The Foretelling
Disclaimers: Everything belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and his estate. I own nothing, intend no infringement of copyright, and am making no money by this.
Rating: PG.
Summary: "But it is said that not until that hour had such cold thoughts ruled him; for indeed she whom he had loved was Amarië of the Vanyar, and she was not permitted to go with him into exile." The War of the Jewels p.44. A rather different view on the separation of Finrod and Amarië.
Feedback is very welcome.
Thanks to Lalaith for betaing this.
Do you see now, child? Do you see that it is impossible?
Ah, yes, the light is in your eyes. You do understand.
More bitter this is to me than you ever can know, or your grief allow.
There are many moments of uncertainty amid the storied webs of time? Aye, you speak true, pityonya. But it cannot be. Such willful love is yours. And I wonder if we shall ever know you in truth, children born of earth and dust as you are, and yet so proud and pure.
It cannot be, I tell you, child. His fate lies before him, and neither you nor I can gainsay it.
Nay, you must not tell him, must not sway him, must not stop him.
You saw scarlet blood befouling his golden hair? Aye, that I showed you, a vision fell and foul. I know, I know, child: your life for his, your death for his. Thus lies the way of things when love is kindled between the children of Iluvatar.
Aiii… weep not, little Vanya, much though I know of grief and tears, this woe ill becomes his sacrifice. Aye, rail if you will, for it may be that your angry words will balm your heart.
But this path is set for him, as the courses of the starry heavens, and his tale shall be numbered amongst the greatest of deeds. Small comfort, I know, but the fogs of Morgoth lie upon us, and it is not given even to those of my kindred to see all that comes to pass beyond their shadows.
You weep again, little one, and your sight is misted. And yet before your eyes, his task, his doom, is set, as imperative words writ in stone, and no mists can shroud your knowing.
He must be free to fulfil his oath, and go with glad heart into the darkness.
It must seem the unkindest wonder that I can speak so lightly of your grief. And time shall not heal your wounds, neither the passing of the years or the slow run of the turning seasons. But gladly he shall go, and meet the dawn and the dying, and the oath fulfilled, and the light awoken. Would you deny him that, dear child? Would you, by love's unjust justice, deny all life that ever might be in Arda Marred?
Noble he is, and fair, and thus is allotted to him a task beyond the telling. If you were to stop him… If he were to fail for love of you, of the home he built with you in far lands…
It cannot be.
But this comfort I offer you: that, for love of you, and remembered joy in love returned, he will linger not long in the shadowed darkness of the Halls. He will walk you once more beneath the golden leaves.
FINIS