Sparks Amid the Dark by Isilme_among_the_stars
Fanwork Notes
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
-The Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2, Chapter 6 "Lothlórien"
A collection of drabbles exploring the beauty of mingled joy, hope and sorrow in Tolkien's world.
Major Characters: Fingon, Celebrían
Major Relationships: Fingon & Maedhros
Genre: Fixed-Length Ficlet
Challenges:
Rating: Teens
Warnings: Mature Themes
Chapters: 6 Word Count: 609 Posted on Updated on This fanwork is a work in progress.
A Lament for Innocence Lost
Fingon grieves for a broken Maedhros, and the life they once shared.
Read A Lament for Innocence Lost
Last summer, we were mere boys. Cosseted in warm golden fields, racing headlong as our horses’ hooves turned up clods of perfect earth. Our tryst stolen from beneath the noses of our warring fathers. Our laughter rang from the shores to the hills.
Time has changed. Last summer was an age ago. Winter, dark and desperate, lasted as long as I could remember, biting, clawing, and freezing until I felt no more alive than the ice beneath my feet. Then came a sunrise and a song. And you, cousin, broken by my own hand. Will we ever laugh together again?
Chapter End Notes
This drabble was originally created during Instadrabbling on SWG's discord, using the word prompt: summer, long, time, last.
All the Sweeter for its Transience
Fingon finds an unexpected moment of joy in the night time on a visit to Nargothrond.
Read All the Sweeter for its Transience
I cradle you in the crook of my arm. Sleep eludes me, even as it claims you, softens you against my breast. Sweet Finduilas, how small and innocent you are! A spark so bright in this moonless night.
Many think this prosperity will last the age, naming it already The Long Peace. I know better. Ever I ride to the brink of darkness, watchful for the day I can no longer keep it at bay. Fear of ruin haunts my dreams. Yet it cannot steal away such joys as we find. For a time, sweet Finduilas, we will both rest.
Chapter End Notes
This drabble evolved from one I wrote during Instadrabbling on SWG's discord for the prompt: close, reach, safe sight.
Rebuilding
Celebrían prepares to sail for Valinor.
Read Rebuilding
Celebrían enlists the help of Erestor.
Old dusty plans are un-earthed. Copies are made. Gardens are surveyed, seeds saved, catalogued and cross-referenced to their plot on the page. Celebrían’s hands shake and ruin the lines of the sketches she wants to make. Erestor takes up the pen and captures her visions.
The books and samples are his idea. Scraps of stone, wood, fabric, and all the information they can gather on how to build it all again from scratch. Everything that makes Rivendell itself is packed neatly into a series of crates.
When Celebrían sails, she takes hope with her.
Verdant
Fingon loves Middle Earth from the moment he steps off the ice.
Read Verdant
I walk into Middle Earth and find that it is green. Not the neat, tidy evergreen of Valinor. But a wild, determined verdancy fiercely breaking through the snow where land meets sea in the frozen North. This land is like us: determined.
It should be strange, this place I have never set eyes on before, so different from all that I have known. Instead, the sap rising in the trees, the rivers, the lifeblood of the land sing with a spirit so like my own. We are kindred, this courageous land and me. She enchants me with her fierce joy.
Rivendell
Read Rivendell
Come walk my halls where once was heard the sound of merry song.
Silent are the autumn airs, yet that I do not mourn.
The stones remember voices fair and lays they once did sing.
But they have passed long years ago away across the sea.
Don't mourn for me for I will keep this gladness locked in stone.
In memory their joy lives on, in old and dusty tomes.
Where pain has fled and peace is vast my dear ones dwell once more.
And walk among the kindly valleys of a hither shore.
And I am needed no more.
Unspoiled
Written for the SWG Instadrabbling promt: the past is a pebble in my shoe
Read Unspoiled
"Why do you stumble so?" the child asked, innocent thing that she was. So unlike the young of Endóre, who knew too much of darkness by far.
No child would she burden with this truth: that joints forced beyond their measure could break in ways that never healed. That desecration scored into heart and soul was worse than the violation of her flesh. A lasting limp was the price of survival.
Celebrían mustered a smile, "well, you see, the past is a pebble in my shoe."
The girl had no idea what she meant. For that Celebrían shed grateful tears.
