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I'll be Yours if You'll be Mine by NelyafinweFeanorion Teen
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The Light Wraps You by Narya General Audiences
A moment between Celebrimbor and Orodreth after the news of Finrod's death. Written as a birthday gift for Gabriel – it's...
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Melpomaen the Elfling by Glorfindel Explicit
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I will Lift mine Eyes by Linda Hoyland General Audiences
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Shoutbox

Narya
04/20/18 10:35 pm
Happy Friday :) it's been a gorgeous day here.
Spiced Wine
04/20/18 09:51 am
Happy Friday, everyone :)
Gabriel
04/20/18 12:47 am
Thank you Nelya, thank you Spiced. :)
Spiced Wine
04/19/18 08:22 pm
I’m glad you’ve had a lovely day, Gabriel :)
NelyafinweFeanorion
04/19/18 05:47 pm
Happy birthday Gabriel!
Gabriel
04/19/18 01:04 pm
Thank you so much Narya. I've had a lovely quiet day spending time with family. :)
Spiced Wine
04/18/18 10:08 pm
What a gorgeous day today! Like a taste of summer! I love sitting working with the door open!
Narya
04/18/18 10:07 pm
Happy birthday for tomorrow, Gabriel! (I am travelling for work and likely to be stuck on trains, so might not have chance to say it on the day.)
Narya
04/15/18 03:05 pm
Got it, Nelya - thanks for playing! :) I messaged you about DW as it turned into too long a post for the shout box.
NelyafinweFeanorion
04/14/18 11:33 pm
what fun, Narya!I just sent you a prompt by PM. I'm not on dreamwidth. Someone please fill me in on Dreamwidth as I'm not familiar with it. Is it something I should look into?
Shout Archive


A Song About Kingfishers by Himring

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Quenya names: Feanaro=Feanor, Nolofinwe=Fingolfin, Maitimo=Maedhros, Makalaure=Maglor (pet name: Kano),



 

The door of Feanaro’s study slammed shut behind him.  Nolofinwe’s glare slid away from the impervious oak and hit Maitimo, who had just come into the hallway with a drawing in his hand that he had meant to show his father. Maitimo shook his head in confusion, his ears ringing a little as if he had been slapped. Nolofinwe gave an angry snort and stormed out of the house.

Maitimo looked at the drawing in his hand and discovered what he guessed he should have known already. Even if it had not evidently been the wrong moment, his drawing of a kingfisher in flight was not good enough to show his father. Looking at it dispassionately—now that the first flush of creation had passed—what he saw was an engaging enthusiasm in the underlying sketch, several flaws in the execution and a distinct lack of originality overall.

He swallowed his disappointment and, drawing still in hand, wandered out into the garden where he found Makalaure, who had somehow escaped his mother’s supervision again, sitting on his behind in the dirt and mulling over the question whether he was lost and whether he should start yelling now or maybe put it off a bit.

‘Look, Kano, I drew a bird’, said Maitimo and showed him the drawing.

Kano’s face lit up.

‘Bird’, he said and reached out and grabbed.

In no time, the paper had crumpled and torn in his pudgy little fists.

‘Bird gone’, said Kano uncertainly.

He felt this was a greater crisis, potentially, than being lost.

‘No’, said Maitimo soothingly, picking him up and settling him in the crook of his arm, ‘the bird is not gone, Kano. It’s still out there.’ He pointed off into the hazy distance where—somewhere—kingfishers flew and dived.

He began carrying Kano up and down the garden path, singing a song to him about kingfishers. It wasn’t a very good song and he didn’t sing it very well, but that did not matter, because Kano liked Maitimo to sing to him. Kano cuddled against him to listen.

They forgot about the drawing. Rain came and washed away the colours and soaked the paper. Their father’s anger lasted longer than that.

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