning for brief possession/horror.)

Read Dark Mirror

Wrapped in the bat-fell, Lúthien gazes into a dark pool of water and shudders at her reflection. The murky image stirs as she watches, raising her wings and turning her head, although Lúthien has not moved. Then her arms do move without her intent, the edge of one leathery wing stroking down her cheek and across her lips, the iron claws combing possessively through her hair. Her reflection looks at her with glittering dark eyes. Did you think my kind so easy to destroy, daughter of Melian?

"Begone," Lúthien says fiercely, calling on her power.

A shadow flits away, laughing.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for femslash100 Drabble Tag Round 7, for the prompt: "The Silmarillion: Lúthien/Thuringwethil - mirror."

Division

Celebrimbor rebels. Possible AU (it probably didn’t happen this way, but I got an image in my mind and wanted to write it).

Read Division

Celebrimbor stands with the others to hear the returned prisoners’ story. Beren wept for Finrod, he thinks, as my father did not. A reckless impulse stirs within him.

He watches the faces of the crowd, how they lean toward the speakers; he remembers listening to his father and uncle as they examined every aspect of Nargothrond for weaknesses. He imagines setting a metal peg in a small crack of a rock face, then swinging the hammer to split it neatly apart.

He moves through the crowd, speaking softly. And the power in Nargothrond slides gently back from Celegorm to Orodreth.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Woodwork: peg"

Forget Not This

Nellas shows Nienor a new place. (Nellas/Nienor)

Read Forget Not This

“Come with me,” Nellas says and takes her hand.

Nienor follows. This time Nellas leads her to where the trees open into a meadow by the river. Flowers grow wildly mixed together, white and yellow and gold, more kinds than Nienor knows the names of. The sunlight is warm on her skin, and bees hum among the blossoms.

Nienor gathers flowers and twines them in Nellas’s hair, running her fingers through the soft strands. Nellas leans against her but hesitates. “It is true,” she asks quietly, “that as mortals grow older, they forget?”

“I will not forget you,” Nienor promises.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for femslash100 Drabble Tag Round 6, for the prompt: "The Silmarillion: Nellas/Nienor - flowers"

Rains of Spring

Nellas and Nienor are caught in a spring rainstorm. (Nellas/Nienor)

Read Rains of Spring

Thunder rolls in the distance, then rain pours down. It melts away the last clinging traces of the winter’s snow; Nellas can feel the stirring and slow awakening of every seed lying dormant in the dark earth.

Nienor has been caught in the sudden rainfall, and she comes to Nellas with her hair clinging about her face in wet tangles. Nienor turns her face upward to the storm and laughs with sheer joy.

They take shelter together under a spreading beech tree and trade kisses there, entwined in each other’s arms, while the rain comes down like a silver curtain.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo, for the prompts:

Emotions: Joy (O44)
Four Words: silver, tangle, rainfall, dormant (N21)
Story Elements: Thunder (B8)

Evasion

Elwing fears for her children. (Eärendil, Elwing)

Read Evasion

Elwing knows the story well –- how her two small brothers were left in the forest to starve by the cruel servants of the crueler sons of Fëanor. When she leaps from the cliff, her last thought is a hope that her sons will escape such a fate. Even in Valinor, she cannot put aside her care for them.

Eärendil tells her he has seen their sons from on high, that they are safe and cared for. She weeps tears of joy. To her eager questions, he says only: “We cannot affect their lives. They are safe –- let that be enough.”

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for Back to Middle-earth Month 2012, prompt O62: "Cause of Death: Starvation."

Warmth

Eärendil returns home to Elwing. (Eärendil/Elwing)

Read Warmth

It is cold and vast, the waterless sea upon which he sails. The vessel of the sun sails here too, but her warmth does not reach him. The moon's light is beautiful but chill. All night he journeys, with only the other stars for company. Then at last, at last he comes in sight of the tower, and Elwing rises gladly to meet him on white wings. As she touches the deck, her feathers fall away and she stands, lovely, in her own form before him. He clasps his wife to his breast, and her embrace warms him all through.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for elwing_alcyone's prompt at fic_promptly: "The Silmarillion, Elwing/Earendil, Bird Girl and the Man Who Followed the Sun (Velma Wallis)."

Let the Star Rise

Celebrimbor makes a symbolic decision.

Read Let the Star Rise

Celebrimbor has spent centuries carefully not being his father’s son. Roaming with his small band of craftsmen, he did not want to needlessly offend the survivors of Nargothrond, or Doriath, or Sirion, or –- His kinsmen cut a wide swath through Middle-earth.

But now, he thinks, it is time. The Silmarils are gone; the folly of the House of Fëanor has worked itself out. His grandfather can be remembered as he should: the greatest of the Noldor in craft and learning. When he builds the House of the Jewel-smiths in Eregion, he carves the star of Fëanor prominently on its doors.

---

Chapter End Notes

Inspired by thinking that if Celebrimbor was using the Star of the House of Fëanor as a sigil in the Second Age and put it in such a conspicuous place as the Doors of Moria, his feelings toward his father’s family cannot have been unambiguous rejection.

Prompts from B2MeM 2013:

Doors of Durin (Day Six):

“At the top, as high as Gandalf could reach, was an arch of interlacing letters in an Elvish character. Below, though the threads were in places blurred or broken, the outline could be seen of an anvil and a hammer surmounted by a crown with seven stars. Beneath these again were two trees, each bearing crescent moons. More clearly than all else there shone forth in the middle of the door a single star with many rays.”

(From The Fellowship of the Ring, “A Journey in the Dark”)

Zeal (Day One):

"Be he friend or foe or foul offspring
of Morgoth Bauglir, be he mortal dark
that in after days on earth shall dwell,
shall no law nor love nor league of Gods,
no might nor mercy, not moveless fate,
defend him for ever from the fierce vengeance
of the sons of Fëanor, whoso seize or steal
or finding keep the fair enchanted
globes of crystal whose glory dies not,
the Silmarils. We have sworn for ever!"

(from The Lays of Beleriand, "The Flight of the Noldoli")

Courting Gift

A Dwarvish craftswoman, fearing her own lack of eloquence, makes a gift to speak her feelings. (OFC/OFC)

Read Courting Gift

Firazul had mined the gold herself from the vein of ore below Zirakzigil, refined it, shaped it, hammered and polished it, set it with gems that shone cold blue like a glacier's ice.

Yet now, looking at the necklace, she feared it was not bright enough for Arudâl--merry-hearted and fearless, surrounded by friends. Firazul was nearly invisible among a crowd, silent except in matters of her craft. But Arudâl sought her out, her smile warm and welcoming.

Firazul drummed her fingers nervously against her ankle. Arudâl made her tongue-tied; the work of her hands must speak for her heart.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo, for the prompts:

Four Words: below, ankle, invisible, glacier (I11)
Language of Flowers: Wisteria: Welcoming (I11)
Opposites Attract: shy/confident (G36)
Story Elements: A gold vein (I11)

Zirakzigil: the Dwarvish name for Celebdil or Silvertine, one of the three mountains of Khazad-dûm.

Though it doesn't come into the drabble, this is meant to be set in the Second Age, when the friendship between the smiths of Eregion and Khazad-dûm flourished.

Driftwood

Celebrimbor sees the ruin of Ost-in-Edhil. (Warning for aftermath of violence.)

Read Driftwood

The workings of the mind are strange, Celebrimbor thinks. He sees his people slain, their bodies scattered, and cannot weep. He catches glimpses, as Annatar’s orcs drag him by, of a hand clutching a broken sword, open eyes staring upward, braids of dark hair trailing in the dust. It is too much, bringing him past sorrow into numbness. Then he sees an apprentice’s half-finished gold chain, with flawed technique Celebrimbor had thought there was time to correct, and Uithel’s metal-working tools, which she always tended so meticulously, thrown to the ground and broken; and suddenly his eyes sting with tears.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for B2MeM 2013; edited and posted for Huinare’s June of Doom & Gloom 2014.

Prompt from B2MeM 2013: People of the Jewel-smiths (Day Thirteen):

“In Eregion the craftsmen of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, the People of the Jewel-smiths, surpassed in cunning all that have ever wrought, save only Fëanor himself; and indeed greatest in skill among them was Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, who was estranged from his father and remained in Nargothrond when Celegorm and Curufin were driven forth, as is told in the Quenta Silmarillion.”

(from The Silmarillion, “Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age”)

Fall

The fall of the House of Fëanor. (Maedhros, Celebrimbor)

Read Fall

It ends as it began: in flame. Maedhros sees the white ships burn and feels the heat on his face—he stands on the edge of a chasm, the Silmaril burning agony in his hand—and he knows there is no going back.

It ends as it began: with a pair of doors smashed open, the many-rayed star that adorned them twisted and battered by the force of the blows. Formenos fell; Ost-in-Edhil falls, the treasure-house ransacked. Celebrimbor wished—he hoped—to make that Star shine in glory again, but he knows this time there will be no new rising.

The Last Work

Celebrimbor speaks to Annatar. (Warning for non-graphic torture.)

Read The Last Work

What wonders we created together, Annatar, once friend. You gave me many gifts. That at least was not a lie. Now it is you who craft, and I who am crafted upon. You are meticulous as always, drawing pain from this body as you would draw out metal into wire.

You think yourself victor. Though my hands are bound, I still have a part in this work. We will create only death between us. You will not gain what you seek, for all your striving; and this endurance, though none shall see it, is the last work of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain.

Weather

Erendis creates her own weather.

Read Weather

The mildness of the clear morning in the first rays of dawn did not seem to touch Erendis. Her women gladly waited inside while she met with Lord Aldarion upon the steps. Peeping out, they spoke to each other in whispers.

“He will not bend.”

“Neither will she.”

“Nay, after so long, he should at least ask her pardon.”

“She will not sell her pride.”

“She calls for the child; that is hopeful.”

They hastily moved aside and curtsied as Erendis came back into the house leading her daughter by the hand, her eyes as cold as a winter storm.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for B2MeM 2012. Prompt B13: Song Lyrics: “You’re a one-man shift in the weather, you’re the woman who just won’t sell” -Vienna Teng - Hope on Fire

East and West

After her marriage to the King of Númenor, Inzilbêth receives a message from her beloved, a woman of the Faithful, and sends her own in response. (Inzilbêth/OFC. Warning for reference to forced marriage.)

Read East and West

East, not West we must look; so the King commands.

West, not East my song rises, to the Lords of the West who are eternal.

West, not East my heart turns, for love of the King's lady who once dwelt in Andúnië.

~

East, not West the King's face is turned; though unwilling, the Queen must stand beside him.

West, not East fly my prayers, though my lips must remain silent.

East, not West flies my heart, to the haven of Rómenna; for the King's lady has not forgotten the love she knew in the House of the Lord of Andúnië.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for femslash100 Drabble Tag Round 7, for Himring's prompt: "Silmarillion: Any Numenorean/OFC - East, not West."

Ar-Gimilzôr "was the greatest enemy of the Faithful that had yet arisen" (Unfinished Tales, "The Line of Elros"). He forced the Elf-friends to move from Andúnië, in the west of Númenor, to Rómenna in the east so that he could keep an eye on them.

Inzilbêth, who was "renowned for her beauty," was kin to the Lords of Andúnië and secretly one of the Faithful. Ar-Gimilzôr married her against her will, and "No love was there between Ar-Gimilzôr and his queen," according to the Silmarillion. Inzilbêth had an influence on the elder of their two sons, later the King Tar-Palantir.

The Lords of the West: the Valar.

The Last Ship

Amandil remembers the Eldar.

Read The Last Ship

In former days, the white sails of the Eldar glided into the haven of Andúnië like a flock of swans coming to rest. Amandil remembers the Elven-folk: the shining light of their eyes, their grace and beauty, their clear voices raised in song.

Amandil is old enough to remember. His son Elendil was not yet born when the last ship of Eressëa went back into the West, carrying threats and insulting messages from Ar-Gimilzôr the King. Will the Eldar become no more than a half-remembered tale to his descendants? Looking westward, he prays to see them again before he dies.

---

Chapter End Notes

Written for B2MeM 2012. Prompt B14: Song Lyrics: "I saw all the bright people / in imposing flocks they landed" --Dar Williams, “Mercy of the Fallen.”

Concealment

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: slate" (Tar-Míriel, Tar-Palantir)

Read Concealment

“Hide your thoughts beneath the surface, Míriel,” her father had said as they walked together over the grey and purple slate that lined the path to the beach in Andúnië. “Let them swim deep and silently but never be caught. The Court is not a safe place for us now.”

“The Lady Zimraphel, daughter of the King’s Heir.”

Míriel crossed the marble floor of the King’s Court, imagining it was slate and white sand. As she smiled graciously and made the proper obeisance before Ar-Gimilzôr the King, she made her eyes reflect everything and reveal nothing, like the dancing waves.

---

Chapter End Notes

Inspired by thinking about the dates in "The Line of Elros" from Unfinished Tales. Míriel was sixty years old when her father took the throne, and thus she must have grown up in the reign of Ar-Gimilzôr who was “the greatest enemy of the Faithful that had yet arisen.”

Shadow

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: marble" (Tar-Míriel, Tar-Palantir, Gimilkhâd, Ar-Pharazôn)

Read Shadow

The floor of the King’s antechamber is inlaid with a map of Númenor, formed from marble in different colors. Míriel never grows tired of looking at it. Her father murmurs the names of towns and harbors to her while they wait.

The King’s door opens, and Gimilkhâd sweeps out with his attendants. “My lord brother,” the King’s Heir greets him courteously. Gimilkhâd haughtily ignores them, but his son Pharazôn drifts over as if by chance.

“What is that place called?” he asks, pointing at the map. The shadow of his arm falls over the West. Inziladûn shudders and turns away.

---

Chapter End Notes

Inziladûn, the King's Heir: the future king Tar-Palantir.

In Doubt

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: chalk" (Tar-Míriel)

Read In Doubt

Míriel steps into the courtyard. The White Tree is in flower; its bark glimmers chalk-pale in the darkness, and the air is heavy with the sweet scent. She is watched too closely to reach the Meneltarma, but surely the Valar’s presence rests here, if anywhere in Armenelos.

Under the Tree’s concealing branches, she pleads silently for a sign to guide her course. No vision rises from the night, though she waits long, straining to pierce the darkness with aching eyes. She has not inherited her father’s gift of foresight; and in the morning, her cousin Pharazôn will demand an answer.

Sign of the Faithful

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: obsidian" (Tar-Míriel, OC)

Read Sign of the Faithful

Sauron’s blasphemous temple rises above the towers of Armenelos, its silver dome smeared obsidian-black with smoke. Míriel cannot escape the sight of it anywhere in the city. The black fog seems to settle in her heart also. When Amandil tries to see her, she gives orders to say she is ill.

Zamîn returns with something clasped in her hand. "My lady," she says uncertainly, "he sent this. I didn’t want the King’s Men to see. It’s some Elvish thing –"

A ring, whose twin golden serpents stare at her with gleaming emerald eyes. After a moment Míriel says, "Show him in."

---

Chapter End Notes

Amandil's ring is the Ring of Barahir.

Facing the Shadow

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: granite" (Tar-Míriel, Amandil)

Read Facing the Shadow

Míriel lets Amandil lead her into the square before the false Temple. It is a hideous thing, granite and obsidian. Though the afternoon sunlight is warm, she feels a chill in her heart. She turns away and covers her face.

Amandil’s hand touches her arm. “Do not hide from it, lady.”

“Do you know,” she whispers, “what is done there?”

“I know it.” His tone is grim. He stands facing the Temple, and Míriel forces herself to raise her head. “Look upon the work of our Enemy, my Queen,” Amandil says quietly, “and let us speak of what hope remains.”

Gift

A last drabble to round off the sequence. Inspired by the Petrology series of prompts at tolkien_weekly, but not directly based on it. (Tar-Míriel, OCs)

Read Gift

Míriel receives a desperate plea from one of Amandil’s people. "My husband was arrested this morning," the woman says quietly. "He will be taken to the Temple. Our daughter--" Her voice falters. "She is still a child, but their hearts are hard as flint. I ask you to take her into your service in the palace."

"Are you certain? The Court has its own dangers, and she will not learn the ways of Andúnië here."

"Better she forget. That, and everything."

Míriel bows her head. When the golden-haired child is brought to her, Míriel tells her, "Your name is Kharun."

---

Chapter End Notes

Kharun has a minor part in a previous fic, "In the Last Hour."

Change of Course

Eärendil experiences the change in the shape of the world.

Read Change of Course

From dusk to dawn, brightest of stars, Eärendil steers his ship over Middle-earth. Each night he watches the fleet from Númenor sail closer to the forbidden lands. He tries to plead with the Valar, but this time they will not hear him.

And suddenly, there is a shift -- like the land sliding away under his feet, like the echoing silence that comes with the sudden ending of a storm.

That evening, as sunset nears, he is met by messengers of the Valar. "There has been a change," they tell him, and the light that shines from their eyes is cold.