A/N: As I promised, longer. Elentari gets her other name here. The two
songs in here are not mine, unfortunately. One is by the talented Enya,
while the other one is by, like everything else I write about, the
ingenious JRR Tolkien. Please review! Encouragement is needed for a poor,
very bored girl trying to become a writer. Key word: trying, not
succeeding.
Chapter 4: Bound together by grief
Finduilas's death, if nothing else, bound Faramir and Elentari together. They were almost always together, pouring over a book of lore, making music, or engaging in swordplay. Boromir taught his two younger siblings everything he knew in the art of swords, and they often engaged in mock battles, during which Boromir would come out with the upper hand. Sometimes however, Elentari and Faramir would bind together and defeat Boromir, or, play some trick on him.
They were all deeply wounded by Finduilas's death, especially Denethor. He locked himself in his tower, deep in thought, foreseeing the doom of his City long before it occurred, but doing nothing to defend it.
Once every week, Faramir and Elentari would visit the Houses of the Dead, where their mothers were buried. However, visiting Ariethel's grave would never be as heartfelt as Finduilas's, for with the passing years, the children's memories faded also. Elentari had never remembered her mother, only knowing the name and the story Finduilas had once told her and Faramir those many years ago, by the fire. What a joyful time it seemed to them now. As much as they loved Finduilas, she too, began to fade from their minds, becoming a memory of loveliness and bliss.
Somehow, four years passed after Finduilas's death, four long, dreary years. Elentari was now nine, Faramir twelve, and Boromir, seventeen, in his mind, a man. He often left the City, with his father's permission and blessing, on missions with the rangers, leaving Faramir and Elentari alone.
Returning from one of his numerous missions in Osgiliath and Ithilien, Denethor threw a marvelous feast for his elder son, whom he loved dearly, and was the only thing he held on to. Amidst the feasting, with many courtesans and women flouting themselves past Boromir, trying to catch his eye, music was called for.
Faramir and Elentari were called forth, as it was widespread knowledge that the two of them were skilled in music and made each other better; Faramir with his lyre and Elentari with her fiddle, and both, with their voices raised in song.
Upon the prompting that they could sing whatever they wished, they looked at each other knowingly, and as Elentari began to play, Faramir sang:
I walk the maze of moments
but everywhere I turn to
begins a new beginning
but never finds a finish
I walk to the horizon
and there I find another
it all seems so surprising
and then I find that I know
You go there, you're gone forever
I go there I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
Faramir picked up his lyre and picked up right where Elentari left off with her fiddle, and in perfect harmony, Elentari sang:
The moon upon the ocean
is swept around in motion
but without ever knowing
the reason for its flowing
in motion on the ocean
the moon still keeps on moving
the waves still keep on waving
and I still keep on going
You go there, and you're gone forever
I go there, I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
I wonder if the stars sign
The life that is to be mine
And would they let their light shine
Enough for me to follow
I look up to the heavens
But night has clouded over
No spark of constellation
No Vela no Orion
Faramir joined her. Their voices moved in perfect harmony: You go there, you're gone forever
I go there I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
To leave the thread of all time
And let it make a dark line
In hopes that I can still find
The way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
Begin a new beginning
Still looking for the answer
I cannot find the finish
It's either this or that way
It's one way or the other
It should be one direction
It could be on reflection
The turn I have just taken
The turn I was making
I might be just beginning
I might be near the end.
They finished the haunting tune smiling to each other, evidently pleased with their own performance. Fervent applause greeted them and many older musicians commented on such skill at such a young age. Only Denethor looked down upon them scowling, evidently not pleased with such an obvious display of affection for each other, even at such a young age. He had long seen the affection growing between the two, and foresaw what it would lead to, and his heart was filled with foreboding. A dance began, Boromir, never without a dance partner, as most young women were eager to appease the future Steward, danced the night away, with his father looking, pleased and proud at his eldest son.
Faramir stayed with the musicians longer, with his lyre, not noticing Elentari slipping away.
What seemed like hours later, he too slipped out, searching for his dear friend and sister. He found her alone, stretched out on her back, gazing at the stars of Varda Elentari, her namesake, her melancholy voice drifting with the wind. The moonlight radiated off of her, making her shine like the Silmarils.
An Elven maid there was of old
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey
A star was bound upon her brows
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lórien the fair
Her hair was long; her limbs were white:
And fair she was and free
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree
Beside the falls of Nimrodel
By water clear and cool;
Her voice of shining silver fell
Into the shining pool
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore of Nimrodel,
And in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea
Wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from Elven-strands
Across the streaming tide
When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey;
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
The plumes of blinding spray
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now long beyond the swell
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel
Of old he was an Elven-king
A lord of limb and tree
When golden were the boughs of spring
In fair Lóthlórien
From helm to sea they saw him leap
As arrow from the string
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.
The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore
"Isilmë," Faramir whispered. Elentari turned her head, not sensing him there, "What?"
"Isilmë," Faramir repeated, "That is what I shall call you. The moonlight shines upon you."
"Isilmë. Isilmë," she repeated it for a few times, then a smile appeared on her lips, "I like it. Thank you Faramir. It's a beautiful name."
"Just as beautiful as you are," Faramir replied innocently. It was not a matter of flattery; he was merely speaking what his heart told him, as he always spoke the truth with her. He stretched himself out beside her and they looked upon the stars; the same stars Luthiên and Beren had those many years ago, in a past age, and sang softly together, until they drifted to blissful sleep.
Chapter 4: Bound together by grief
Finduilas's death, if nothing else, bound Faramir and Elentari together. They were almost always together, pouring over a book of lore, making music, or engaging in swordplay. Boromir taught his two younger siblings everything he knew in the art of swords, and they often engaged in mock battles, during which Boromir would come out with the upper hand. Sometimes however, Elentari and Faramir would bind together and defeat Boromir, or, play some trick on him.
They were all deeply wounded by Finduilas's death, especially Denethor. He locked himself in his tower, deep in thought, foreseeing the doom of his City long before it occurred, but doing nothing to defend it.
Once every week, Faramir and Elentari would visit the Houses of the Dead, where their mothers were buried. However, visiting Ariethel's grave would never be as heartfelt as Finduilas's, for with the passing years, the children's memories faded also. Elentari had never remembered her mother, only knowing the name and the story Finduilas had once told her and Faramir those many years ago, by the fire. What a joyful time it seemed to them now. As much as they loved Finduilas, she too, began to fade from their minds, becoming a memory of loveliness and bliss.
Somehow, four years passed after Finduilas's death, four long, dreary years. Elentari was now nine, Faramir twelve, and Boromir, seventeen, in his mind, a man. He often left the City, with his father's permission and blessing, on missions with the rangers, leaving Faramir and Elentari alone.
Returning from one of his numerous missions in Osgiliath and Ithilien, Denethor threw a marvelous feast for his elder son, whom he loved dearly, and was the only thing he held on to. Amidst the feasting, with many courtesans and women flouting themselves past Boromir, trying to catch his eye, music was called for.
Faramir and Elentari were called forth, as it was widespread knowledge that the two of them were skilled in music and made each other better; Faramir with his lyre and Elentari with her fiddle, and both, with their voices raised in song.
Upon the prompting that they could sing whatever they wished, they looked at each other knowingly, and as Elentari began to play, Faramir sang:
I walk the maze of moments
but everywhere I turn to
begins a new beginning
but never finds a finish
I walk to the horizon
and there I find another
it all seems so surprising
and then I find that I know
You go there, you're gone forever
I go there I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
Faramir picked up his lyre and picked up right where Elentari left off with her fiddle, and in perfect harmony, Elentari sang:
The moon upon the ocean
is swept around in motion
but without ever knowing
the reason for its flowing
in motion on the ocean
the moon still keeps on moving
the waves still keep on waving
and I still keep on going
You go there, and you're gone forever
I go there, I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
I wonder if the stars sign
The life that is to be mine
And would they let their light shine
Enough for me to follow
I look up to the heavens
But night has clouded over
No spark of constellation
No Vela no Orion
Faramir joined her. Their voices moved in perfect harmony: You go there, you're gone forever
I go there I'll lose my way
If we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is
To leave the thread of all time
And let it make a dark line
In hopes that I can still find
The way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
Begin a new beginning
Still looking for the answer
I cannot find the finish
It's either this or that way
It's one way or the other
It should be one direction
It could be on reflection
The turn I have just taken
The turn I was making
I might be just beginning
I might be near the end.
They finished the haunting tune smiling to each other, evidently pleased with their own performance. Fervent applause greeted them and many older musicians commented on such skill at such a young age. Only Denethor looked down upon them scowling, evidently not pleased with such an obvious display of affection for each other, even at such a young age. He had long seen the affection growing between the two, and foresaw what it would lead to, and his heart was filled with foreboding. A dance began, Boromir, never without a dance partner, as most young women were eager to appease the future Steward, danced the night away, with his father looking, pleased and proud at his eldest son.
Faramir stayed with the musicians longer, with his lyre, not noticing Elentari slipping away.
What seemed like hours later, he too slipped out, searching for his dear friend and sister. He found her alone, stretched out on her back, gazing at the stars of Varda Elentari, her namesake, her melancholy voice drifting with the wind. The moonlight radiated off of her, making her shine like the Silmarils.
An Elven maid there was of old
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey
A star was bound upon her brows
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lórien the fair
Her hair was long; her limbs were white:
And fair she was and free
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree
Beside the falls of Nimrodel
By water clear and cool;
Her voice of shining silver fell
Into the shining pool
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore of Nimrodel,
And in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea
Wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from Elven-strands
Across the streaming tide
When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey;
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
The plumes of blinding spray
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now long beyond the swell
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel
Of old he was an Elven-king
A lord of limb and tree
When golden were the boughs of spring
In fair Lóthlórien
From helm to sea they saw him leap
As arrow from the string
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.
The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore
"Isilmë," Faramir whispered. Elentari turned her head, not sensing him there, "What?"
"Isilmë," Faramir repeated, "That is what I shall call you. The moonlight shines upon you."
"Isilmë. Isilmë," she repeated it for a few times, then a smile appeared on her lips, "I like it. Thank you Faramir. It's a beautiful name."
"Just as beautiful as you are," Faramir replied innocently. It was not a matter of flattery; he was merely speaking what his heart told him, as he always spoke the truth with her. He stretched himself out beside her and they looked upon the stars; the same stars Luthiên and Beren had those many years ago, in a past age, and sang softly together, until they drifted to blissful sleep.