In Fields of Gold by Arveldis

In Fields of Gold

Written for @advestager's Tumblr prompt: "Finwë + poured forth their joy in music and song"

“[Indis] walked often alone among the friths and fields of the Valar, filling them with music.” — “Later Versions of the Story of Finwë and Míriel in the Quenta Silmarillion” (from Morgoth’s Ring)

Read In Fields of Gold

A soft breeze ran rippling through the fields as Finwë walked through the bobbing stalks. The light of Laurelin, now nearing its noon and the fullness of its splendor, shone warm upon his back and limned the fields in gold. Larks winged over the fields, and their bright songs warbled through the air.

Finwë’s heart felt lighter than it had in many a year, so light that he felt that if the breeze were stronger, it might bear him up over the fields on the wings of the wind. Were he inclined to dancing, he would have leapt through the fields.

But dancing was Indis’ part, dancing and singing as fair as that of the maidens of Nessa. Indis, to whom he was now betrothed, against all hope.

The sound of singing, as deep and golden as the honey that dripped from the combs of the beehives of Yavanna, spilled over the friths and fields, and Finwë, smiling, quickened his step.

In the field ahead, Indis walked singing. In her arms was a basket laden with bright fruit, and her hair, the color of cornsilk, hung plaited down her back. 

He called out to her, and she turned, and her song rose with joy at the sight of him. Setting aside her basket, Indis ran barefoot through the fields to greet him, and he swept her into his arms and spun her around. Her laughter fell upon the fields like rain, and Finwë felt it wash over his heart, welling up in the cracks that he had thought would ever remain after the loss of Míriel.

As he set her down, Indis slipped her hand into his, and her upturned face shone with radiant joy that he knew was reflected upon his own face. “Sing with me,” she said.

“I have not the voice of one of the Vanyar,” Finwë said, smiling.

Indis’ eyes glittered with mirth. “Sing with me.”

With a fond, indulgent smile, he joined his voice with hers, and the song of their joy spilled over the fields, and all who heard it felt their hearts lighten.

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Chapter End Notes

Indis’ characterization in Morgoth’s Ring fit so well for this prompt. I love the extra details we’re given about her there—her love for singing, her eager exuberance, and her joy; they make her a much more colorful character than we're shown in some of the other accounts of her. Here’s another quote from Morgoth’s Ring that inspired this fic:

“When Indis saw Finwë climbing the paths of the Mountain, and the light of Laurelin was behind him as a glory, without forethought she sang suddenly in great joy, and her voice went up as a song of the lirulin [larks] in the sky. Then Finwë heard that song falling from above, and he looked up and saw Indis in the golden light, and he knew in that moment that she loved him and had long done so.”