religious taboos by hennethgalad
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
Tuor tells his son that he will sail with Idril to Valinor.
Major Characters: Eärendil, Tuor
Major Relationships:
Artwork Type: No artwork type listed
Genre: Adventure
Challenges: Taboo
Rating: General
Warnings:
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 2, 324 Posted on 9 February 2017 Updated on 9 February 2017 This fanwork is complete.
religious taboos
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Religious Taboos.
'Tarried in Arvernien'
Tuor strolled along the beach, the warm summer evening was noisy with birdsong, the cries of the gulls floating above him, and the tiny wavelets of the calm ocean bathed his tired feet. He had long known what he must do, what troubled him was the thought of the arguments that he would have to endure with those he loved, perhaps most of all his fine son Earendil, who even now strode blithely down the path. Tuor smiled; the happy young, thinking everything would always be wonderful, that they themselves could never age nor wither, that they could be like the Eldar indeed, and stay glorious unto the very ending of the world.
'Father !' cried Eärendil 'We have guests, mother says you must return, ' he looked with raised eyebrows down at Tuor's bare feet, and said more quietly 'In order to dress for dinner.'
Tuor smiled, clapped his hand upon Eärendil's shoulder, then paused. Earendil stopped beside him and turned to him with a smile 'What is it Father, have you left your shoes on the beach ? Shall I run down and fetch them for you ?'
Tuor looked earnestly at his tall handsome son, in whom the blending of the races of elves and mortals had brought forth a strange luminosity, at once intense and ethereal.
'Eärendil, it is my intention to escort your mother to the undying lands. Not in the serious hope that I myself shall be admitted, but because I cannot endure the thought of her alone here, after I am gone. I must see her safely across Belegaer, I simply must.'
Eärendil paled, and looked at him in stunned silence for a moment, then said 'But Father, you know there is no crossing Belegaer, even the fleet of Turgon was destroyed, and they were elves. For a mortal it is out of the question. It is... it is forbidden. Please put such follies aside, come dine with us, Annael has brought some lovely apricots which he has grown himself. ' he lowered his voice 'And please do not speak of these things to my mother, she has been restless and anxious for some time...' his voice tailed off 'She knows. You have already told her what you intend to do. Are you wounded in the head ? For surely it can only be the Enemy who has placed such wild notions within you !'
Tuor gazed back down the path, and out to sea. It was the thing which was most strange, how little doubt or hesitation he had in his mind. Only the calm certainty that he must take Idril Celebrindal to Valinor; whether he himself ever got there was irrelevant. For though he had wed with an Eldar, he himself was mortal, and even the Valar, it was said, could not take away the Gift of Mortality. He smiled, remembering the many times in his youth when he had clung to the thought that one day he would perish, leaving pain and fear behind.
The wind shifted, bringing the salt and seaweed scent to his nostrils. He felt no fear now, for he himself had been chosen by Ulmo, to bear a message to Gondolin, and though his message had been disregarded, it was there that he had met his beloved wife, and learned the last words of his own father, whom he had never even seen, to Turgon, the father of his bride; that out of their two houses a new star would rise. The words seemed as meaningless as most prophecies do, but Tuor, looking at Eärendil in the fading light, thought of Lúthien and the Silmarils, and wondered...
Eärendil's face was pale, his jaws clenched 'You are determined. You are not asking me, or even mother. You will simply do this thing and perish. I cannot endure it, it is folly.!'
Tuor put a hand on his son's arm. 'You may be correct. I know little of mortals, all the civilization I have known has been with the Eldar. Perhaps, far below the reaches of my mind, my spirit truly believes itself to be of the elven kindred, and in my delusion I shall perish and drown. But your mother is Eldar, she will return from Mandos without me, as would happen wherever I went. We have spoken of this, your mother and I, and our one wish is not to be parted.
Secondly, I have the favour of Ulmo, I fulfilled his wish, though in vain, I do not think' he paused 'No, I feel that he will not have us destroyed on the sea. Truly, I believe we shall both achieve our aim, and cross the Path Forbidden, and reach Tirion, though if I myself am permitted to live long enough to see her safely returned to her family, I shall be able to depart Arda in peace.'
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