"Tengwar" ficlets by chrissystriped

Súle - Spirit

Feanor makes the Silmarils.

Feanor took one of the empty gems in his hands. He was trembling with excitement. He was only steps away from finishing the greatest work he’d ever make — anyone would ever make!

He channelled his will and breathed on the gem-case in his hands, imbuing it with strength and power to hold the Light. The Treelight he’d asked from Varda stood ready and he poured it slowly into the case.

Feanor held his breath. It was Treelight and yet not, sparkling and dancing inside its new home, touching his fea, almost feeling alive.

“Silmaril”, he said softly, the name coming to his mind on its own.

Carefully he put the Jewel down to finish its brethren.