Short ficlet for my friend on deviantart.
I hope you'll enjoy it. :)
Dark and Light
When the light rose into the sky there was not much darkness left. It was no wonder that Eöl decided that Middle-Earth had turned its back towards him. He barely liked the snow and had been happy with the darkness and saw no need for the fuss caused by the silvery orb followed by the bright sheen that made his head ache and his eyes hurt. Happy that there were still dark forests left near his former house, he left for Nan Elmoth.
"Never again will I wish to see light," he vowed. "If I am to travel away from my forest I will do it during the short dark hours and rest beneath a cover during the light ones."
And so it was. The only light Eöl would accept was the red light of the fire, especially the fire in his smithy. Thus other Elves would call him a Dark Elf.
Then came the Deep Elves. Eöl didn't greet them, nor did he want to. Once when he was visiting the Halls of King Thingol he saw a Deep Elf from afar. That elf had a shining hair and glittering eyes. He was the long-lost great-nephew of the king. Just looking at him made Eöl's head pound.
"Really, there was no need for them to come here. They brought us nothing but war and enemies," Eöl thought bitterly. They called him a Dark Elf, too, but they said it with contempt or scorn. He isolated himself in the forest again, where no Noldo would trouble him any further. Even as some Elves of this more troublesome kind moved into the neighbouring lands of Nan Elmoth did Eöl have no reason to worry about them. They knew their borders and would not venture into his dark lands.
And Eöl continued with his life – there was nothing missing in it, he thought. He crafted great designs, had great inventions, and he even managed to have some aquintances in the Naugrim. In fact, Eöl was rather happy. He lived with his folk in peace and let the others wage their wars, slay each other and battle an enemy that was none of Eöls business.
Eöl was of a silent nature. He took great pleasure in thinking to himself, either contemplating the surrounding quiet and darkness or planning his next forged masterpiece. He liked walking in the dark woods, sitting by a tree and watch the dark ripples in the murky water as the stream sent the leaves and needles northwards.
One day when he was sitting by a tree he sensed something in the periphery of his vision. His head started automatically pound as something white moved amidst the trees. Was it an animal? Maybe a rabbit in its wintery fur, maybe an albino mongrel of a deer, maybe a hound of those Noldor that lived up north? Maybe a lost wraith of the Great Enemy? Eöl was grateful for having a short knife with him – a knife he had made by himself, of course. "Who's there?" he shouted out, to know whether the disturbing shade was a beast or of Elf-kind. The white silhouette that had so far merely been circling the tree-trunks in a forgetful manner halted, and suddenly cast something dark over itself. Eöl's head-ache left immediately, and he rubbed his eyes. But he still had to investigate the mysterious sheen he had seen.
A thick mantle was lying on the ground, the white wraith apparently hiding beneath the mossy green clothing. Eöl now assumed it was an Elf-like creature after all. He gripped the green cloak and pulled it back, but the cloak was bigger than he had expected, and the one who hid beneath it held onto it with an unexpected force. But at last Eöl let go. With a soft whimper, the cloaked figure lowered its hood, only to reveal a bushy dark black hair. Eöl was happy that the figure was dark-haired. Thus this stranger was likely not to be related to those nephews of Thingol and to the Newcomers from west.
"Do what you will, Dark Elf," the stranger muttered, "I have wandered in this cursed forest for days, so you might as well kill me if you won't lead me out."
"You immediately assume I am a murderer?" Eöl asked. "That is interesting. However, you are wrong. I am the Lord of these lands. And who are you, lost being?"
Then the cloaked figure with the dark hair looked up, and Eöl's eyes hurt again. The stranger was a woman, an Elf, with a face pale as snow, and a gown just as white. And then she opened her eyes.
The woman stood up in her full stature, raised her head and looked Eöl straight in the eye. "I am Aredhel of the Noldor," she said. Despite never having liked snow nor those new lights in the sky, Eöl had never had much in particular against the stars, although he visited the outskirts of his Forest so seldom he rarely saw those silvery glimmers. But in the grey eyes of this Elf who now stood before him in the forest that until now had been nothing but darkness, he could see the stars. And they were beautiful. And when Aredhel let her cloak drop from her shoulders her clothing was glimmering, not annoying like the shine of the Moon, not painful like that of the Sun, but beautiful and brilliant like Silver. And when Aredhel finally took his hand and allowed herself to be lead to the warmth of his house, Eöl ignored the fact that she was a Deep Elf. For once he was happy for the light; for once he was happy that the Noldor had brought the Light with them.