To Tibblets: Thank you! It's nice to be back! ;) But word of warning: this character is not the same as the other protagonist in my other stories set in Arda. She may undergo same things, her personality may be different, though the physical descriptions are the same. She will have a different story, having the chance to change many things, but don't expect her to change EVERYTHING. Besides, there are twists in the plot.
To VanyaNoldo22: Well as they say in Sindarin and Quenya: Ni 'lassui or Hantanyel!
Disclaimer: I don't own the works of the master J.R.R Tolkien.
"Here." Amil declared, pulling back to inspect my hair.
We had had a change of plans. Apparently our trip to Alqualondë wasn't merely a holiday. We would be living there for a few months.
This wasn't unexpected. After all, Amil was still considered a princess of the Teleri and my parents divided their time wisely.
"Wait!" She called out to my father. He stopped and stood straight, rising an eyebrow. "I haven't checked them yet."
Amil was referring to the boxes and crates of supplies and the saddlebags that would be taken with us.
She quickly picked me up and handed me to Atar while she counted the fruits, cheeses, lembas, bottles of water and whatever else.
Atar shook his head, smiling.
"Finished yet?" Macalaurë asked from beside him. Nearby Tyelcormo was calming Huan and helping fetch Telperinquar's pony, feeding it.
"Yes." Amil nodded, satisfied, as the two of them loaded the last of them up.
Well, a lot of people had decided to take a holiday, I thought, gazing curiously at those assembled.
Findekáno was there, but his wife and son were not. Turukáno and Elenwë had brought their little daughter Itarillë- Idril. Yes, no one could mistake her. Írissë had come, and Arakáno too. From Arafinwë's brood, Findaráto had brought Amárië along, Angaráto and Aikanáro had come, all serious-faced, but eager to get to the sea. And of course: Artanis. We wouldn't have left without her.
In the meantime, a sulky, small, dark-haired boy skulked around the edges. His face bore an unmistakable resemblance to Haru and Uncle Curufinwë, this could only be Telperinquar. Findekáno helped him mount his pony and Atar made sure his saddle, reins and saddlebags were all lined up. But he seemed moody at most. Intriguingly Tyelcormo managed to get Huan on a basket-thing, which was mounted on a horse. The stallion neighed, and Tyelcormo hushed it promising carrots and sugar once we arrived. Huan did not fidget in the least.
At times like this, I look at him and wonder how he could have possibly been the same character from The Silmarillion. I wonder how Huan must have left him.
If Telperinquar was moody, Itarillë was sweet, ecstatic and brilliantly-shining to the point of hyperactive. I knew our parents were going to make us spend time together, but boy she was going to be trying, I thought.
She was small now but soon she would be growing into a very beautiful woman, and I knew that many would fall at her feet including- a sickening feeling swept through me- Maeglin.
Elves aren't stupid. In Westeros it was acceptable for even first cousins to marry each other- Ned Stark's parents Lord Rickard and Lyarra had been cousins-Lady Lyarra was Lord Rickard's first cousin once-removed, according to the family tree I saw in my first life. Tywin and Joanna were cousins, so Cersei and Jaime, the two crazy twins never gave Joffrey a chance. Tywin and Joanna's inbreeding may also help explain why Tyrion was born small. The Targaryens with their practice of marrying brother to sister ended up with half their offspring mad- or weak- while the other half turned out to be very great. And it wasn't just the civilisation of Westeros.
In my third life, I knew that many wizarding families ended up interbreeding. The Gaunts were particularly notorious in this regard, marrying their own first cousins so in the end, they were either mentally and/or physically handicapped. Even Sirius had said it, as I remembered reading in my first life.
"The pure-blood families are all interrelated. If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry pure-bloods your choice is very limited; there are hardly any of us left."
I blinked. Since when was my memory that good? Especially with records?
But on said subject, somehow the elves of Alagaësia and Arda- even at this early stage, knew of such dangers. It wasn't just unnatural and abominable- it was highly dangerous for one's offspring.
Why did Maeglin go for his cousin? Surely he would have seen her as a sister?
Or maybe not, I realised with astonishment. After all, wasn't Maeglin raised by his father and mother- and maybe a few servants- alone in Nan Elmoth? His contact with outsiders would have been extremely limited. Eöl was firm friends with the dwarves, but how often did Maeglin go with him? Was that it?
And Írissë. Írissë was the only female figure (apart from any possible servants) that he would have known. His only source of comfort, and gentleness. Eöl didn't seem the nurturing type. And so Itarillë would have appeared in his life, as did the sun which he was forbidden to look at, and she must have been radiant to look upon. And the only female member of his family he was allowed contact with. But she kept her distance... Because she mistrusted him. He would not have seen her as a sister. He wanted something- some sort of love, companionship, family. But he was never fully accepted. Turukáno would have welcomed him with open arms, but he was too busy being king. Itarillë symbolised everything he ever loved and/or wanted in his life: the sun and light of day, the warmth, familiarity and comfort of family like his mother whom he lost, and love- a future full of joy and warmth. But it could never be, even if she did not despise him.
I was staring out at the distance for so long, I was startled when Atar helped Amil mount her horse and handed me to her. Itarillë rode with her mother, then her father when she reached out with grabbing hands towards him, giggling all the while.
This wasn't the mother of Eärendil. Not yet. I had to play this very, very carefully.
Macalaurë scolded two of his sons. Elenwë and Írissë were engrossed in conversation as they rode. Artanis came up to us.
"She's been awfully quiet today." Artanis remarked peering down at me. My mother looked down.
"Yes." She sighed. "She's either very quiet or she's very happy." She frowned. "I think she's thinking." She looked back at Artanis. "The Valar have summoned us to Taniquentil."
Artanis looked grim. "I had a feeling this might happen, based on what you have told me prior to her birth and begetting. We are the Eldar, Eärélen. Our fates are not our own. Our destinies are written in the stars by the All-Father, and woven through the tapestries of time by Vairë. Only the second-born have the privilege of choosing their fates."
"What?" My mother stared at her. "Artanis, what are you saying?"
Artanis gave her a look. "The second-born are mortal. In time, as long as it takes for one of the Eldar to come to adulthood, their bodies with wither. Their hair will thin and turn dull and pale. Their bones will become brittle and shrink and ache, as do their flesh. And their skin will droop, crease and wrinkle into folds. Their lives are short. This we do not know for we have always lived in the bliss of Aman. They are weak in body though their hearts, spirits and minds may be otherwise. The cold of winter and winds, and the heat of the sun will weaken them."
Amil stared. "They sound... Sickly." She cringed. "I do not mean to question the All-Father and the Ainur but how in the world are they supposed to survive in Endórë? As if the Fell Creatures that remain aren't bad enough! What in the world do they do with all that... Weather?"
Artanis delicately snorted. Even at this age she seemed wise and precocious to say the least. She was only a little older than my Amil.
"Of course, we've all heard the accounts of the elves of the Great Journey," Amil defended. "The months where everything is frozen and no food is to be found. The snowstorms so fierce that the ground would be buried within layers and layers of it- and anything upon it. The frozen waters during such seasons. The thunder and lightning and rainstorms so numerous that sometimes the waters will rise and flood everything and everywhere! How do the Avari even survive?" She whispered. "And not to mention, the earthquakes, volcanic explosions and more."
"I believe," Artanis said slowly. "That either they are not as frequent, or they are not as terrible as you may think. After all, those that underwent the Great Journey also endured the final stages of the defeat of... The Dark Master. That alone, would have made their hearts tremble with fear. Furthermore, those things that you have read, most of them are second-hand accounts, written by elves who have never been to Endórë."
Amil may have looked sheepish. "I suppose you are right." She sighed. Then she went still and silent. "Our grandfather's brother... A number of our people were lost in the woods of Nan Elmoth, or rather, he was and they remained while the rest came to Aman. I still can't help but think..." She trailed off.
Whatever it was, Artanis knew. And clearly neither cousin wished to discuss it within the reach of a baby's ears. I felt like growling in exasperation.
I couldn't even tell them that Thingol was alive along with the rest of the Sindar.
And at this stage, Amil- and Atar- would never allow me to come with them to Middle-Earth. Valinor was- quite literally- a paradise. Middle-Earth was beautiful but it had its dangers, its unpredictability.
And soon the hooves of the horses reached an excited tempo. I sensed it, I knew from my experience in Ellesméra: Alqualondë.
And sure enough we reached a tall cliff.
There down below, the glittering, deep blue-green of the Beleager. And there: Alqualondë: the Haven of the Swans. The shimmering, gleaming city of pearl and silver. Nestled safely between a natural rock harbour and decorated with pearls. It had stunning views, that was one thing. The other was that it was so breathtaking in itself, of which even Ellesméra and the likes of the cities of Du Weldenvarden could not compare.
But oh! The sea itself sang in my blood and my heart! It called to me like no other! No wonder Galadriel warned Legolas that to set eyes upon the sea would mean that his heart would never truly rest within the forest again. My time in Alagaësia itself had taught me that all elves had a natural longing for the sea. How, I do not know. As mentioned, the elves there and here are different, especially in origins.
All white, and capped with silver, Alqualondë's buildings were slim and very graceful, seemingly light, like swans about to take flight (no wonder they named it that). There were countless pearls and other gems: opals, topazes, tourmalines, jet, amethyst, aquamarine, rubies, garnets, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires along with shards of crystal were strewn about the shores from the rock pools Amil had so happily mentioned. There were more jewels there than any place I had ever seen in all my previous lives- even with dwarves. Some of them were given by the Ñoldor others came, washed up by the tide from the sea. The streets of Alqualondë were sparkling clean and paved- shockingly free of any dirt or fish remnants, in ivory-coloured stone and crystal, beautifully meandering all across the city in such artful ways, their indescribably lovely artwork, and gates of pearl and silver. One tower stood taller and higher than the others, the silver flashing and sparkling in Laurelin's light.
And then there were the ships. Oh, the ships. Lighter, more graceful and narrow than vessels built by humans and dwarves, like the ships of Alagaësia's elves, I had no doubt it could move without sound, and didn't need much water to float, and barely any steering. It was the same colour as many of the buildings, and the most distinct feature: the prows bore the figureheads on the prows were shaped like swans' necks and heads with gold beaks and jet eyes. The fresh, clean sea air hit me and I suppressed the urge to jump, shriek with glee and dance around, excitedly.
But I couldn't stop the gasp and the eager light in my eyes. Amil and Artanis both saw this and smiled. As did Findaráto. "Well, I think this Little One is eager to go, don't you?" He chuckled, and then urged the horses on.
Teleri halted and looked up at our approach calling our names, shouting greetings and practically glowing with joy. People ran to greet us. I was abashed. I couldn't help it. I buried my face into Amil's dress and she chuckled, shifting me in her arms.
With cheers and songs of welcomes still ringing in our ears, we made our way to a more secluded part of the city.
A lake. As if I could not be more stunned. There was a lake- freshwater by the looks of it, with countless lotuses and lily-pads floating atop the clear, and sparkling water. The water itself looked as clear as a mirror and so clean that I longed to dip my hands to take a drink. There were a few islands here and there, rich with trees and flowering plants, but the most surprising thing were the houses. Large manors, mansions or even palaces if they can be called that, sprawling, luxurious and beautiful buildings floating amidst the islands or the edges of the lake in some cases. My jaw dropped. It was as if the inhabitants of Alqualondë could live in their own personal island-kingdoms.
Atar took me and helped Amil down. Amil passed me to Írissë while the others helped with the horses and luggage. I stared shocked and wide-eyed in wonder. Írissë laughed.
"It's beautiful, isn't it Little One?" She smiled, bouncing me gently. "You're lucky you'll be staying here for half a year in your life."
Ah, how could I deny that?
We were standing on a jetty that looked like it was made of gold, or at least wood-like gold. Crystal lamps in the shapes of flowers were unlit, jutting up from posts entwined with ornamental gold vines. Everything was a dream unlike reality which I had previously experienced.
Soon after elves appeared, paddling leaf-shaped oars on boats white as cloud which, like the ships in the harbour, had swans' heads and necks carved into the prows. The only difference was that the heads had gold crowns and these were smaller boats.
"Come Macalaurë- help me with these." Atar said, shifting some of the luggage onto one boat. Most of them did the same. Írissë passed me to Artanis so she could help, while Amárië struggled to keep a hold of an excitable Itarillë.
"Come Telpe," Atar called. Telpe looked warily at the boats. "It's not going to tip over. The Teleri are the finest boat-builders in Arda." Tyelcormo was also struggling to get Huan into the boat.
Still looking highly suspicious that it was almost comical, Atar and Macalaurë helped the young future Ringmaker onto one boat. Again, I was passed hands, onto the boat and Itarillë squealed as she was swung by her arms onto another.
"Ah." Amil looked fresh and even more radiant than before. "It's good to be back." My aunt agreed. "So which one is yours?" Amárië asked. Amil pointed. "That one."
The palace- or manor, I could not tell for it was partly hidden by lush trees and flowering plants- stood on one of the nearer islands. It looked made of glass, crystal, pearl and silver, a gem-like piece of the most exquisite art. Rich flowers: irises, oleander, myrtle and buttercup framed the front, and creeping roses and cherry blossoms adorned archways. The wide windows had the closest thing to stained glass I had seen but lighter, more delicate in colour and form, as if the colours had been coaxed to emerge naturally, rather than strongly dyed into the glass. Framed in silver or pale gold, they shouldn't have been in harmony these colours, but they were. I could see images of flowers etched and coloured into the glass, and beautiful imagery of all kinds. The rest appeared made out of the same white stone, whiter than marble with a hint of silver, as the main parts of the city, but looked more like lace and embroidery.
Amárië, Itarillë, Elenwë and the others who had never been to Alqualondë (myself included) gasped admiringly. Even Telperinquar was too stunned and in awe to act sullen. Artanis smiled. "Maitimo and Eärélen were hard at work creating the manor and gardens." She said.
Atar grunted. "It was lucky we had help."
"And now you are finally bringing a little one here!" Artanis beamed.
I clapped and laughed excitedly.
We approached the manor, some elves- attendants to my surprise- thoughtfully helped us with our belongings and took over the boats. Itarillë squealed with excitement. As her parents swung her off the ship and onto the island, I realised that she was barefoot- like in the Silmarillion. She hardly- if ever- wore shoes.
That was a sobering thought. Even more sobering was what would happen to this city soon enough. But I forced the thought from my mind. I would not let it sour my mood.
I could not if they needed to trust me.
"Alright then!" Maitimo clapped his hands. "Shall we?" He gestured to the house.
Everyone was too excited and eager to see it all. Inside, the pale, creamy and delicate pastels of the windows and their frames had somehow harmoniously blended with the colours of the sea; blues and greens upon the floor. Frescoes and mosaics decorated the place, along the white walls, while soft rugs blanketed the floor. Luxurious furniture, fanciful and exquisite were placed in seating areas and niches where people could just relax and do whatever they wished. In front of us was a large staircase in green stone with gold banisters, and the doorways had pretty scrollwork dancing at the top.
"So, while Grandfather's thoughtful attendants helpfully place our things away," Amil began. "Shall we begin with a tour? This is Estela's first time too!"
The laughter echoed throughout the halls and Amil and Atar began to eagerly show us about. The library had shelves full of books, fine sculptures of ents framing the bookshelves, and carved birds streaking across the painted ceiling. The gardens had different flowers from our home outside of Tirion: myrtle, sea lavender, sea roses, lilies and sea daffodils, shaded bowers and marble fountains, spilling onto jasmine. Cherry blossom trees emitted a wonderful fragrance and I could see Amil had been hard at work. And as if the lake and sea were not enough there were pools for swimming too.
"I've always been longing to fill this place with people." Amil sighed. "Especially little ones."
I glanced at her curiously, then I remembered the rooms which we had seen: some of them looked so ready to hold people that I realised Amil and Atar must have been planning a very large family to begin with. They had always loved children and Atar had plenty of practice, but only I had arrived- and very late at that.
I felt horrible, terrible guilt at that, because I was not the child Atar and Amil expected. I had lived numerous lifetimes before, and essentially held an adult's mind playing at being a child. At the same time, they had absolutely no other offspring. They must have spent decades, if not centuries without a child. I adored and worshipped them, but at the same time...
I mentally sighed. Nothing for it.
This life of bliss in paradise would never last for them anyway. Here was my chance to save them.
We met Great-Grandfather Olwë soon after we were settled and refreshed. Now bathed and dressed in clean clothes we were presentable enough to go to the royal court and the city.
As I would later learn, we weren't the only ones to live in what humans in my first world referred to as a 'neighbourhood', on a lake with islands. Plenty of Teleri within Alqualondë and outside liked to live in manors and mansions, or smaller houses that were still stylish and full of comfort on small islands or at the shores of lakes. The reason that people lived near the heart of the city where Great-Grandfather Olwë had his palace and court, was because they had businesses or owned or worked on ships at the harbour, the court, or somewhere where people needed to find them easily. But the houses there were no less beautiful and elegant, there was no such thing as poverty for elves. Even though they did not need to work, they wished for a purpose in life- as was the reason why elves in any world would take up professions.
My great-grandfather was a man with a warm, gentle and friendly face. Yet you would never mistake it for being weak. He was an elf accustomed to the sea and sailing. Therefore, he was tall, looked strong, though lean, had long, slim fingers that would have been well-used for pulling taut ropes, steering and other things. He did not have the typical rugged, wind-blown looks of humans who lived that way, but I could easily sense the sea about it. Everything from the aura he exuded, to the strength of his arms, to the way he held himself and moved- like water, to his platinum-white hair which reminded me of sea-foam, and his piercing blue eyes.
His face had broken into a grin the minute he saw Amil and the rest of his grandchildren and their spouses. I was crushed while he embraced us, lifting me into the air to fuss- making me crow with delight to entertain others- and welcomed the rest of the Ñoldor and Vanyar to his kingdom.
"So finally, you've brought the Little One to Alqualondë," my forefather said in Lindalambë. I giggled and touched his face with my two pudgy hands. He pretended to gobble up my fingers, kissing them. I cooed.
"Where are my grandmother and parents?" Amil asked.
"Unfortunately your father is still at sea," Olwë sighed. "Your mother is with some friends. I have sent some word of her arrival. Your grandmother will be arriving shortly."
I was handed back to Atar and eagerly, my forefather ushered us to another room in preparation for the evening meal. He'd invited many elves of the court, and beyond. Surprise as it may be to other races, it did not matter to the majority of the Eldar whose offspring you were, or what social rank or how much wealth you held. All elves were cherished and loved in the eyes of Ilúvatar, the Valar and the majority of the Maiar. All elves contributed to their society to make Valinor the wondrous place it was. Why should anyone discriminate, least of all kings who themselves were chosen to become so?
Though The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug may say otherwise about Thranduil. But I admit I find that bit dubious. Maybe because Tauriel wasn't canon. I don't know.
"So," Olwë began. "How fares my friends from Tirion, including Finwë and those in Valmar?" He added, looking at the Vanyarin Amárië.
"My grandfather is extremely well, as are my parents, siblings and nephews," Atar answered. "As for the others-" he looked at the rest.
"My father sends you his greetings as do my mother," Findekáno put in. "Unfortunately, as of this moment, my wife has gone to Valmar with my son, Ereinion."
"A pity." Olwë stated. "Children are growing scarcer as the years go by, thus it gladdens my heart when I hear the House of Finwë is so blessed."
So birth and begetting rates had already begun to drop.
"Our parents are well, also but they could not come, I am afraid Grandfather Finwë has them busy with something, they refused to tell us." I looked at Findaráto in surprise.
"And as I hear, King Ingwë is well." Amárië demurred.
"Good." My forefather smiled.
I spun around, bored. Telperinquar was being steered forwards by Uncle Tyelcormo, looking sulky and fidgety- again.
Tyelcormo smiled. "This is my young nephew Telperinquar, son of Curufinwë," Atar introduced.
"Ah, yes!" Olwë grinned. "The crafty one! Dear me, he does look like his father and grandfather, does he not?" Atar and Macalaurë chuckled.
"Yes, and his temperament is the same," Tyelcormo playfully ruffled Telpe's hair, earning a scowl. It registered to me that this was the first time he has spoken out loud since we had left. The break-up must have been harder for him to deal with than I had thought.
Grimacing inwardly, I prayed for a miracle.
Was it Morgoth that drove him mad? The Silmarils? The effects of so many times a heart can be broken? Or Lúthien herself?
Honestly, I don't know. Next to my father, he was considered the handsomest of Fëanáro's sons. His Vanyarin-like looks came from my great-grandmother Istarnië, Nerdanel's mother who must have had Vanyarin blood as well. He was fair-skinned and had gorgeous blue eyes with golden-blond hair, attractive and lean as a predator, yet muscled, with chiselled features, not as strikingly sharp as my grandfather's but as meltingly gorgeous as could be. He was sunny, athletic, and if human high school girls ever saw him, they would die on the spot, their hearts stopping. He couldn't have had trouble attracting maidens to him.
Making them stay was another thing.
"Before we go on," My forefather said. "There are gifts to be given. We must also plan for Estela's presentation to this court and city."
"Of course." Amil nodded, tactfully. "And we have gifts to present to you as well," Macalaurë stated. "Boys!" He said, exasperated at the antics of his boisterous sons.
"For once in your short lives-"
"Come now, let children be children," Olwë waved a careless hand. "There's an eternity to be otherwise once their childhood is over." He smiled at me. "She looks like both of you. I can also see Fëanáro, Finwë and Míriel in her features, as well as her hair." He nodded approvingly. "But I can also see your mother and father," he grinned at my mother. "And me and my wife, of course." He sighed. "Children grow so fast. And yet they always take time in coming."
"I know that now," Amil said quietly. "You, Grandmother and my parents have always spoken of how long they waited for me to come." She shook her head. "Everyone of their siblings had married and had grown children by the time I came. I don't know how long we withstood our childlessness either."
My forefather placed a hand upon her small shoulder. "I know." He said. "But the longer the wait, the more you realise it is worth it."
"I cannot believe it," my Telerin grandfather grinned.
He had the same incredible good looks as Eärwen, his sister and Artanis' mother.
"She's definitely grown." He said approvingly. His hair was more like burnished or molten silver, he had high, striking cheekbones, a straight high nose, fine lips and smooth, flawless skin with a sheen that looked like it had been dusted with crushed silver or mother-of-pearl. His features were incredibly fine and chiselled. So this was where my mother received half her looks from, I thought. And her complexion.
His name was Elulindo, High Prince of the Teleri. "Now, Estela." My mother cooed in Lindalambë. "Why don't you spend some time with your grandparents? There are some people Atar and Amil have to greet." And I was shuffled off to my grandfather's arms.
I had been cooing and entertaining guests and family with my cuteness as much as possible. Amárië played with me.
"She's beautiful." She cooed wistfully. She and Findaráto exchanged smiles at each other, no doubt imagining their own offspring. A pity 'elflings' were only going to get rarer and rarer.
"So, how long have you two-" my grandfather began teasingly.
Amárië flushed. "Oh, not for long," Findaráto admitted. "I see. And what do your parents say about this?" Elulindo asked, amused.
Findaráto grinned sheepishly. "Long enough." He admitted. Grandmother took me in her arms.
"That hair like burnished copper," she murmured. "I remember seeing Nerdanel, but I swear her hair wasn't as deep and lush a crimson as this. Though the silver," she mused. "That's definitely Telerin."
"But the gold?" Írissë asked, amused. "That could be from you Tyelcormo. You've passed something down to your niece," she said, amused.
Tyelcormo smiled, mechanically, but the look in his face appeared strange. I winced inwardly, he was probably thinking that he was never going to find a wife, much less a father. So far, out of the sons of Fëanáro, apart from Tyelcormo only the twins were unmarried.
So I decided to distract him. "GAH!" I cried out, reaching my arms towards Tyelcormo. He took me, gingerly, smiling amusedly, when I tugged at his face, trying to get him to smile. I cooed and chortled with laughter, giving a gentle tug to a lock of gold hair. He bounced me up and down gently crooning softly while I cooed.
This wouldn't last, I would make sure of it.
I was already asleep, worn out by the time we reached our home. But my dreams didn't rest.
In my dreams, I saw the Valar and the Maiar at their work.
I saw Aulë hammering and chiselling more at the mountains, forming each one into something entirely different. I saw Ulmo raise the seas, filling them and urging the life to multiply aplenty. They were simple, transparent, glowing cells that split in half and then morphed into fish, eels, crustaceans, amphibians and sea mammals, swimming through the depths of the waters. I saw Yavanna spreading her arms, speaking to the greenery, coaxing them, stroking, loving, nurturing and loving them, making them grow tall, more vibrant in colour, strong and healthy. I saw Oromë riding on Nahar, bringing the animals forth and teaching them, like Nessa, his sister, to run. I saw Nessa dancing and Tulkas laughing at the beasts and their antics and jokes. Vána Every-Young scattered her power nearby causing flowers to spring, bloom and grow, the younger creatures to laugh, dance and leap. Everything was bright, fruitful and luminous. I saw Manwë holding out his arms, and at his command, he and his Maiar blew, the freshness of the air multiplying, so did the winds, shifting in their currents. The sky seemed to grow bluer. The King of the Valar spread out his arms and the Great Eagles flew. They brought the wind with them, it seemed, on their mighty wings. And oh, it blew. I could feel it.
And there was Varda, high on a mountain, with her Maiar, around a great cauldron filled with a swirling something that exuded so much light I knew mortal eyes could never see them up close, before she and her ladies scooped up handfuls of it and gently tossed and scattered them up into the night sky.
And then I saw Aulë again: he was hammering something. No, wait make that two. Flames whooshed and rose high. They were made of gold and silver. If I could have gasped, I would have. They were ornately carved and fashioned, elegant in the way that no elf could have made. Magnificent. Varda filled the two globes at the end with light. And both rose; one in the north and the other in the south. Ormal the Gold and Illuin the Silver. The Great Lamps.
But amidst it all, something was wrong. I just knew it. Blood crept into the rivers, ponds, streams and springs, poison choked the plants, contaminating them, and making them weaken, wither and fade to the poisoned earth. Blood from the corpses of dead animals, others were found hiding nearby, feral with snarling teeth and growls so hateful I glimpsed the madness and hate in their eyes.
Tulkas sprang alert. I saw a dark shadow in the distance- I knew it was Melkor. Tulkas gave chase, and Oromë, mounting Nahar, did the same. Finally all seemed well.
Tulkas arrived back and Nessa danced, flowers springing from her feet and her rich hair. She was gowned in white and the creamy-pastel flowers complimented the shade.
The Valar and Maiar laughed and danced, feasting and singing. Tulkas lay down, weary, Nessa did too. Both slept on the fragrant green and the beds of flowers.
But Melkor was delving deep underground, this I knew. A fortress which delved deeper beneath the earth it would take days, if not weeks to get to the very bottom, the fiery core. It was dark, cavernous, frightening and so terrifying I wanted to scream when I saw what lay within.
I did scream. And Amil and Atar came rushing into my nursery.
Elulindo was the name Telerin name J.R.R Tolkien came up for a son of Elwë in an early genealogical table, though in later versions of the (unpublished) Silmarillion, it was the name of one of the sons of Olwë, so it may be safe to say that he's canon.
Istarnië was an early version of the name for the wife of Fëanor. However, now fanfiction writers use that name for Nerdanel's mother.
P.S: I changed the name of Estela's mother, in the previous chapters as well as this one. I had to make adjustments because of the Telerin language. Eärwen's name means 'Sea-Maiden' but it could be translated in other languages as 'Maiden of the Sea'. So taking that grammar into context about Lindalambë, the Telerin language, Estela's mother's name became Eärélen- meaning 'Sea-Star' or 'Star of the Sea'. It was a struggle with that name.