Built Far from the Sea-Board by Himring  

| | |

Fanwork Notes

For the Building Middle-earth Challenge, my prompts were: 

Style: Mamluk Architecture; Location: Vinyamar.

For the architectural style prompts, I drew on a couple of elements mentioned in the Wikipedia entry on Mamluk architecture. The most specific allusion here is to features of  a mausoleum in the Khanqah of Faraj ibn Barquq complex.

 No special warnings, but some canon-typical moving-to-Gondolin angst.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

The story of a delayed building project: in Vinyamar, Enerdhil decides to branch out in his making from jewellery to architecture, but is initially denied permission to build.

Major Characters: Enerdhil, Aranwë, Unnamed Female Canon Character(s), Penlod, Turgon

Major Relationships:

Genre:

Challenges: Building Middle-earth

Rating: General

Warnings: Check Notes for Warnings
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 602
Posted on Updated on

This fanwork is complete.

Built Far from the Sea-Board

This story features my take on Voronwë's parents. In my 'verse, his mother, who is canonically one of Cirdan's relatives, is named Halven.

Enerdhil, for those who have not encountered this lesser-known character before, appears in one of the conflicting versions of the origin of the Elessar, according to which he made the  Elessar or one of the Elessars in Gondolin.

Read Built Far from the Sea-Board

Halven bent over the model, studying the tiny row of ornaments running along like fretwork at the top of the wall.

‘Oh, very fine work!’

She looked some more, admiring, and then asked: ‘Is this Tirion style?’

Coming from her, it seemed a logical question, but Enerdhil had no real answer prepared and looked a bit helplessly at Aranwe.

Aranwe thought for a moment, screwing his eyes up in concentration, and then said: ‘It would not look out of place in Tirion, I guess, but not exactly. It has absorbed other influences, if you look closely, a little from other Amanyarin styles, but also from Middle-earth. And I can see how some of your other work has gone into it as well, Enerdhil, I think. You usually work on a much smaller scale, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ admitted Enerdhil. ‘But I have studied and consulted, and I am sure I can build this. With help, of course.’

‘Of course, you can’, said Halven warmly. ‘Where did you say you wanted to put it?’

‘On the promontory, a little way back and to the left, but still overlooking the Sea.’

‘I can just imagine it there,’ said Aranwe appreciatively. ‘When did you say your appointment with Turgon was?’

‘In two days’ time’, said Enerdhil, gulping.

‘Good luck!’ said Halven.

‘I am sure Turgon will love the project. You have nothing to worry about, really’.  Aranwe squeezed his shoulder.

*

‘No,’ said Turgon.

Enerdhil’s jaw dropped, as he quite forgot his careful court manners, all his hopes suddenly crushed. Things seemed to have been going so well! Turgon had even complimented him at first on some of the details of the model—high praise indeed, coming from such an expert and connoisseur of architecture. But when it had come to actually asking for permission to build…

He stared at Turgon silently, pleadingly, over his model, not daring to ask at least for an explanation for that blunt refusal. None seemed to be forthcoming. Turgon seemed perhaps a little uncomfortable, but was clearly not prepared to elaborate.

Penlod, who evidently had not seen this coming either, now apparently felt obliged to step in and try to smooth things over: ‘It is an admirable design, Enerdhil. Maybe if you just come back and try another time, at another appointment, perhaps bring some of those others you consulted to demonstrate just how practicable it would be?’

Turgon frowned and shook his head slightly.

‘No,’ he repeated and finally added: ‘Not now and not in that location. Later. You can build it later.’

And that was how Enerdhil was one of the first inhabitants of Vinyamar to receive a hint of Turgon’s plans to move the entire population to Gondolin, although he could make no sense of his words at the time.

*

‘It is beautiful, Enerdhil,’ said Halven, looking up into the roof. The model’s tiny ornamentations now showed in full size. Here they were carved into pale stone at the four corners of the ceiling, an almost delicate pattern of indentations as of miniature bee hives. Above them, elegantly, rose the dome.

‘But...,’ prompted Enerdhil, guessing at a reservation unspoken.

They walked outside before Halven decided to answer. Before them, a slender tower rose snowy-white, with its intricately crenelated crown. Enerdhil had eventually built his project for Penlod, who had not forgotten his previous disappointment and approached him about it early in Gondolin’s building.

Halven permitted herself a sigh that she would have suppressed if Aranwe had been with them on this occasion.

‘It is now quite far from the Sea.’

Chapter End Notes

I ended up connecting this project with Penlod, who is the Lord of the two Houses of the Pillar and the Tower of Snow (those House names seemed to fit, especially the second one), but I did not see him as the architect. 

I drew on the character of Enerdhil, who I had written about before. I envision him as quite young, at this point (we don't know anything about him pre-Gondolin, as far as I know). Aranwe, in my 'verse, was still a child when he left Tirion.

I assure you Turgon is in truth more uncomfortable with his refusal than he appears to be in the story; he is just, as we know, pretty obsessed with secrecy and has neglected to prepare a good cover story at this point.

The title draws on a poem by Edna St Vincent Millay with the title "Inland".

Leave a Comment

I’m married to an architect and so I enjoyed a bunch of this just from the parallels of how difficult permitting and approvals always are, even in a fantastical fictional world! But on a more serious note, this is such an intriguing entry point into that little interim time period between when Turgon’s plan was formed and when it was carried out. I’d never thought much about that before, but this is just the kind of practical situation that would arise — and be frustrating or inexplicable to those who weren’t privy to the idea— in that situation. And the ending is so bittersweet in the loss of their old home and its openness to the west and the wider world!

I was indeed also thinking of IRL planning permissions, although I believe they rarely involve interviews with kings! (You might also be amused by the drabble I wrote that one time in which Narvi and Celebrimbor had gone over budget.)

I think that all kinds of practical considerations would arise with that move to Gondolin! We see some of the issues the secrecy is causing in the narrative, but they would really start much earlier.

Halven (who is a Sinda) is perhaps thinking that, if she had chosen to move to Doriath instead, she would at least find it easier to to go home occasionally. But she let herself in for this when she married Aranwe and is not the kind to back out.

It's interesting, I think of Vinyamar as temporary but they were there long enough that there would be a sense of loss when leaving, especially when combined with sea-longing. It's nice to see that here, it makes Vinyamar feel more real.

Thank you very much!

Halven is a relative of Cirdan's and a Sinda, so for her the coast of Belegaer is just home. But she is committed to her marriage and to safety for her young son. (I was planning to link the other two fics in which she features, but I have not got around to it, yet.)

And I am sure that the Sindar of Nevrast who joined Turgon had no idea of that coastal settlement being temporary, to begin with. They may have been more concerned with safety from Morgoth than other Sindar who stuck to wandering. Nevertheless, I am not the only one who has wondered how those Sindar coped with what Gondolin turned out to be like.

But I think, even for the Noldor, Vinyamar was originally built with more permanence in mind, even though Turgon also seems to have chosen the location to stare longingly over the Sea towards Valinor. It seems unlike the settlements closer to Morgoth that started out more as military camps. Vinyamar was clearly built to last, even though it was abandoned so soon.

Poor Enerdhil, seemingly being rejected in such a way. It's difficult for Turgon too. I like how you used the prompt, and connected it to Penlod. Even though he got to build it inthe end, since he had such a specific location in mind originally, I wonder whether he changed his design at all to suit the new surrounds, or if he feels that it's not quite the same? (And as a seawaterbaby, I feel for Halven missing the sea.)

Thank you, Anerea! 💗

I think Enerdhil probably did adapt the design a bit, not just because of the new surroundings, but also to make it as suitable as possible for Penlod.

He is more enthusiastic about Gondolin than Halven ever was, really. So he would have seen that more as a welcome challenge. He may still have a twinge of regret about the earlier plan, too, nevertheless.