Post by Admin on Jan 8, 2021 2:54:16 GMT
Author: Archeress of Silverbow
Summary: They are priced beyond all gems.... for some
Rating: T
“'He is beautiful, finer than any gem' Thus spoke Fëanor over the cradle of his eldest, who we now call Maitimo or Maedros.
And in the end, when seven stood before him, ranging from bare children to grown men he looked aside to Nerdanel and spoke with a kind voice he used only to her “You truly are a master smith, my wife, for these you have wrought me have a price beyond rubies or beryl, yey even over the silvers and gold that can be considered the highest loved of all works by my kin.”
As he stood in the woods by the tent, hand resting on his sword hilt, he waited. His father prised them above all, had sworn oaths of love and protection on them. They, as sworn sowrds to his father were bound to follow or die in the attempt, an oath that had had the Valar invoked, however against their will. For no apparent reason his eyes slipped sideways to where his brother crouched in deeper shadow.
He felt slightly sick, and angry. As they moved forward he allowed one bitter thought into his brain
Atto loved them more than us
The half-elf set the book down with a sigh. There was so much in that sigh, bitterness, sadness, emotions without name. After a long moment he looked across the desk and his student took it as a cue to voice his thoughts
“A price above everything else, except his Silmarils. Them no-one could buy, not even with innocent blood and shredded hearts.”
Elrond nodded.
Long after Estel had left he sat there, blind. Estel, with that unerring ability of youngsters, had struck to the heart of the matter. Slowly he nodded to himself...
He was not Fëanor.
His children, blood or heart, did not just hold prices beyond rubies...but beyond anything else.
“Even my own life.”
Summary: They are priced beyond all gems.... for some
Rating: T
“'He is beautiful, finer than any gem' Thus spoke Fëanor over the cradle of his eldest, who we now call Maitimo or Maedros.
And in the end, when seven stood before him, ranging from bare children to grown men he looked aside to Nerdanel and spoke with a kind voice he used only to her “You truly are a master smith, my wife, for these you have wrought me have a price beyond rubies or beryl, yey even over the silvers and gold that can be considered the highest loved of all works by my kin.”
As he stood in the woods by the tent, hand resting on his sword hilt, he waited. His father prised them above all, had sworn oaths of love and protection on them. They, as sworn sowrds to his father were bound to follow or die in the attempt, an oath that had had the Valar invoked, however against their will. For no apparent reason his eyes slipped sideways to where his brother crouched in deeper shadow.
He felt slightly sick, and angry. As they moved forward he allowed one bitter thought into his brain
Atto loved them more than us
The half-elf set the book down with a sigh. There was so much in that sigh, bitterness, sadness, emotions without name. After a long moment he looked across the desk and his student took it as a cue to voice his thoughts
“A price above everything else, except his Silmarils. Them no-one could buy, not even with innocent blood and shredded hearts.”
Elrond nodded.
Long after Estel had left he sat there, blind. Estel, with that unerring ability of youngsters, had struck to the heart of the matter. Slowly he nodded to himself...
He was not Fëanor.
His children, blood or heart, did not just hold prices beyond rubies...but beyond anything else.
“Even my own life.”