Many Journeys by Elleth

The Vessel

Prompted by Aria: What if Morgoth had stolen the Silmarils but Finwë had lived? A mini-AU in three drabbles according Open Office, and an experiment with PoVs. Warning for character death if you want to read it that way. Thank you for the 2010 MEFA nomination, Dawn Felagund!

Discovery

Pressed into return to Formenos, the fortress met him rising ruined from the gloom. The great gates twisted, one guard shattered, another an empty husk. The steel doors to the treasure chamber forced, and the casket

-- the Silmarili --

gone.

The room tilted and shifted and spun; he staggered. Voiced jabbered outside, where is the King, where is

--- his father ---

gone.

A fall forward into dark.

And then, torchlight is flickering across rose marble. Arms lock around him, always steady and reliable. Head rested on chest, rough brocades against his cheek, tremors underneath:

Packed full of life, his father's heart beats.

Fires

In Tirion the fires burn, singe stones black, and throw red, dancing shadows. The Kings sit in council, advise faith and patience, but the largest fire of all burns in the palace courtyard, and Fëanáro, hearkening to his father and doomed to idleness, tends it.

The Valar might as well be stone as they gather under leafless branches. Nienna weeps on Ezellohar. Yavanna sings. They harvest fire.

A message speeds to Tirion, where the fires burn higher now, and people grow afraid that the dark shall never end: 'To Curufinwë Fëanáro, greetings. We request his assistance in a mighty work...'

The New Lamp

At last the vessels shine, but it is Míriel, hush, Finwë must not hear, that they whisper about. But Finwë can see the wan --- the void shape, his firstborn. His own fire near-extinguished now anneals the New Lamp Anar, they dare say aloud. And: "It was too mighty a work." And: "Our condolences."

Fëanáro's cracked lips shape words: "No, Atarinya. They will not take this from me."
Finwë's strong arms tremble. Cheek against rough brocades he bears his son, heart barely beating, and rests him on the vessel. The welcoming fire throws red, dancing shadows, packed full of life.