Entwined by Anérea

Entwined

Inspired by lferion's beautiful sculptural metal artwork Intertwined

Note on my names:
Since Tolkien based Taliska on Gothic, I’m following suit as best I can for the names of my original characters:
Awo is Gothic for grandmother
Amie is from athei (mother)
Saifreth from sei (she who/with…) and frathi (insight/perception)
Ahwë is from ahwa ‘river’

Read Entwined

Her village lay near the great rushing stream that wound its way down from the fire-bright Mountains of Sunrise over which her people had journeyed when her Amei was still a little girl. She never tired of hearing Awo’s stories of the Wide Water that lay beyond, with its multitude of fickle moods: the towering waves slamming the cliffs sounding like a perpetual thunderstorm; the multi-hued rock pools each with its own tiny village of diverse inhabitants; the gentle days when the Big Water, almost somnolent, whispered against the sands, belying the danger that ever awaited the ignorant or arrogant.

Although intrigued by the Wide Water, it was her mountain stream that Saifreth truly loved. She loved listening to its song varying between a light burble and a deep resonant thrum—loved dangling her feet or trailing her hand, savouring the sensuality of water caressing her skin. There were those in her village, and indeed from neighbouring settlements too, jostling for that honour. Yet much as she enjoyed their company exploring the wide plains and forested mountains together, she laughed their advances off. They held no interest for her. Her being felt somehow intertwined more with water than with men.

He observed the villagers through the wavering lens of his stream, listened to their chatter as they bathed and drank. Whereas his brother Ossë loved seashores, Ahwë's affinity was for flowing inland waters. And just as water attunes to its surroundings, so he was proud to flow easily with change—although when they chose to serve another, many called this fickleness. But now he felt drawn to the Woman, the quiet one who wandered often alone upstream to lie, floating, in the cool embrace of his pools, her body still, save for a slight rise and fall with each breath.

On a calm, misty morning she found him there, at her favourite pool, as if he had been waiting for her. She’d never laid eyes on him before, yet when he reached out to steady her as she tripped in surprise, his touch was cool, reassuring—and instantly familiar. His brass-coloured hair and beard curled slightly like twisting waterweeds in the current, while his eyes, the colour of fish scales, flashed a glint at times as of sunlight catching the water's surface. She was enthralled. That night they lay entwined, and he whispered the creed of Melkor in her ear.

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Chapter End Notes

Also from The Silmarillion, Chapter 12: Of Men
“When Men awoke in Hildórien at the rising of the Sun the spies of Morgoth were watchful, and tidings were soon brought to him; and this seemed to him so great a matter that secretly under shadow he himself departed from Angband, and went forth into Middle-earth, leaving to Sauron the command of the War. […] To corrupt or destroy whatsoever arose new and fair was ever the chief desire of Morgoth; and doubtless he had this purpose also in his errand: by fear and lies to make Men the foes of the Eldar, and bring them up out of the east against Beleriand. But this design was slow to ripen, and was never wholly achieved; for Men (it is said) were at first very few in number, whereas Morgoth grew afraid of the growing power and union of the Eldar and came back to Angband, leaving behind at that time but few servants, and those of less might and cunning."