AN: There is a companion story to this, called Spectrum; The Harpist's Tale, by Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl. We are working together on this project. The stories take place at the same time, and you will need to read both to understand what's going on in later chapters.
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Water was the first word I learned. I knew the feeling, the sensation, of it swirling around me, but I had no words to describe what I felt. Alone came soon after, and then cold. Dark was next. I was alone, cold, in the dark water. The first sentence in my mind was 'What was happening?' followed closely by 'Who am I?' There are no words to describe those first moments of consciousness, when I was flooded by words and thoughts, each one something new and exciting and terrifying.
There was pain, but it was not pain. I don't know how to describe it. Something was leaving me, something that had been with me since I was formed, and it hurt. Not the hurt that comes when you stub your toe, or cut your hand, or even the pain that comes when you lose someone you love, or they lose you.
I remember when another pain hit me. I was rising through the water, buffeted by forces that wanted to control me, as I had always been. I was thrown by the waves against something, and the word pain flashed through my mind as I opened my newly-formed mouth to scream. Water filled it, and another word entered my mind. Air. I needed air.
I don't remember the sensation of first moving my arms and legs, for my mind had latched onto the word air and held it so tight that nothing else could enter. The moment I broke through the surface and took my first gasp of air was the moment I first lived. My mind exploded. Hands. Fingers. Head. Hair. Eyes. Mouth. Nose. Sky. Sea. Land. Terror. It was almost enough for me to long to return to the depths where I had slept so long, but the will of the Valar is never to be ignored.
Ulmo's waves bore me to the land, and I lay on the beach, shivering with cold. Time did not yet hold any meaning for me, and so I do not know how long I was there. My head drifted to one side. The names building, house, cottage crowded into my mind as I looked at the structures made by mortal hands that were scattered farther up the beach. The tall dark walls were cliffs. The brightness in the sky was the sun, the last fruit of Laurelin. I felt her light seep into me, filling me with the same light I was made of.
Exhaustion is the next word I learn, and closing my eyes I let it claim me.