All the characters specifically mentioned here, except for Melkor Morgoth, are mine. He, the world, and the greater situations in this story were first written about by J. R. R. Tolkien.

This story is not meant to make any money, so please just read and enjoy. :)

The elves surrounded the cairn they had made. It was now bigger than it had been the day before. Lathwinn laid a hand over her heart. The Noldo among them turned a curious gaze upon her. She began to speak. "May the Creator of all know we did not destroy these, his creations, for our own gain, but only for our protection and that of his other creatures."

The other Green elves replied in unison. "May it be."

The Noldo's eyebrows rose as he glanced at the others his gaze settling on Lastannan as the eldest green ellon took up the pre-planned, if not usual, it seemed recitation. "May we all remember well the task our Creator gave us beneath the stars at the beginning of our days as his free people."

"May it be," the others replied again.

Ranthalion continued, "May we all ever protect each other, our trees, and both birds as well as beasts."

"May it be."

Melarbeth went on, "May we not let grief or its possibility stop us from doing what is right."

"May it be."

Then Sarnin broke in. This surprised the Noldo so, not only did his eyes swivel to look at her, as they had toward Melarbeth when he spoke, but his face turned to her as well. He marveled at the stillness of her body and softness in her gaze and voice. "May we never forget compassion even as we protect creatures from one another."

Manpalan finished the planned recitation, "And may we see our Creator's joy if indeed everything is to be renewed in time."

Lathwinn began to sing. Then the others joined her with their voices. The lyrics of the song were in Silvan, and so stylized, some words were drawn out and others run together. The voices singing them first rose, then lowered, and then rose again. Celuant gave up trying to understand the verses of the song. He simply marveled at how they blended with the music instead.

When the singers finished, they gave a collective sigh. Then Lathwinn glanced at him. She gave a laugh though her eyes glistened with tears. "Now that has been seen to, I think you and my eldest brother both need a bath."

The Noldo stared at her with wide eyes and swallowed, hoping none of the others noticed the bob of his throat. Lastannan gave a sad smile and said, "Indeed we do."

. . .

He approached the water and froze. He straightened himself and stared at where water met land. He swallowed. He did not wish to look ...

"Look at me!"

No.

He only thought his refusal. He would not even speak to this betrayer once in chains, then freed, then allowed to roam among his fellow Valar, Maia, and even the elves … This breaker of minds and corruptor of hearts would not have his.

"LOOK AT ME!"

He trembled. He bent his head. He gazed into the shadows at the base of the dias upon which the Throne sat, instead of into the eyes of the one sitting upon the throne.

"Make him look at me!"

Hands grasped his chin and forced his face up. For a moment, he feared the tyrant, the slave-master, the enemy of all would get his way. But then, mesmerizing as the eyes of this being were, something even more mesmerizing caught his attention above them. Instead of keeping his head down, which was impossible now, he raised his eyes up. He did not meet the gaze of the one glaring at him, with malice he could feel like the heat of his forge, though it made him feel weak not strong, and fearful rather than joyful, as his forges heat had. He kept his eyes upon those which they had come for instead.

How jealous his old mentor would be. He had not even caught a glimpse of his greatest creations again after losing them before losing his life as well. Now his student, who had wandered from his teacher's side before he had even made these, stared at them. Their beauty caused even Melkor's angry voice to fade away from his mind. Even when they tried clubbing him to break his focus and make him look into their ruler's eyes, he naturally, instinctively, looked back to the silmarils instead.

Somehow though, he remembered the last order given about him by Morgoth to his most trusted servant. "Take him downstairs, deep down, into the weighted levels. Chain him to a forge. He will make me and my armies such grand things there, his people will never escape them, or me. This one will bring me victory, one way or another."

What did you think?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes