DISCLAIMER, NOTE: Anything recognizable belongs to Tolkien. The website Council of Elrond was used for Quenya. The characters are part of my story, A Time of Healing: Ancient Wounds, but this little piece is separate, and not an excerpt. I wrote it for a challenge on another website.
Fire: The Nature of Evil
Vanimë turned towards her sister, Vanië, the hint of sadness upon her fine features. They had taken shelter underneath the ledge of a rock, huddling around the small fire they managed to get alight. The sisters were not learned in the ways of surviving in the wilderness, and now they were beginning to doubt their self ordained banishment from their sire's house. It was not as if they were new to being banished, having earned a probable permanent exile from their home, Valinor, by the Valar no less. But this most recent expulsion stung in ways they did not imagine. Had they known of these perils beforehand, Vanimë judged that she and her sister would have reluctantly continued to suffer in silence. They were noble ladies, princesses in their own rights, not roughened and seasoned for the dangers in the wilds of the young Middle-earth. Though now, each Caranthiriel (daughter of Caranthir) appeared more roguish than regal, their faces smudged, dresses torn, hair unruly.
"The nature of evil, you ask?" Vanimë repeated her sister's question carefully.
The older sister gazed upon her younger sibling with softness in her gray eyes, pitying her. So much had they gone through, suffering through the Kin-slaying in Alqualondë and crossing over the miserable icy pass of Helecaraxë, watching Fingolfin as he realized the betrayal that occurred, yet being powerless to change anything. Since that fateful day in the blessed city of the Teleri, Vanië was not the same, choosing to become introspective. Her wont was to be quiet and thoughtful, reflecting on things said and actions taken, but now her demeanor was beyond that. Each day Vanimë saw her sister retreating further and further into herself, and it pained and frightened the older Noldo.
"Indeed, for of late I have begun to wonder if there was something that could have been done to prevent all this, if there was some small semblance of a sign we had overlooked." Vanië said.
A sudden crackling from the fire startled them both.
"It is like fire," Vanimë began, curbing her erratic breathing while her heart pounded on rapidly.
She then rose to retrieve two blankets from the saddlebags, throwing one carefully over the orange flames to her sister. She then placed herself at her sister's side, laying her younger sister's head in her lap. Vanië raised an eyebrow, sighing from exhaustion. Vanimë would always begin an explanation cryptically, much to the irritation of her sister. She began to comb through Vanië's dark hair with her hands, feeling a slight pang of jealously as she felt the silken strands beneath her fingertips, so unlike the crisper nature of her own hair. In all ways Vanimë seemed to have attracted the rawer rougher qualities of their sire, while Vanië was the opposite, soft and sweet as their mother.
"Fire is not a mechanism of darkness, rather it lights our surroundings, bringing us warmth and hope. See how he huddle around it now, feeding off its radiation? We do not dare to creep to the edges, for who knows what lurks there beyond its borders. So here we stay, in supposed safety."
Vanië felt a sudden chill pass through her as Vanimë spoke those words.
"When does fire become evil, then?" Vanië asked.
"When its purpose becomes for greed, and domination…"
The younger Elf maiden shuddered, trying to imagine a cruel face in the dancing flames of their small fire, but none appeared.
"Then Light can also be twisted?" Vanië breathed.
Vanimë gripped her sister's shoulder tightly, unsure of how to phrase her response. Of late Vanië was showing more signs of delicacy, and at times even the simplest tasks proved to be a challenge for her. Vanimë found herself becoming sterner, pushing her sister along, and sometimes even resorting to physical or verbal means. Vanië would burst into tears at unexpected times, which worried her sister even more. What could be said that would not seem too heavy for her sister to process, or too painful? Vanimë knew what Vanië referred to, and were it not for the promise they had made each other to speak nothing except for the truth Vanimë would not have answered.
"Light itself is pure, that will never change. But what our family did, that is evil. It begins innocently, all evil does, with an idea and desire for good deeds. Then the desire turns to coveting and possession, then domination. Once the coveting begins, that is the true nature of evil revealed. It is like the fire, at first one is content to absorb its warmth and bask in the protection it offers. Then once the realization is made that it can be used for more personal gains, the fire becomes a source of evil. Instead of keeping away dangerous animals, a rival's home is destroyed. The purpose of nár (fire) is then tarnished, corrupted. That is when it becomes evil, when anything becomes evil. And once the fire is awoken, there is nothing that can stop it."