Estateillio

Aicanillë

• Estateillio had retreated into her chambers, standing with a scowl in front of one of the walls where there hung a finely made sword with a large ruby as its pommel. It was a simple sword, all straight lines and no ornamentation save for the golden star that shimmered through the ruby and the gem was the only speck of color, the blade a very light silver and the guard and hilt in various shades of grey, the handle wrapped in a black leather-like cloth. Caranthir had always been a man of practicality, not caring about unnecessary pomp and that was reflected perfectly in his sword that had been created when the light of the Trees still shone.

• It's shape and weight was familiar to her, but she had never wielded it, for it was powerful and she had been afraid to use it at first and then never had the opportunity. And now, if her vision was correct, she would fight with it. And so with slightly shaky hands she reached out and carefully took the sword from the wall and her fingers closed around the hilt and she pulled it out of its black leather and silver sheath and a presence brushed against hers and then her skin started to prickle as power flooded her veins and the ruby started glowing and sent out a powerful surge of magic that rippled through the air and could have probably been felt many many miles away if not for the wards of Lothlórien that were designed to block any such things escaping from inside them.

• And Estateillio dropped the sword in surprise and in fear and it clattered onto the ground and the glow dimmed, though a shimmer stayed in the ruby and on the silvery-white blade. Aicanillë indeed.

• And then the door was pushed open and Sívcelumë came rushing in, Líriel behind her, and the two elleth looked around the room to discern any source of danger, but they found none, and then Sívcelumë saw Estateillio's distraught expression and asked: "Are you alright? Did something happen?" "We're fine", she answered quietly, "Don't worry about us."

• And her heart-mother frowned, silently asked her wife to calm the guards that were rushing up though their bond and when the silver-haired Falathrim was gone, the older elleth gently steered Estateillio towards her bed and had her sit down on it and then she saw the sword lying on the ground and sheathed it carefully and put it back on the wall again and it did not react like it had done with the younger elleth.

• "What happened?", Sívcelumë then asked and knelt down in front of her heart-daughter and Estateillio frowned and showed her the dream and the vision and then what had happened when she had drawn Aicanillë and the elder looked at the sword and she saw the lingering light.

• "I know little of swords and their magic", she spoke honestly, "But it is widely known that Fëanáro's swords were inferior to few. I myself have seen this blade in flames in many a fight. Perhaps whatever magic fuels them has accumulated over the years and was now violently discharged."

• And Estateillio was silent for a minute, then shook her head and said: "Ata told us once that they poured enough energy into their blades to give them a consciousness of sort, similar to Gurthang, we think. They could do certain things themselves, useful in a battle. I did not... we did not think that it would reject us so."

• "Reject you?", Sívcelumë asked incredulously and the younger laughed mirthlessly: "Well, what else could that have been?" "It gave you power, didn't it? I felt it in the memory. Surely it wouldn't have done that if it had rejected you", the elder tried to reason and that gave Estateillio reason to pause and think: "But why did it react the way it did then?" And to that Sívcelumë had no answer, but she was quick to think of a solution: "You could try to ask it. It has a consciousness you said, perhaps it is enough to enable communication."

• "And who is to say that it doesn't do that again?", Estateillio questioned. "No one. But you don't need to draw it, just touch it and ask it politely. And if it does happen again, we'll just drop it and you never need to see it again", Sívcelumë suggested and the younger elleth sighed and gave in: "Alright."

• And she stood and slowly walked over to the seemingly inconspicuous object and she raised her hand and her fingers fluttered along the guard, barely touching, but there was that presence again and the feeling of power crawling just beneath her skin, and it wasn't malicious, but its voice made chills run down her spine: "Aia, Turnya. Long has it been since last you called upon me, hérnya. Tell me, who needs slaying and I will gladly spill their blood."

• "No one needs slaying!", Estateillio exclaimed in horror, "at least not yet, not at the moment. And Carnistir Morifinwë fell six and a half millennia ago. I am his daughter, Hráven Halieth Estamíriel Ráven or simply Estateillio." "Herinya", the sword all but purred, "Much have I heard of you, that you take after thy lady mother in prowess and fierceness. Let me offer you my service, Herinya."

• "Why did you send out that surge of power when I touched you earlier?", Estateillio questioned instead of answering. "I have slept for a long time, Herinya, and then I was awoken with a jolt and found myself in the hand of one capable again." "Capable of what?" "Capable of wielding my power, Herinya, someone with the blood of Fëanáro Curufinwë in their veins", the sword answered.

• "We might fight against Sauron himself. It will be dangerous", the elleth warned, but the sword wasn't fazed by that: "I fear nothing, Herinya." "Then I shall accept your service", Estateillio decided, "What may I call you?"

• "I was called Aicanillë by you lord father, Herinya, if that name pleases you", Aicanillë answered. "So be it."

[《◇》]

Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoyed!

"Aia, Turnya" means "Hail, my master"

"Hérnya" means "my Lord"

"Herinya" means "my Lady"

Aicanillë translates to "sharp silver glint"

AT

Edit: I was bored. So I drew Aicanillë. Thought you might want to see my vision for Caranthir's sword.