Winds of Change by Lferion

Winds of Change

I.

Ëonwe would descend from the sky on a sunbeam (or as a sunbeam). The grass beneath his feet would be unscathed, despite the burning brightness of him, and towers of air shimmering as if with heat. Disconcerting, even to those used to the ways of the Ainur. His sister, Sinyësúrë, usually (but not always) more gentle, floated down on a whispering ring of cloud, the red of her garments resurrecting gleams of light in the shadows at Her feet. Anaire, determined not to be frightened, hoping She heralded good news, stood firmly upright. Good or not, she would bear it.

II.

Mómësúrë, third of the sisters, the midnight wind, watched Nerdanel -- maker, mother, partner, bereft these long ages -- turn away from her current work and look up at the night sky, at Ëarendil sailing high, the Star of High Hope (to others, not to her, how could it be? That bitter draught had been drunk in full long since), as the breeze ruffled her red curls, dried the damp trails on her cheeks. (Not all tears are evil, she had been told so many times.) The wind kept her company, waiting to appear in fana. Tonight She had hope to give.

III

At sunrise, Faniel went out into her garden, the paths for her wheeled chair swept smooth by the early breeze. In the small wood, the leaves were rustling as the branches swayed together against the lightening sky, water plashed in the fountain, sounding somehow happier than it had in some time. Something, someone (aside from Arien of course, dancing up the Sun) was coming. And with that thought, as color washed into her garden, Orontësúrë distilled into being from white flakes of light and a flurry of bright sparkles. She was glad to be bringing good tidings to her friend.

IV

Anairë, Nerdanel and Faniel were an unlikely trio, waiting together a moon-cycle later, anxious and eager as children. Long had they waited, to the point of putting away any expectation, and now they were discovering again the weird, wry twists that hope could take, as Arien rose higher and fine, bright rain misted the air. In the West, arching high and brilliant a double rainbow gleamed, and, just as the wind-Maiar had promised, figures appeared as if constituted out of the air: Elves, fëar rehoused in new hröar, eyes shining clear as they hurried toward their long-sundered mothers, sister, wives.

Chapter End Notes

The Quenya is intended to mean:
Sinyësúrë - Sunset or Evening Wind (Red)
Mómësúrë, - Black of Night or Midnight Wind (Black)
Orontësúrë - Sunrise Wind (White)

The rainbow in this piece is also a Maia, but I don't know their name.