silverstar, the silmarillion

vii. grieving

Elmarë circled the room curiously, she knew and felt that the bedroom has an owner before herself. She traced the wood of the bookshelf when her fingertips touched a rough surface. Elmarë paused in her moments and leaned her head closer to the wood.

'Beautiful star,' it said, written in Tengwar.

It was engraved in an elegant carving, though, she had a feeling that it was carved by the previous owner. Elmarë rubbed her fingertips over the engraving, blowing the dust that was covering over the wood, and revealed more exquisite engravings.

'Daughter of Faith,' it read, beside the prior engraving, too written in Tengwar.

She frowned, were these names? She traced the carving slowly, feeling it wasn't too old. It wasn't deep, nor was it shallow, and was preserved well by the wood. Elmarë noticed that it was written, 'Daughter', a female then?

Where was she? Where was the 'Daughter of Faith'?

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thoughts, Maedhros emerging from the door. As it was before, his eyes solemn as he scanned the room. His eyes fell on her form then, and it displayed disbelief and awe before it hardened when he saw her by the bookshelf.

When Maedhros opened the door, he thought he had seen Miralyaen, with her love for history books and golden hair, blue eyes, standing by the bookshelf, smiling at him. Those soft blue eyes shone alike to stars, shining with joy and faith as she stared through his soul.

"Have you seen this book, Maitimo?" Miralyaen absentmindedly asked, showing Maedhros a history book of the history of the discovery of the Edain, her blue eyes glittering with curiosity and excitement.

Maedhros merely smiled and shook his head. To him, she was the light to guide him from darkness, his darkness. He had never regretted the day that his brothers rescued her, from an orc prison near Himring. She was badly injured then, her skin matted with blood and bruises.

"See, it tells when—

But then the memory was cut, his fëa burying his memories deep, away, to decrease his torment. It was just a mist in his mind, a fog, for she was not there, Miralyaen was not there.

"Come, your brothers are requesting your presence," he spoke, his voice tense. Too late he realized Elmarë flinched, wariness visible in her silver eyes as she watched him after his odd behavior.

Maedhros led Elmarë to Elrond and Elros' room, where Maglor was sitting by the bed, the twins tucked inside the blankets but seemed reluctant to fall asleep.

Elmarë smiled when her eyes caught sight of her brothers. They weren't used to being separated together after the days of them sleeping tucked beneath her arms. Both Elros and Elrond's grey eyes brightened when they saw their sister entering through the threshold.

They wiggled from underneath the blankets, trying to withdraw themselves from it. Elmarë climbed onto the bed, then settled between her brothers. She draped her arms around each of her brothers, then glanced at Maglor who had a harp on his hands.

The minstrel raised an eyebrow, then began to strum the strings, playing a lullaby he had long had not, originally written for his brothers then. His face slowly creased in grief as he sang his powerful but soft and flowing voice, his strumming remaining soft to hear.

"Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!
The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.

Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.