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tolkienshortfanworksAuthor: Aerlinn
Author notes: Nur-Menel is a name for the Lesser Firmament, Varda's dome above Aman that imitates the real stars (but closer, brighter). Which is to say; this is more or less the later Round World verse, where the sun did exist from the start (but was not always visible from either Valinor or because of Morgoth). ETA: LOL AU because I forgot Morgoth introduced lying in Valinor (I think being familiar with false rumours... is somewhat relevant...). WELL. My only excuse is that I wrote this in 10 minutes. :(
The deed done, they thought they understood evil.
Gone were the white beaches of Valinor, bloodied in memory forever. Gone were weapons resting as props rusting in old storehouses, relics of the First Night brought out only for sport and the staging of stories.
No more games, these. The stars here are real. Nur-menel draws back and black Heaven lifts her veil. Seen now, the cold light of distant planets, bright the burn of a sun hidden often behind Morgoth's black fumes. Vása, they call her, the Consumer; and flesh cool and pale beneath Laurelin's bright gold turns pink and sensitive beneath this distant Balrog's glare. But it is good, too, to feel so keen a burn, to know so warm a light and know it to be no simulacrum. And the light is just light, untouched, unimitated; babes born beneath these distant fires catch no stars in their eyes, and their eyes are deeper for it. That too seems, briefly, like a part of freedom.
When the Crown Prince goes to parlay, they expect him to return. The gods have not been wholly truthful or fair, but when they lied it was by careful omission, the darkness their brother. A prince of the Noldor does not think of this possibility of deceit, not like this, no matter what brutality he may inflict; why would he, when words are what shapes. No name is used twice among them then, for the world is young and has room for new sounds still. Honour is so very important, then, an anchor to the songs that place them in the world; easier to imagine more theft and murder than this kind of deceit. He is the King, now, but doesn't like to hear it. He goes to parlay.
-
Nelyafinwë is a formidable speaker, an unchallenged voice at court and in the city. Few are the times when someone has spoken against him and prevailed. His form is fair, his words carefully chosen and meticulously crafted. Though they have already had a taste of violence and grief, things are simple still, or so they will seem later. It is complicated enough for now, torn between rage, distrust, devastation and the habits of a people for whom the stars themselves were brought nearer to the earth. When one called the wind, it answered. The veil they tore when they crossed the Sea has silenced the world in a way they still don't understand, and put them into a story they don't or don't want to understand yet. Even their dreams are strange now, without a god to guide them. Adrift, wandering into the gaping maw of a meaningless world where every patch of land will need to be tilled, every year counted.
It will be a while before they start counting.
-
For now, they can still believe the world has a certain order, works in a way they can understand; that when they speak, it listens.
-
The prince departs come morning.
Title: Innocence
Characters: Maedhros, the Noldor as a people
Text type / Format: ficlet
Source / Fandom: Silm
Rating: General
Warnings: n/a
Word Count: 495
Summary: Maedhros goes to parlay with Morgoth. How different the world they imagined must have been.Author notes: Nur-Menel is a name for the Lesser Firmament, Varda's dome above Aman that imitates the real stars (but closer, brighter). Which is to say; this is more or less the later Round World verse, where the sun did exist from the start (but was not always visible from either Valinor or because of Morgoth). ETA: LOL AU because I forgot Morgoth introduced lying in Valinor (I think being familiar with false rumours... is somewhat relevant...). WELL. My only excuse is that I wrote this in 10 minutes. :(
The deed done, they thought they understood evil.
Gone were the white beaches of Valinor, bloodied in memory forever. Gone were weapons resting as props rusting in old storehouses, relics of the First Night brought out only for sport and the staging of stories.
No more games, these. The stars here are real. Nur-menel draws back and black Heaven lifts her veil. Seen now, the cold light of distant planets, bright the burn of a sun hidden often behind Morgoth's black fumes. Vása, they call her, the Consumer; and flesh cool and pale beneath Laurelin's bright gold turns pink and sensitive beneath this distant Balrog's glare. But it is good, too, to feel so keen a burn, to know so warm a light and know it to be no simulacrum. And the light is just light, untouched, unimitated; babes born beneath these distant fires catch no stars in their eyes, and their eyes are deeper for it. That too seems, briefly, like a part of freedom.
When the Crown Prince goes to parlay, they expect him to return. The gods have not been wholly truthful or fair, but when they lied it was by careful omission, the darkness their brother. A prince of the Noldor does not think of this possibility of deceit, not like this, no matter what brutality he may inflict; why would he, when words are what shapes. No name is used twice among them then, for the world is young and has room for new sounds still. Honour is so very important, then, an anchor to the songs that place them in the world; easier to imagine more theft and murder than this kind of deceit. He is the King, now, but doesn't like to hear it. He goes to parlay.
-
Nelyafinwë is a formidable speaker, an unchallenged voice at court and in the city. Few are the times when someone has spoken against him and prevailed. His form is fair, his words carefully chosen and meticulously crafted. Though they have already had a taste of violence and grief, things are simple still, or so they will seem later. It is complicated enough for now, torn between rage, distrust, devastation and the habits of a people for whom the stars themselves were brought nearer to the earth. When one called the wind, it answered. The veil they tore when they crossed the Sea has silenced the world in a way they still don't understand, and put them into a story they don't or don't want to understand yet. Even their dreams are strange now, without a god to guide them. Adrift, wandering into the gaping maw of a meaningless world where every patch of land will need to be tilled, every year counted.
It will be a while before they start counting.
-
For now, they can still believe the world has a certain order, works in a way they can understand; that when they speak, it listens.
-
The prince departs come morning.
