Post by Ninhiisenen on Mar 4, 2005 9:11:20 GMT -6
The clamor of seven swords could be heard in the garden of the House of Fëanor as Fëanor's seven sons prepared for the greatest deed of their lifetime: fulfilling their father's oath and triumphing over evil to take back what was originally theirs: the fate of Arda concealed in the three Silmarils. Nerdanel was startled from her deep thought by a raging cry from Maedhros. "What in the name of Manwë and Varda are you doing?" an astounded
Nerdanel asked.
"If something should happen to father and he is unable to fulfill the oath." Maedhros replied before being interrupted.
"The oath. that blasted oath. I can't believe the audacity of your father to make those jewels when he knows fairly well that the evils of this land, such as Morgoth and Ungoliant, swallow up any treasure they see in their
path!" Nerdanel rose up from her seat and began to pace about. She wove in and out of the paths of the seven brothers, daftly escaping their swinging swords as they fought on without taking notice of her. "Do you all have to
leave me? Your father has already forsaken me for his prize and treasure and now he's brainwashed you as well! Why didn't he just make one Silmaril in the form of an Elf-woman so as to have an affair with me and crush my heart.? I'd feel the same anyway."
Maglor caught his mother with a hand on her shoulder and led her aside. "Father needs an army and we are all he has. Morgoth has poisoned the minds of most of the Noldor and now there's no telling who we can trust! I know
you are weary of oaths and promises and such in this time, but I do promise you, Mother, that your family shall return in some way or another, along with all the hope the Noldor have lost." Nerdanel sighed and turned her back on her sons. She strode heavily back into the house, as if her broken heart was an unmovable burden.
Fëanor lay in his chamber with a hand to his brow, trying to calm his own anger and feelings of loss. He saw his wife's shadow out of the corner of his eye, but her presence felt cold and distant. "My love, why do you
approach me this way? You look as if you've lost all that keeps your spirit alive..." he pulled her closer so that she sat on the edge of the bed, but his
hand quickly moved away, "...and, your body is so cold! If you grew any tenser, I could forge a mighty blade from your steel body!"
...
Nerdanel asked.
"If something should happen to father and he is unable to fulfill the oath." Maedhros replied before being interrupted.
"The oath. that blasted oath. I can't believe the audacity of your father to make those jewels when he knows fairly well that the evils of this land, such as Morgoth and Ungoliant, swallow up any treasure they see in their
path!" Nerdanel rose up from her seat and began to pace about. She wove in and out of the paths of the seven brothers, daftly escaping their swinging swords as they fought on without taking notice of her. "Do you all have to
leave me? Your father has already forsaken me for his prize and treasure and now he's brainwashed you as well! Why didn't he just make one Silmaril in the form of an Elf-woman so as to have an affair with me and crush my heart.? I'd feel the same anyway."
Maglor caught his mother with a hand on her shoulder and led her aside. "Father needs an army and we are all he has. Morgoth has poisoned the minds of most of the Noldor and now there's no telling who we can trust! I know
you are weary of oaths and promises and such in this time, but I do promise you, Mother, that your family shall return in some way or another, along with all the hope the Noldor have lost." Nerdanel sighed and turned her back on her sons. She strode heavily back into the house, as if her broken heart was an unmovable burden.
Fëanor lay in his chamber with a hand to his brow, trying to calm his own anger and feelings of loss. He saw his wife's shadow out of the corner of his eye, but her presence felt cold and distant. "My love, why do you
approach me this way? You look as if you've lost all that keeps your spirit alive..." he pulled her closer so that she sat on the edge of the bed, but his
hand quickly moved away, "...and, your body is so cold! If you grew any tenser, I could forge a mighty blade from your steel body!"
...