In the Light of the Trees and After by Lferion

Fly, Fly, Butterfly

A very young Maglor, music, and butterflies.

Written for the Silmarillion Writer's Guild January 2021 Resolutions challenge:
Day 10: Bonus prompts are images for instadrabbling from the Naturalist's Guide to Middle-earth challenge, Sept 2020. Image 2, Butterflies

Read Fly, Fly, Butterfly

 

Fly, fly, butterfly
From the bush up to the sky
Spring, spring, ting-a-ling
Caterpillar did you bring!

A very small Makalaurë, not entirely steady on his feet, was toddling about the children's garden, chasing after the brightly colored butterflies and other flying insects. Anairë was unfamiliar with the tune he was singing, but his high treble was pure and sweet. The words apparently were his own, and as yet there was only one verse. But it scanned, and the rhymes were proper ones.

Even more astonishing, the butterflies appeared to be listening, swooping and fluttering in rhythm with the song.

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And From that Rubble would Rainbows Spring

Natural law is not the same in Valinor

Written for the Silmarillion Writer's Guild January 2021 Resolutions challenge:
-- Day 6: Today's bonus prompt is an addendum to our Crackuary bingo card from February: a bonus 3x3 mini-card! - C2: Breaking the 4th Wall
-- Day 10: Bonus prompts are images for instadrabbling from the Naturalist's Guide to Middle-earth challenge, Sept 2020. Image 4, Bindweed

With many thanks to the SWG Discord denizens for enthusiasm and encouragement, and Runa and Morgynleri for sanity checking.

Read And From that Rubble would Rainbows Spring

Valinor did not, quite, adhere to the laws of physics, or any of the sciences. For most ordinary purposes, gravity, contiguous space, air, water, fire behaved as they did on the now round world. But story, song, will and wish had power to affect things in ways impossible elsewhere. Not to mention that there were things will thoughts and desires and songs of their own that even the Firstborn did not always recognize. One needed to be careful naming things especially. Fireweed flamed. Bindweed bound, relentless tendrils gripping, winding, pulling at fence, pillar, rampart, until, unchecked, any wall would fall.

Inspiration in Iron and Copper

Written for the Fan Flashwork challenge 'Hair' and the SWG Roaring Twenties challenge: Jazz Age bingo card, Square I3 - Art Deco.

Posted here on Fan Flashworks, and here on AO3

Many thanks to Zhie for encouragement and sanity-checking.

The iron-and-copper hanger-loops and the bead strands I made -- the loops and two of the strands for this challenge. The pins are by Rick Hardin, known as Thorvald Olafson in the SCA. Photography by me.

Read Inspiration in Iron and Copper

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Copper strands, as fine as Nelyo's hair and as red, wound about the curls of the iron, holding the loops together so the extra length on the central loop did not make the hanging loops spread apart. Findekáno used the tweezers to tuck under the last fine end. Finished. Just needed a pass with the finishing cloth to shine things up a bit. He'd finished the pins the loops were to hang from several days ago, and the bead-strands were a project from a different learning session altogether, but they would look very nice arranged together in the learner's display.

He hoped Nelyo would not mind that he'd taken inspiration from untangling the snarl that had resulted from wearing Ambarussa's infant efforts at hair-ornaments. His fingers remembered the feel of Nelyo's hair, springy, soft and strong against his fingertips. The copper-red color such vibrant contrast against the silvery-black foil, tangled around the points of the inexpertly cut stars. Ambarussa had been so happy and proud to see Nelyo wearing them. Findekáno was even more touched that Nelyo had asked him to untangle them for him, once the twins had left. That their friendship had reached a place of such trust.

Inspiration could come from anywhere, and what better place than a moment of personal importance? He'd tried to put some of that feeling into the work, the happiness, the warmth, and it felt right to do so, even if it wasn't necessarily apparent in the loops themselves. He gave the copper a final rub with the polishing cloth. It glowed against the iron like he had hoped. They weren't perfect -- the loops were not quite identical, the curls on the ends of the wire were all a little different -- but he was still a learner, learning in many different ways.

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