The Dyer's Vat by Himring
Fanwork Notes
This was written for the Bollywood Challenge. The prompt I was given was the song of Balam Pichkari (video here and lyrics here). More on this in the end notes.
One of the original characters is disabled (hinted at to be due to the earlier war in Beleriand).
Warning for major character death and canon-typical violence.
Fanwork Information
Summary: A minor incident during the Fall of Eregion: no, this is not about the Gwaith-i-Mirdain or Celebrimbor, it is about the Dyers' Guild. Not one for the history books, but the Eldar remember... Major Characters: Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Elrond, Elves Major Relationships: Genre: General Challenges: Bollywood Rating: Creator Chooses Not to Rate Warnings: Check Notes for Warnings |
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Chapters: 1 | Word Count: 913 |
Posted on 20 July 2024 | Updated on 28 July 2024 |
This fanwork is complete. |
The Dyer's Vat
Read The Dyer's Vat
Elrond was treating a severely wounded patient under a hawthorn bush with inadequate equipment, because he had no other options, when the patient began to laugh. Elrond feared that the patient was having a hysterical fit or was even losing his mind—sadly, neither was uncommon among the pitifully few inhabitants of sacked Ost-in-Edhil that Elrond’s forces had been able to gather up on their retreat. This patient was one of those who had somehow managed to flee a sheer unbelievable distance from the city walls before the effects of shock wore off, the damage of internal bleeding caught up, and they collapsed in a heap.
But his laugh seemed to be a genuine one, a hearty chuckle that faded into a grin. Grateful, but puzzled, Elrond sat back on his heels, swiping the back of his wrist tiredly across his sweaty forehead.
‘Don’t move,’ he said, almost automatically, to be on the safe side. ‘Save your strength.’
‘I have not much strength left to save,’ the patient answered, composedly. ‘You are Lord Elrond. I must tell you a story before it runs out.’
‘It would be better for you to rest,’ Elrond admonished him, but he could already see that the need to speak was going to prove stronger and, besides, he could not honestly promise that the story could wait until later. So, instead, he concentrated on easing the patient into a position in which speaking would place less strain on him.
*
I am Merengrui, the patient began, speaking softly and occasionally stopping for breath. You do not know me, but I think you did meet my guild master, Quiletirme, head of the Dyer’s Guild? Once we knew of the danger Sauron posed, everyone encouraged her to evacuate and, when we knew he was approaching with his army, we all pleaded with her again to flee. But she was stubborn and would not budge.
A woman with only one foot should not attempt to run for her life, she said.
And I… She was my guild master and I loved her. I did not join the evacuation, and I also did not join Celeborn’s sortie, as I had been tempted to do. Instead, we made plans as best we could. In the end, nothing really went to plan, of course. I hope that at least one or two of the apprentices who insisted on staying and helping us got away alive.
Most of the city’s resistance must have been brought low already by the time our Enemy got around to paying attention to the Dyers’ Hall. There was only Quiletirme and myself and one other guild member still there. We managed to hold off the first onslaught of the orcs, first with the catapults that we had set up and, after that, Quiletirme firing her crossbow and us other two shooting at a faster pace with our longbows.
Then Sauron himself advanced on us. He came by himself, towering imposingly in the doorway, and I imagine he thought he would cow and crush us in a moment, one Noldo on crutches and two young Sindar. But Quiletirme had a trick up her sleeve that she had kept just for him. She pulled a lever, just as Sauron was passing under the lintel, and a cauldron of scalding hot dye emptied itself over him and then fell on top of him.
Unfortunately, the Abhorred One had warded himself well. The boiling hot liquid just sizzled off him harmlessly, and the heavy cauldron hit his craggy helmet with an almighty clang and bounced away. But what he had not thought to ward himself against was pigment. The dye was a lurid pink and it had drenched him from head to foot.
You would not think that a monstrous killer could be so vain. After all, he had practically been wading through blood and body parts before he got to us and was liberally stained with soot. But even though his face was now bright pink, you could tell that Quiletirme had hit a mark.
She had not discussed it with us, but I do not doubt her choice of colour had been quite deliberate. She was very close with a couple of the Jewel-smiths who had worn lesser rings, you see, and had experienced their pain and horror intimately. She also remembered Sauron from the past, in Tol Sirion, I think. And I suppose she must have had an inkling how he might react to such an affront.
He threw a tantrum, there and then, and it blew up the building. I hope that Quiletirme died instantly. My own memory, from that moment on, is hazy, but I think Sauron’s fit of temper blew me straight through the wall and quite some distance away…
You see why I had to tell you the story, Lord Elrond? I will follow my guild master soon enough, with few regrets.
But this one thing must not be forgotten: Sauron inflicted unimaginable suffering on us all. Quiletirme did not manage to do him any physical harm. But she did manage to dye him pink. And so that joke, at least, was on him. I remember the stunned expression on his face, as he realized…
*
A gust of wind shook the hawthorn bush and scattered a few dry leaves across Merengrui. He fell silent, smiling, and did not speak again. Despite anything Elrond could do, he died that night.
Chapter End Notes
The video involves people spraying each other with water and throwing brightly coloured powder at each other so that they come out purple, blue or pink. (The scene is set during the festival of Holi.) The lyrics emphasize the pink colour in particular. In one translation of the lyrics (the one in the video) the reference to the spraying comes out as "when you colored me with a water gun". I've obviously removed the element of flirtation and celebration from this interaction! And I displaced the love between the protagonists onto the love the narrator has for Quiletirme.
The names are from Chestnut's great name list, which they have generously shared:
Quenya: Quiletirmë, color-guardian; Sindarin: Merengrui, joyous color.
Yes, these may be names they acquired as part of their role in the guild, especially in Quiletirmë's case.
Point to Quiletirmë. Not…
Point to Quiletirmë. Not only did she dye Sauron pink, someone managed to pass the tale on...
Indeed! Elrond knows now and…
Indeed! Elrond knows now and I imagine he started to pass on the tale while he was besieged with the others in Rivendell...
Thank you for reading, Grundy!
I hope they had time to…
I hope they had time to immortalize the tale in song. Songs.
Few Elves can do much to hurt such a powerful Ainu. But the dyers clearly succeeded. The story reminds me of Fingolfin and Morgoth -- well, in a way.
Quiletirmë is feeling very…
Quiletirmë is feeling very flattered by the comparison to Fingolfin, but fears that Sauron managed to rid himself of the pinkness a lot more quickly than Morgoth did of his limp!
Elrond is about to found Rivendell, so perhaps it could have become the subject of an early tra-la-la-lally song?
I cannot tell you how much…
I cannot tell you how much joy it gives me to imagine Sauron being DYED PINK
this is the BEST thing and i desperately hope that elrond tells this story to hobbits
I am glad that you are, so…
I am glad that you are, so to speak, tickled pink by the idea!
I wasn't quite sure how anyone with an interest in Mairon would feel about this piece.
I suspect Bilbo will sniff the tale out, even if Elrond doesn't make a point of telling it to him directly.
Pink Sauron, I can imagine…
Pink Sauron, I can imagine his temper tantrum at that.
Good for them! Point for the elves! They clearly won that fight!
Well, they didn't win the…
Well, they didn't win the fight exactly, perhaps, but they did gain their point, as you say!
Glad this fic worked for you, thank you!
Oh this made me all sorts of…
Oh this made me all sorts of emotional
loved it!
Thank you very much, Shadow!
Thank you very much, Shadow!
Oh dammit all! This was…
Oh dammit all! This was almost so sweet and I almost wanted to laugh but the whole damn thing just hurt so much!!! 😭
*sniffles* well done.
Thank you! I'm very pleased…
Thank you!
I'm very pleased you felt for them and I'm sorry it hurt.
🌈
What a blend of joy and sadness! Quiletirmë certainly made Sauron ridiculous when she went.
Thank you for commenting in…
Thank you for commenting in both places!
Mouah ah ah, quelle…
Mouah ah ah, quelle humiliation pour l'Admirable !
It was certainly not…
It was certainly not anything he had expected at this point!
LOL, that's a fabulous way…
LOL, that's a fabulous way to get at a vain bastard like Sauron! I love it.
Thank you! I'm glad it…
Thank you! I'm glad it appealed to you!
What a delightful read! You…
What a delightful read! You managed to make me feel sad for these characters and laugh out loud at the same time.
The mental image of this will haunt me (in the best way) XD
Edit: I like to imagine even Námo Mandos himself was chuckling just a little when he received our Elven heroes' souls
Thank you very much for such…
Thank you very much for such a wonderful comment!