Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine. The song of Kotirion is from the Book of Lost Tales, JRR. Tolkien. It is the 3rd stanza, edited by Christopher Tolkien. That would be the 2nd song. Guess who wrote the first one.
A/N: Managed to translate the song into Quenya with much help from people from the Council of Elrond. Anaire's character was not depicted, but I managed to get some idea through Gen_Eveningstar, thanks!
*~~~~~~~*
"Ammë, the stars are created by Varda aren't they? And why are we always moving West towards them?" "So many questions, titta quén, yea, the stars were created by Varda, and we are moving to the Blessed Realm, where the Valar awaits.""Who are the Valar?"
"They are the gods who beautified Arda. Do you not feel the wind blowing across your face? The soft feel of grass beneath your feet? The sweet dreams you have while asleep? Think you that they manifested themselves? Nay, the Valar created them."
Omentië as Fëanor ar Anairë ar titta Fingon
Words formed on her lips, and it soon turned into song.
I lindë lienyoI yaimië lammar maiwiva
I mirilyala langor luntion i hópassë
Panyainë Alqualondessë har i ëarAi! Valimar! Mi Alqualondë
Acca andavë amárienyë tar
Mi eressë yo eressë alquar ar ciryar
Oi caritas ni yerya, I lamma ëaro
And her song ended on a sweet note.
"Do you miss your home?" Finarfin asked.
"Yea." She replied uncertainly.
"You have a beautiful voice, it draws one like bees are drawn to nectar."
"You jest, my lord, 'tis no different from others. What did you seek me for?"
"Would you like to see the sights? I would be your guide."
"I would love to." She agreed at once, face shining in eagerness.
*~~~~~~~~~*
"And thither beyond lieth the gardens of Lorien, and then the halls of Mandos." He waved a hand vaguely due east.
Earwen thought she beheld a sparkling white gold jewel, and knew it to be the Garden of Lorien. For a fleeting moment a vision of herself in Lorien flashed across her mind. What was that supposed to mean?
"Tell me about your brothers." She begged, in a bid to distract herself.
"Fingolfin, as you have met, is unlike me. He is most hardy and valiant, and our temperaments are different, he is also steadfast, and true to his word. You can trust him to keep a secret, but not if it is a lie. Trustworthy is he. I love him greatly, both as a brother and a friend. His spouse is Anairë of the Vanyar."
"Fëanor is my half brother, son of Miriel Serindë the weaver, and his wife is Nerdanel daughter of Mathan. His skill at craft is great, and none can surpass it, save Aulë. He has a fiery fëa, and a quick temper. Have a care not to provoke him in any way. I love him not, nor had he ever tried to befriend us. He busies himself in the mines, and sees us seldom."
'Twas the first time he ever declared his unlove for Fëanor openly to anyone. He dared not say it even to his mother.
"Does that mean Finwë has two wives?" She asked, a perplexed expression on her face. Elves are always faithful to their spouse, but having two wives is unheard of.
"Nay! Miriel died after bearing Fëanor. It consumed her both in mind and spirit, and she recovered not."
"How hard it must have been for her." Fëanor looked at her in surprise. Here she was sympathizing with one she had not met before, and all he felt for Miriel was pity.
"We now face the Holy Mountain, Taniquetil, where Manwë and Varda resides."
They were facing the North, and the Highest Mountain of Pelơri. He heard her soft gasp of awe.
The fair radiance of Laurelin shone, 'twas a sight she never imagined she would behold. But her gaze remained on Finarfin's face, and for a fleeting second she thought him fairer than Laurelin.
*~~~~~~~~~*
The hour of the kindling of candles drew nigh. At this time the desire of new sights was the least in Eärwen's heart.
"Come, we will feast at my parents' house. The invitation extends to you."
"My lord, I have no wish to intrude."
"'Tis but a small family gathering, besides, surely you do not wish to refuse my mother?"
"Nay." His argument was not lost on her.
*~~~~~~~~*
The house of Finwë and Indis looked homely and beckoning. Delicious scents wafted by in tantalizing tendrils, and Eärwen's thoughts turned to that of food.
They met Fingolfin as they were crossing the threshold, and on his arm was a fair elf of the Vanyar.
"What a pleasure to meet you again, my lady. I trust you are enjoying your stay?" Fingolfin greeted her.
"Yea. This must be Anairë. Am I not wrong?" Earwen smiled at the wife of Fingolfin.
"You speak the truth. I would be delighted to make your acquaintance." Anairë replied just as warmly. Earwen's heart clenched, 'twas so long ever since someone smiled so warmly at her. Earwen had a compelling desire to befriend the elf.
It was then she happened to glance down and saw, a young elfling holding the hands of his parents, staring up at her in curiosity. His hair was a mass of dark curls, with several unruly locks tumbling across his face. And his eyes, they were a remarkable and brilliant blue, solemnly regarding her.
"What a beautiful elfiling! And your name?" She kneeled down so that she came level to him.
"My name is Fingon." He declared proudly, puffing up his chest. "Papa said it means 'brave'."
"Aptly named indeed", she said to Fingolfin and Anaire. And the parents smiled.
*~~~~~~~*
Indis welcomed them gladly, but she soon turned serious as she spoke to Fingolfin and Finarfin.
"Your half brother is present. Do not lose your temper to whatever he say." Indis warned the brothers. "I will have no discord among my sons."
They nodded grimly. And Fingolfin's expression resembled what one wore when going to battle.
Earwen thought, 'She regards Fëanor as her son, but does he treat her as his mother?"
Following them inside, Earwen found the interior of the house as grand as the outside. Marble steps led to the pavilion and the upper levels, rugs of the finest quality laid on the floors, tapestries of vibrant colors hung on the wall, each with it's own woven story. Candles lighted up the room, suffusing it with a warm glow.
Fëanor was tall, dark, with his Finwë's features and coloring. His eyes spoke of curiosity, unfriendliness and suspicion. His eyes burned with open hostility towards Fingolfin and Finarfin. At his side stood a tall elf maiden, who looked on curiously at Earwen.
"May I introduce to you my son, Fëanor." Said Finwë, with a distinct note of pride in his voice. 'Twas clear Fëanor had most of his father's love.
"And his wife, Nerdanel." The lady inclined her head politely.
"Who is she, Father?" His voice clear and crisp, addressing Finwë as though Earwen was not there, but his eyes never left her. His wife nudged him in disapproval, whilst smiling warmly at Earwen.
"Could it be Finarfin has finally wed?" She turned a questioning glance at Finarfin.
"Nay!" said Finarfin and Earwen together.
"I am Lady Wen of the Teleri, and have recently made acquaintance with Lord Finarfin." Earwen hastily put in, wanting to dispel any notion that they were wed. For some reason this irked Finarfin slightly.
"I see." Fëanor did not voice his displeasure, but his mouth formed a thin line.
"Is that so?" Nerdanel extended a hand of welcome. "It is seldom we receive guests from Alqualondë. How do you do?"
Earwen murmured a polite reply.
Apparently Fëanor cared not for anyone connected to his brothers. He sat down at the table, deliberately ignoring Fingolfin and Finarfin completely. Finwë looked awkward, as if he had expected his son to behave better in the presence of a guest.
In a bid to dissipate the tension, Indis sent for the food while everyone seated.
During the meal, Finwë inquired much of her father and her home, and Earwen felt uncomfortable, trying her best to dodge the subject. Fortunately, Indis skillfully veered the topic to safer grounds, and for that Earwen was grateful. Nerdanel and Anairë told amusing tales, making Earwen's heart light in the presence of these new friends.
Supper ended, and Earwen followed the ladies to a large room. The others have gone to another to discuss various matters, and Fingon insisted on tagging along.
There was a roaring fire and soft chairs. Each person settled into one, and for a moment they immersed in their individual thoughts, enjoying the presence of others, as was the custom after supper. Earwen felt honoured to be in the company of these ladies. Unconsciously she began comparing them to herself.
Lady Indis was statuesquely beautiful and Earwen thought her own looks could not compare to her, Lady Anairë had a softness about her that made her entrancingly feminine, and that, Earwen thought sadly, was something she always endeavored to be but could not. Lady Nerdanel was also very fair, and Earwen knew as a daughter of a smith, she most likely possessed many skills such as sewing.
"Lady Wen, is that really your name?" Anairë inquired.
"Nay, but I have need of secrecy, only Indis knows my real identity."
"I shall not press you about that then."
"You can trust Anairë and Nerdanel, Earwen." Said Indis.
Earwen hesitated, and then started to tell her tale of how she came here, her desire for excitement overcoming her fear of her father, and much more she had never thought she would reveal to anyone. Back at Alqualondë, there seemed to be none whom she could confide in, but here in Tirion, she had found three friends.
"You have much courage, to be able to leave the House of your father." Nerdanel remarked.
"I love the peace we have here in Valinor, but sometimes I wish there could be more opportunities for adventures." Anairë said.
"Enough of this! Come, we shall have some song before both of you start to entertain this absurd idea of adventures." Indis chuckled, before taking up the lute.
"'Tis said that when this fair city of Tirion was built, many songs were made for it."
"I lúmë sina ná ammelda i óren
Ar lúmë mára ana I yára osto
As sinta lalindalë vanya lencave
Lútula as lamina nyére maxave unduI tiei eressea hisieo. A moica lúmë
Íre Arin orta telwa as ringwëAr arinyë huini halya I vahaia taurë!
úcennë I Eldar lelyamas, nta cala loxenta
Nte collante mi tindómë undu muinë telmi
Collantar luini ve histë carnë mainenAr halcin silme carne mainen telpeva…"
"That was beautiful. My lady, you have a lovely voice."
"Come, now, you have divulged your secrets to us, why not dispense with formalities? Anairë calls me Indis, and I would like to be addressed as such by you too."
"If it is thy wish, Indis." Earwen was thrilled, for it meant acceptance and friendship she could never have found at Alqualondë.
*~~~~~~~~~*
English tranlation:
This is the season dearest to the heart
And time most fitting to the ancient town
With waning music sweet that slow depart
Winding with echoed sadness faintly down
The paths of stranded mists. O gentle time
When morning rises late with rimeAnd early shadows veil the distant woods!
Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hairThey cloak in twilight under secret hoods
Of gray, their dusk blue mantles grid with handsOf frosted starlight sewn by silver hands
*~~~~~~~*
Finch: I am looking forward to that moment too. Thanks for reviewing.
Gen_eveningstar: Thank you. I agree, the parents of Galadriel are great in stature, hopefully this chapter will not be too much of a disappointment. Thanks again!
Nadra/The March Hare: Oh my, I really have to be careful next time. All those errors especially the one about Mandos and Manwe! *Shudders* Thanks for pointing that out. But I got "miril" and "malta" from two online dictionaries, I hope it does not bother you much. Thank you for your lovely review anyway!
Isa: There really should be more F/E fics! Thanks.
Kaede: Thanks for the information. I have read the Unfinished tales already, but thanks anyway, it was what made me write this fic.
Elven Destiny: Thank you. Silmarillion fics are beautiful, and I am sure you will find many better ones out there. Thanks again.