White Horn Tower by Himring  

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Fanwork Notes

For the Manwe's Mailbag challenge, for the postcard below, with the accompanying text:

I walked on the beach yesterday, for leagues uncounted. The shoreline bends this way and that but the beach itself changes little: the colorless stones, the gnawing waves, the screaming birds, the reeds that obscure the sight of what we harbor beyond these shores. When I returned, my feet were chafed and my legs were sore.

I'm afraid I may be treating this prompt rather loosely. 

The title is a translation of the name of Barad Nimras in the Falas.

Also, this is a work in progress and I am just starting with a kind of prologue.

Postcard showing a strip of rocky coast in good weather, with the text: Greetings from the beautiful Falas.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

After the fall of Dorthonion, Edhellos (originally named in Quenya Eldalote), Angrod's wife, has chosen to move to Barad Nimras, the tower that Finrod built in the Falas on a headland west of Eglarest.

Major Characters: Eldalótë

Major Relationships:

Genre: General

Challenges: Manwë's Mailbag

Rating: Creator Chooses Not to Rate

Warnings: Creator Chooses Not to Warn
Chapters: 3 Word Count: 781
Posted on Updated on

This fanwork is a work in progress.

Shipping Forecast for the West Coast of Beleriand

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Drengist

Westerly 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8 at first, becoming variable 3 or 4, then cyclonic 5 to 7 later.

High, becoming rough or very rough.

Wintry showers.

Good, occasionally poor.

Nevrast

Westerly 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8 at first, becoming variable 3 or 4, then cyclonic 5 to 7 later.

Rough or very rough.

Wintry showers, then rain later.

Good, occasionally poor.

Brithombar

Westerly 5 to 7 becoming variable 3 or 4, then cyclonic 5 to 7 later.

Moderate or rough.

Wintry showers, then rain later.

Good, occasionally poor.

Barad Nimras to Eglarest

West backing southwest 5 to 7, increasing gale 8 at times.

Moderate or rough, becoming rough or very rough later.

Showers, then rain later.

Good, occasionally poor.

Arvernien and Balar

West backing southwest 5 to 7, increasing gale 8 at times.

Moderate or rough.

Showers, then rain later.

Good, occasionally poor.

Chapter End Notes

This is taken from an actual shipping forecast, with the names changed. (Please assume that this is a translation of some quite technical Falathrim  mariner speak...)

The four rows for each location cover the categories: wind, sea state, weather, visibility.

In the UK, there is a bit of a tradition surrounding the shipping forecast on the radio at night, which extends beyond those who are interested in it for practical purposes. A couple of well-known poems have been written about it. 

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Arrival in Barad Nimras

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Edhellos, now Warden of White Horn Tower, to Cirdan, Lord of Eglarest and Brithombar.

Thank you again for all the gracious assistance you have lent us! I am happy to report that all is going well so far in this our new venture. Although the previous warden you had installed was evidently very glad to be away—I gather Carallim had greatly missed serving you on a ship, which is his true vocation, and being stuck in a tower staring out over the sea was a poor substitute for him—we found everything in Barad Nimras in extremely good working order and I trust we will succeed in keeping it so.

I have put up the naltalma apparatus in the pavilion on the viewing platform and turned the largest room on the floor below into my room of records. Your people are viewing these manifestations of Noldorin newfangledness with some scepticism.  Captain Feinnen, in particular, may have something to say you about this, when you next meet. As the plan is for him to be stationed here regularly with me, when he is not patrolling the coast, I hope I can convince him that I am not more eccentric than he can tolerate!

I will write again soon, when we have settled in a little more. I wish to be useful to you, my friend, and not only by freeing up Carallim for other duties closer to his heart.

Edhellos

Chapter End Notes

With thanks to Chestnut for the names of the two Falathrim characters.

Written for Silmarillion Epistolary Week on Tumblr.

(This was not a chapter I had originally envisaged for this fic, but the event gave me the idea that a letter might be the way to move things forward a bit, after having stalled completely for so long...)

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Edhellos Writes Again

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Lady Edhellos, late of Dorthonion, now of White Horn Tower, to Finrod, King of Nargothrond.

Of course I am not all right, Ingo. If I may say so, neither are you. I doubt anyone else is in Nargothrond just now, either, unless they are extraordinarily resilient or very lucky. My one regret, in leaving Nargothrond, is that I am not at your side supporting you, except I have to acknowledge that I was hardly capable of offering support while I was there. I will have to trust to the ever-reliable Edrahil instead.

Meanwhile, I am confident that my little tribe of survivors is beginning to do better here already. The tower is truly well built and appointed! It does you and those of your masons whose work it is credit, Ingo.

As for myself, I confess I do appreciate that I can take a decent walk along the headland when I am off duty without stumbling across an archer concealed in a bush at every step, as happened every time I tried to get a breath of fresh air outside your caves and walk in Talath Dirnen. Do not mistake me, I do approve of the vigilance of your guards. If recent events have shown us anything, it is the need for caution. I do not mean to neglect that lesson here.

Could I ask you whether in your dealings with Cirdan and the Falathrim you have encountered a Captain Feinnen? We are meant to cooperate along this area of the coast, he and I. On the one hand, he is obviously very competent and experienced, which is reassuring. On the other hand, I don’t find it easy to assess his attitude to our little Noldorin contingent, and towards me in particular. He clearly enjoys posing as a traditionalist who has not adjusted his ideas since before the rising of the Sun. I am sure Cirdan would not have chosen to station Feinnen here, if he were truly like that. But, so far, I cannot look behind that gruff jokey manner—would Feinnen adopt it if there were not some real prejudice lurking underneath? Time will tell. But if you have more insight, please drop me a hint.

You see I am immersed in the task I have taken on, not sitting dropping idle tears in the waves! Be well, you all. I do not mean to become a stranger and will visit when we have finished settling in and I feel things are running smoothly enough.

Edhellos

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I hope she gets her walk along the beach in before it hits - and that the hatches are well and truly battened down, even if she is in a tower rather than a ship. (Although if it's out on a promontory like a lighthouse, it could quite possibly be battered by towering waves driven ashore by those winds!)

What a novel idea to bring the shipping forecast in here. Although I personally found the shipping forecast a little too mindless for my mind to perch on, the irony, that it's warning of hectic weather conditions and yet many people find listening to it relaxing enough to send them to sleep, appeals to me.

And I'm intrigued now to learn what this is a prologue to!

It is more or less the current winter weather around the North Sea (and I hope everyone out there stays safe!). It is not the most placid stretch of ocean even at the best of times. 

Osse is clearly doing his thing here, without much restraint by Uinen. Some of the canonical descriptions of the sea up in Nevrast are pretty formidable, too...

I guess the gale that's headed Edhellos' way is actually the fall of the Falas in the attack after the Nirnaeth! Except that this fic isn't being at all cooperative. That is why the summary and tags are so cagey: I didn't want to put in anything that I might not get around to even hinting at, even by the amnesty deadline. It is also why I posted the prologue, to encourage myself a bit.

There may be some more literal rough weather in the fic, too, though!

Something that tickles me a bit, listening to the radio in bed, is the part where so often the voice goes: "Good, occasionally poor", with such calm conviction. It makes perfect sense for shipping, of course, but gains some kind of larger applicability somehow.

 

Oh my, I like the idea of the weather forecast being a metaphor of what's to come, emotionally as well as materially.

I hope this fic starts playing nicely with you, and if it'll be helpful, I'm very happy to be a sounding board.

The "good, occasionally poor" is just so... yes, it carries a special je ne sais quoi. I know saying things like this can be either a motivator or add pressure, so I hope it's the former: I can just see you entwining that like magic into your fic!

Y'know, there is something almost magical about this!  The slight mundanity of the reporting but it just... you can feel the wind and smell the brine and see the waves crashing over the rocky shores...

It's like Shipping Forecasts: Osse's In A Mood

Are you familiar with the podcast 99% Invisible? He did an episode on this and I was honestly reading this in his voice!  (which is very soothing if you are not familiar)  Now I'm imagining Roman Mars as the voice of Cirdan and I doubt I can be convinced otherwise! 

Thank you!

This is is a bit of a disaster zone (or feels like it, at the moment), as my brain refused to address the prompt fill straightforwardly and started haring off in different directions, including this prologue! If you want to get an idea where this is meant to go, there are some bits of WIP on my Dreamwidth journal under f-lock that might give you an idea... I'm sure it will come together eventually!

I really appreciate the very different tones in each letter. (And the different descriptions of Captain Feinnen, who clearly is an annoyance, at the very least; I hope he gets over his predjuces, or whatever is actually eating him.)

In her letter to her brother-in-law, I love how she starts right off the bat about none of them being fine: that carries a little healing power there, or at least aids in coping.

And I can feel her relief (there's a better word but it's not coming to me) at her freedom to walk the cliffs truly alone, and I can imagine her feeling the sea winds scouring her grief, clearing it out each time it builds up and threatens tears. (She is not idle, but I don't think there are no tears, even if they're only on the inside.)