Tolkien Meta Week Starts December 8!
Join us December 8-14, here and on Tumblr, as we share our thoughts, musings, rants, and headcanons about all aspects of Tolkien's world.
“Oh,” Elwing said faintly. She felt the need to sit down, but locked her knees against it. “Then—have they been released from Mandos, my lord? I had not heard that you came in person to deliver such news.”
“They have not, not yet,” said Námo, and to Elwing’s surprise his mouth softened into a small smile, there and gone again in the blink of an eye. “Your brothers are still very young; Mandos is not a place for children to grow. They are ready to return to the world, but unlike most others who pass through my halls they cannot make the journey across Valinor alone. Come to the gates of my halls with all swiftness, and you will find your brothers there.” He inclined his head, and was gone.
Elwing arrives on Vingilot, bearing news of the Third Kinslaying. Earendil and his sailors must make a choice.
Elrond loved most the scene painted behind their mother’s seat, a green forest glade decked with hemlock umbels and delicate niphredil, and Lúthien dancing in the center, her skirts blue as the morning sky and her hair like a dark shadow swirling around her as she spun, hands uplifted.
Elwing weaves for her children.