Fading Light - A Silmarillion Tale | Of Every Race Saga Book I

Chapter 6: Light in the Darkness

The sunlight filtered sleepily through the leaves to the cool grass beneath his feet, the dancing shadows from the breeze moving through the trees' branches playfully moving along the ground. Finrod walked ahead of the rest of the column, his thoughts elsewhere. Days like this, warm and beautiful amidst a world in chaos and disorder, reminded him most of the time now lost, time that he had spent with his love among the trees of Lórien's gardens in Valinor. Those were beautiful days... There they spent hours, simply doing nothing, only relishing being in each other's company. Finrod gazed at the ground, memories unrepressed coming back to him.

He was lying down among the velvety grass, his head in Amarië's lap as she ran her small, nimble fingers through his hair, speaking in her sweet voice about something her brother had done that was amusing. He was content enough to listen. The sunlight was warm and comforting and every moment was sheer bliss. Occasionally, when she paused, he would open his eyes and smile up at her before she continued, sometimes commenting on what she was saying. But now she was done speaking and both were silent, only the water moving gently in a nearby brook and the bird-song floating down to them from above disturbing the peaceful silence...

"Is everything alright, mi'lord?"

Finrod opened his eyes to see Brúthain, one of many in this company, speak to him, a concerned look on his face. "Aye, it is."

"Forgive me if I am too bold, but you seem preoccupied."

Finrod smiled, though it was the barest hint of the smile he had had years ago, and responded. "Maybe I am. I was just remembering the days before I came to Middle-earth."

"Good memories?" his companion asked, his dark brows drawn together in question.

Finrod looked away, feeling a ghost of the feelings he had felt when with Amarië surge up inside him. "Aye, they are good memories. Joyful memories." I only wish I could experience them still...

"That is well. We have yet to make good memories in this land," Brúthain turned away and walked back down the column.

Finrod strode onward with the rest. Aiee, Amarië, my love, why could you not have followed me into exile? It would not be so bitter then. Oh Varda!  his heart cried out in anguish. Could you not  have granted us that?

Elthríel ducked into a shadowed archway as Amtharel, clustered about with her closest friends, walked down, chattering and laughing about the latest bit of gossip. Once they were gone, Elthríel scurried on her way like a little mouse, small but fast. When she reached the library, she stopped and entered, sighing with relief when the room was empty.

Closing the door, she stepped up to the place she had seen the previous day and glanced over the titles. One of them caught her attention and she pulled it off the shelf, studying it curiously. It was covered in green leather with gold working in intricate designs over it, but that wasn't what caught her eye. It looked familiar. Intrigued, she walked to the window and untied the ribbon that held it closed. Opening to the first page, she stared as recognition dawned on her.

"Here. It's for you," she said, shyly placing it in Finrod's hands. Then they both had been but little more than children.

Finrod took it and opened it up, running his hands lovingly on the smooth, creamy, and blank pages inside. "It's beautiful, Amarië. Hannon-lle," he looked up and smiled that slow smile of his that when it spread across his face, it seemed that the Trees themselves shone all the brighter. Then he laid it aside and flung his arms around her, picking her up and swinging her around. "But you are the best gift today," he whispered into her ear so that his siblings wouldn't hear before his lips brushed her cheek as he pulled back.

And he had used it, used it well. Every single page was covered in various poems, songs, and messages of love that he had written to her in the days long ago. Elthríel read each one over again, remembering the times she would read it together with him in the gardens of Valinor. Here and there were places with both their handwritings present when they wrote messages to each other instead of listening to lessons of their history. A tear rolled down her cheek as page after page went by, every single one of them with its own memories and meanings.

Eventually she reached past half-way the book and the themes changed. Many of these poems were unfinished and none were about the subjects the previous works had been on. She read these as well, trying to understand the reason behind Finrod's composing it.

The break of day sounded,
Rolling o'er the waves of the deep.
The sun shined for the first time,
Looking out o'er the sea.

Melkor in his mighty halls,
Bewildered at the shining light.
For his rule was checked for a time,
By the end of eternal night.

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Ulmo, ruler of waves and sea,
The foam crashing upon the shore,
Ever resounding till end of days
When the sea will then sound no more.

Then the theme changed and was no longer on the Vala. Most of the verses following the previous ones had been crossed out beyond ciphering. Elthríel tried to read them, but soon gave up.

There was only one poem after this, an unfinished poem, but the rest of the leaves following were blank. This page, also, had gotten wet and crackling stiffly as she turned the page to read the unfinished verses.

In the quiet, misty morning,
At the breaking of the dawn,
Till the twinkling of the stars
And the setting of the sun,

We walked under the trees,
The golden trees of Lórien
When the dew was shining,
Shining, having just fallen...

Then it ended. Elthríel looked up, her vision blurred by tears. There is still hope. He could still love me.

Suddenly, a great clattering noise disrupted the silence, startling the elleth. She rose and put the book back on the shelf, walking to the door and stepping into the hallway. Various ellons were running by, obviously in great haste. Then the bright sound of a hunting horn sounded tran-tara-tara above all the rest.

"What is going on?" she grabbed one of them and demanded, surprised as the other at her uncharacteristic boldness.

"It's Finrod Felagund. He's returned."

So, what did you guys all think? Did I change the pace too fast or is it alright? Let me know in the comments! Dedication goes to GadSul for the wonderful feedback from last chapter!