This tapestry is one that makes me sad. Perhaps it will make you sad too, and see another dimension to the whole Silmaril business...
#010 I Am Still Here
Statues Standing Still
Nerdanel Mahtaniel sat in her studio, a room made of marble with thin windows making slits in the wall. Beams of light sliced through the cool studio, illuminating the dust motes that floated about lazily in the air and came to rest on the bent head of fire.
Her hands clenched a chisel and hammer, spasming around their handles. A block of marble stood in front of her, patiently awaiting a transformation. For a long moment, there was no sound but that of breathing and the wind; then slowly Nerdanel stood, lifting the chisel and hammer and placing the, against the marble.
For hours she worked, the hammer never stopping its furious pounding and the breathing never faltering, coming even and deep. Each strike was an outlet of anger, betrayal, weariness, sorrow, and pain, all mingled together. Chips of rock flew into the air, slivers scattered on the floor, and dust powdered everything nearby in a fine cloak of snow in the cool room.
Finally the tools were dropped, clattering to the ground from aching, nerveless fingers. The block of marble seemed to take life, turning away from the agonized gaze of the elleth coldly. Its hand stretched behind it as though rejecting something or tossing it away, and then froze once more into a grey statue. But Nerdanel saw it continue on before it faded from her view, and in a paroxysm of grief fell to her knees in front of the sculpture, bursting into wracking sobs.
The stature stood still, not caring that it was tossing away her heart, frozen into her heart, mind, and soul as she pounded the floor with her fists, tears melting the slivers of icy marble under her bruised fingers. Grey snow powdered her from her work and slowly froze her heart, causing her to slowly crumple into a statue, weeping weakly.
And thus Mahtan found her, two statues standing still in the fading light of the dim studio. His head bowed in grief as he looked upon the two, forever immortalized through the rest of the Ages- forsaker and forsaken.
"Clay...life; plaster, death; marble, immortality." -Ian Hamilton Findlay.
This made me almost sob. People always think of Fëanor, but not Nerdanel... What did she do when she was left alone, forsaken and forgotten? Maybe something like this... Plus, I had to make some sort of reference to the whole 'Nerdanel's sculptures were said to look life-like' deal.
Wow, ten already! Nine drabbles and a one shot. This one was 357 words.