Title: Like the ones of the Avari

Words: 626


As much as we are kin to one another, there are some things we cannot help but differ in. Sindar, Silvan and Avari are, after all, descendants from different cultures and traditions; different voyages and motherlands.

We all come together under the rule of the Elvenking, as people and perhaps as a new race.

But the Avari, although they dwell with us inside the caves, their ways lie deep in the woods as do their hearts. More often than not one would be able to find the house of an Avari in the forest rather than at the borders of the palace, where most of the other settlements are. I think they are wilder than any of us dare to be.

On occasion, and I would not speak ill of my kin but in fond jest, the Avarin people paint themselves with jealousy. I fear they feel those who live in the palace or close to it take too much of the king's time. As if the Silvan somehow hoarded him all to themselves. O! I laugh at the thought!

But there comes a time of secret celebration, when summer is yet to leave but the air smells of change, one no Sindar or Silvan is allowed to witness or partake in. The Avari retreat deep into the woods in secret. Here is when they take hold of their king, like dragons who hoard their treasures.

It is now time. Everyone who cares to attend stands by the other side of the river, just where the trees begin.

The Avarin elves lay hands all over the Elvenking as they all but disrobe him. Such a thing would be of the uttermost disrespect, but he lets them, just for the occasion. They dress him again, a light robe made of different strips of colored fabrics and over it a heavy cloak of forest leaves, moss, and twigs.

My father lowers his head, almost bending over as a short chieftess removes his crown of summer flowers and replaces it with a big and ostentatious one, made of many leaves and different feathers. She chants a blessing for the king and the Avari repeat it. Some of the other elves join in, myself included. As son of the king, I am to know all the tongues of our people.

An ellon gives me my father's crown to care for and bows to me in respect.

I smile and wonder as my father stands still, arms held in the air as the Avarin elves adorn him with riverstones, feathers, bones, and flowers.

He looks at me for a moment, his eyes seem darker in shade somehow. All Avarin eyes are darker in shade, for they shy away from the light. The king smiles at me. It is as if he were unraveling before me; he looks feral. The people mess with his hair and it looks as if he had spent weeks in the wilderness.

I hear the whispers of the people. It's our turn, he's ours now. The king is ready to depart. I cannot come, and neither can the Silvan or Sindar people. For half a moon cycle, no word will be heard of the king.

His subjects bow to him as he passes them; he nods to them in farewell. He turns before leaving with the Avarin people one last time and smiles at his people, sparing a smirk for me. They disappear into the trees to places unknown, places where only the Elvenking is allowed with them.

I wonder how much my father truly hides beneath his skin, in his eyes. Is he always of the Avari? Or does he pretend?

I remember the dark shade of his eyes and the answer is clear to me.


Sindar Translations:

Ellon: Elf-man

Other Concepts:

Of the children of Ilúvatar, when the elves were to return to the promised land across the sea, these are some of the races that stayed and are therefore considered less wise.

Avari: The unwilling. Elves who refused the Great Journey.

Silvan: The fu? Where did you guys went? Look, I'm super tired and I cant remember. They are descendants of the Teleri, distant cousins of the Sindar, stuff, I 'm tired.

Sindar: Grey-elves. Those who remained in Beleriand.


Abril: I'm tired, sorry for the lazy explanations, anyone care to fill in?

Anyway, hope you liked this, I did myself :) Please, please, feed me ideaaaaas.

Love to you all and, really, isn't this a miracle? It hasn't been ages since my last post!