Author: Scheherazade
Title: Beyond the Metamorphosis
Summary: In the First Age of the Stars, Melkor (an evil greater even than Sauron) captured a group of newly born elves. One of them was ready to fight for his life—and for the love he'd left behind.
Disclaimer: Not mine, even if I wish really really hard. If that technique worked, I'd be in Neverland right now...or have Draco Malfoy in my room…^_~
A/N: Ahhhh! Ahhh! I got reviews! Hoo hah…hoo hah… Ok, I want to thank Sunsong, Philippa, and Daisy Brambleburr for reviewing and making little amateur me happy; you guys have the honor of being my first-ever reviewers! ::hands out party hats::
Ok. About my story. It takes place in a relatively open period, and any information I have here is open to contest (not that I'm inviting you). Yes, I did research, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it's accurate. Tell me in an email or a review or something if you think something is inaccurate and should be changed. I know Finwe only had three sons, but for the sake of my story, he has four. Amaniel is my creation as well. On average, a chapter might come once a week, depending on how hectic I get.
Now that I've bored you enough…CHAPPY TWO!
Finturi paced the distance between the two trees, occasionally scuffing the toe of his boot in the lush grass. It brushed about his ankles, waving gently in the wind as if underwater. He had come early to their special meeting spot, rehearsing in his head the words he intended to say—if only he could keep his wits about him. The sunshine softly enveloped the young elf in the innocent caress of a sun that knows little of the pain that its earthbound children would one day face. It was a sun that rarely had the need to hide itself in anguish behind a webbing of cloud, and shone all the more brightly for this privilege. However, thoughts of the young sun were the farthest thing from Finturi's mind that afternoon.
He remembered his half-brother Fëanor's teasing from earlier that morning, and smiled.
"Ah yes, young Finturi-" (Fëanor adopted a solemn expression at this) "you are meeting the lovely maiden Amaniel this afternoon, are you not?"
Finturi blushed, his fair cheeks tinged the pale pink of a conch shell.
"We…may have something planned." Fëanor raised his eyebrow delicately.
"Well, whatever "something" you may have planned, be sure to give her my regards. After all, you're not the only prince who knows beauty when he sees it." Finturi sputtered, embarrassed. He made a move to cross his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture when Fëanor grabbed his hand, laughing.
"You know I jest with you, Finturi," he said. "I only envy your luck at having found love so early. It is a gift." Finturi nodded, his jet hair spilling over his shoulders.
"She is the one who gives the stars their light and the birds their song," he said, gazing past Fëanor in the direction of the secret meeting spot, hidden among the trees. He could see Amaniel clearly in his mind, from the strength in her smile to the thick brown hair twined into a long braid down her back. Fëanor smiled at his younger half-brother's faraway expression.
"Then tell her," he said. "Tell her before one of the other sons of King Finwë decides to claim her!" Laughing, he leapt out of Finturi's reach and raced away, his inherent elven grace apparent in his long strides.
Shaking his head at the memory, Finturi resumed his pacing. Running his plan once more through his head, he glanced up at the sun to discern the time. His shadow, keeping stride along beside him had begun to lengthen and distort. Amaniel should be there any moment.
Suddenly, a tinkling laughter broke out behind him, and Finturi stopped moving abruptly. He turned to see Amaniel standing between two towering oaks, grinning broadly.
"By the sound of it, you'll have worn a rut into the ground with all that pacing," she said, stepping into the sunlight. Finturi's breath caught in his chest.
"Cormamin lindua ele lle," he finally managed. "It is good to see you."
A small shadow crossed Amaniel's face before she laughed again.
"I wish I could say the same to you, Finturi," she said, gesticulating at her eyes. Milky and opaque, they stared blankly out at a personal unending night.
The lady Amaniel was blind.
Finturi reached out and grasped her hand impulsively; he could feel her stiffen and then relax under his touch.
"I will be your eyes today, with your consent," he said softly. Amaniel paused.
"If that is what you so desire," she replied eventually. Slowly they turned and began to walk through the trees, threading a path both obviously knew well. They moved in silence for a while, two shadows amid the green watchfulness of the forest. Suddenly Amaniel turned, pulling her hand from Finturi's.
"I had another dream, Finturi," she said, biting her lip. "You were in it this time. I recognized your voice." He sighed gently.
"Another premonition, you think?"
"I don't know, it's possible. They come more often now, these dreams. And they have become steadily darker. I feel a great weight laid upon me now every time I sleep."
"But Amaniel…how can you be sure what you see when you've never had a single glimpse of the world?"
Amaniel inhaled sharply. Her braid danced angrily as her delicate face contorted with frustration.
"Just because I cannot see this world does not mean I am not conscious of it! I know what I dream, whether you choose to believe me or not! Maybe they are just disconnected, meaningless nightmares…but they're so real…" she turned away. Finturi stood, shocked by her vehemence. Then, tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. To her credit, she didn't flinch.
"Tell me about what you saw."
She took a moment to respond.
"At first, it was beautiful. You and I were together, dressed in fine garments, surrounded by this vibrant, vivid color…I can't name it…the color of the way the earth smells after rain."
"Green?"
"Perhaps. Anyway, the—green—began to die. Slowly at first, it was just fading away becoming the dark I usually know…and you were being changed by it. Warped. You became twisted and smelled of anger and hate, and your hands were cold against mine, and you said—you said to me—"
Finturi stepped closer.
"What did I say?"
"You said 'Amaniel…could you still love me like this?' and then I woke up with this sense of terrible loss choking me like a stone. I've never felt so lonely in my life."
Finturi pulled Amaniel closer into a hug.
"You will never be lonely," he murmured against her hair. "I promise you, melamin." He hesitated, then spoke again.
"Do you think…do you think you would mind so much if…I were your eyes? It seems a small trade, as you are my heart, and my joy." He held his breath.
Amaniel smiled.
"Leave the poetry to me," she whispered. "I'm so much better at it." And with that, she pulled his lips down to meet hers.
For a moment, all darkness fled save their intertwined shadows on the grass beside them.
Cormamin lindua ele lle: My heart sings to see thee
Melamin: My love
All Elvish comes from this site:
Tell me what you think of my (unedited) mumbo-jumbo…