Title: Snowflake
Author: Elvenwanderer (aka Alyssa)
Rating: G
Completion: Chapter 1 of 1. Complete.
Warning: Not really anything too bad.
Disclaimer: The Tolkien estate owns the characters; I own the way the words are put together. The ideas are solely mine, for these stories are true to my life. I know... who thinks about the purpose of snowflakes? Me, apparently. I'm not really as pathetic as I sound... well, maybe I am. Ya never know.
Beta: none
Timeline: any time after the elves leave Middle-Earth
Notes: I am a hopeless Maglor fanatic.
Summary: Maglor ponders a snowflake during the first snowfall of the season.
**
My breath comes out as wispy grey fog before me, rising towards the sky to disappear among the clouds. As I look to once again survey its bleak journey, a single snowflake lands on my cheek. And then a second upon my forehead. These few meager flakes are the portents of a harsh winter to come. I can feel it. The very earth beneath my feet has braced against it.
With this first snowfall of the year, as with every other year, I am vaguely reminded of the first time I felt the sting of the fleeting cold upon my face and hands. My father and I were standing on the bridge of the Teleri flagship, gazing out over the turbulent gray seas before us. Thoughts and times were grim, for we had yet to see any land and the past events still weighed strongly on our minds. My mind, leastwise, for I do not know what ran through my father's head. I would not try to pretend to, either.
After that day, the snow became more commonplace, and I normally ceased to notice its presence. That was until one night while I was sitting, stranded in my chambers during a blizzard. A few wayward flakes squeezed into my room through the window, only to melt away into round droplets of water as they came near to the fire. Having been staring blankly at the hearth, an abandoned book on my lap, I looked away from the dancing red, gold and violet flames to witness the "death" of one such white-cloaked traveler. This made me wonder, are not snowflakes also Eruchîn?[1] Eru created the world; certainly such simple creatures as snowflakes would also have been made by Him?
This brought on the question of such a thing's purpose. Surely they did more than just provide a dissolvable plaything for the childlike? Did they know what their fate was when they chose to become snowflakes? Then again, do any of us know, really, where our lives will lead us years down the road? Are our fëar just placed in different bodies at random? Could I have been Curufin or Celegorm? Could either of them have been me? I wonder, then, if we would still be the same people either way?
Born in the bellies of the clouds, snowflakes mature before being released into the buffeting and confusing currents of the sky. They then fall to the earth, clinging for life to one another from the murderous warmth that surrounds them. Yet, in spite of this desperate struggle, none will live through the winter of their lives. Eru does not give them pity. Save for the fact that every winter they are reborn, if not more often.
This seems oddly akin to the fate of my people. We were born in the bliss of Valinor, and by making disastrously bad choices; we essentially pushed ourselves into the cruel, evil realm of Beleriand, from whence there would be no return. Uncountable thousands of the Quendi of many denominations met Mandos [2] in the battles of the First Age. They were killed in the darkness of the winter of their lives, before a joyous spring could again blossom around them. And still the winter is holding on with the jaws of a wolf, all of my people that were left departed across the Sea to Valinor long ago.
** Note:
[1] Eruchîn: Eru's children.
[2] Mandos: 1) A Vala who is the Elven god of the dead. 2) The Halls of Waiting where Elven spirits, or fëar go when they are de-housed.
Please review, all authors appreciate constructive criticism!
Author: Elvenwanderer (aka Alyssa)
Rating: G
Completion: Chapter 1 of 1. Complete.
Warning: Not really anything too bad.
Disclaimer: The Tolkien estate owns the characters; I own the way the words are put together. The ideas are solely mine, for these stories are true to my life. I know... who thinks about the purpose of snowflakes? Me, apparently. I'm not really as pathetic as I sound... well, maybe I am. Ya never know.
Beta: none
Timeline: any time after the elves leave Middle-Earth
Notes: I am a hopeless Maglor fanatic.
Summary: Maglor ponders a snowflake during the first snowfall of the season.
**
My breath comes out as wispy grey fog before me, rising towards the sky to disappear among the clouds. As I look to once again survey its bleak journey, a single snowflake lands on my cheek. And then a second upon my forehead. These few meager flakes are the portents of a harsh winter to come. I can feel it. The very earth beneath my feet has braced against it.
With this first snowfall of the year, as with every other year, I am vaguely reminded of the first time I felt the sting of the fleeting cold upon my face and hands. My father and I were standing on the bridge of the Teleri flagship, gazing out over the turbulent gray seas before us. Thoughts and times were grim, for we had yet to see any land and the past events still weighed strongly on our minds. My mind, leastwise, for I do not know what ran through my father's head. I would not try to pretend to, either.
After that day, the snow became more commonplace, and I normally ceased to notice its presence. That was until one night while I was sitting, stranded in my chambers during a blizzard. A few wayward flakes squeezed into my room through the window, only to melt away into round droplets of water as they came near to the fire. Having been staring blankly at the hearth, an abandoned book on my lap, I looked away from the dancing red, gold and violet flames to witness the "death" of one such white-cloaked traveler. This made me wonder, are not snowflakes also Eruchîn?[1] Eru created the world; certainly such simple creatures as snowflakes would also have been made by Him?
This brought on the question of such a thing's purpose. Surely they did more than just provide a dissolvable plaything for the childlike? Did they know what their fate was when they chose to become snowflakes? Then again, do any of us know, really, where our lives will lead us years down the road? Are our fëar just placed in different bodies at random? Could I have been Curufin or Celegorm? Could either of them have been me? I wonder, then, if we would still be the same people either way?
Born in the bellies of the clouds, snowflakes mature before being released into the buffeting and confusing currents of the sky. They then fall to the earth, clinging for life to one another from the murderous warmth that surrounds them. Yet, in spite of this desperate struggle, none will live through the winter of their lives. Eru does not give them pity. Save for the fact that every winter they are reborn, if not more often.
This seems oddly akin to the fate of my people. We were born in the bliss of Valinor, and by making disastrously bad choices; we essentially pushed ourselves into the cruel, evil realm of Beleriand, from whence there would be no return. Uncountable thousands of the Quendi of many denominations met Mandos [2] in the battles of the First Age. They were killed in the darkness of the winter of their lives, before a joyous spring could again blossom around them. And still the winter is holding on with the jaws of a wolf, all of my people that were left departed across the Sea to Valinor long ago.
** Note:
[1] Eruchîn: Eru's children.
[2] Mandos: 1) A Vala who is the Elven god of the dead. 2) The Halls of Waiting where Elven spirits, or fëar go when they are de-housed.
Please review, all authors appreciate constructive criticism!