Threads
"What are you doing?" Finwe asked Miriel, placing a hand on her shoulder as he pulled up a stool and took a seat beside her, watching intently as her pale nimble fingers flew over the loom he had made for her when they were married.
"What does it look like?" she asked sarcastically, turning to him and smiling fondly, fingers never pausing in their cherished work.
"I know, but what are you making?" Finwe laughed softly, bending his head to bestow a tender kiss on her soft, silver hair.
"I am making a special tunic for my special son." she replied, weaving a bright golden thread in as she spoke.
"Why not a baby blanket? He will come soon, and that will serve you better, I suppose. That tunic is for a boy of at least ten years, I should think, you will have time to make those later."
Miriel kept her grey eyes focused on the flying threads before her.
"Not all the time you think, love. I am making this for him to remember me by. Every thread is added with a feeling, a thought, and a blessing. It is my greatest masterpiece, and when he wears it and runs his fingers over the threads, he will feel his Amil with him."
Why so sad, Muse, why so saaaaaaaad? :(( Poor Finwe...so oblivious...