"Fulgurite" and Other Drabbles by Dawn Felagund  

Fulgurite

Nerdanel meets Fëanor for the first time.

prompt: hope, glass, special, fascinating

I once, in my wanderings, found a lightning-strike on the beach, the sand twisted into a spiral of glass. I dusted it free with gentle fingers. A special, fascinating thing: from the trauma of fire, beauty comes.

I once, in my wanderings, found a boy by a stream, washing a gem he’d found there. When his eyes lifted to mine

strike

I knew—I knew—that he arose from a crashing chord in the Music, arisen twisting, lovely, and strange. I coaxed him forth with gentle fingers. My wanderings ceased, came home to hope.

Of trauma. Of fire. Beauty comes?