Like moths to a flame by nelladel  

In the daze of the Trees Arien had tended the golden flowers in the gardens of Vána … ("Of the Sun and the Moon")

The light of the Trees ever present, days and years would pass in Aman in a daze, without shadow and uncertainty. Their light eased the pains of those that came there with the journey and strengthened the spirits of those whom lived near, nurturing it with Treelight. 

First of those that have seen the light to give up was Miriel Serindë, for she could not bear the burden of living and left aman for the halls. Gardens of Lorien held her body frozen in time yet without a soul within still, until she decided to never return and until Finwë alone in grief in Aman decided to remarry.

Fëanaro was an aptly named child, even from a young age was he filled with a fiery passion and light, burning inside him. 

He went for his apprenticeship to Aulë's halls at a young age and never returned to Tirion fully even after his marriage. He had no love for his father's second marriage and yet did not want to cause any rifts with his father by causing conflict.

Their family walked all across the land when not near Aulë's halls where they both did their craft, to Ekkakia and to Araman where stars could be seen out of the range of Treelight. 

He walked and walked, watching the stars and the darkness of the far away lands clouded in mist. He felt his mind free of the daze that have surrounded him all his life then, not unlike after the effects of a drink would pass. Yet it also gave way to grief too, unlike how it would almost soften in the peaceful light.

So alike to moths they were, he thought then, lured to light for the peace it promises.

His father, he knew, was free of his grief of Miriel partly because of this. He remembered those first days of his grief. They were of help to many others too, he knew.

He just didn't know if like moths, it would end up with all of them getting too close to the fire and burning.

It was rare that they spent more than a month in Tirion before, even if Nelyafinwë did mostly attend court. But as time went on and their family grew, they did make a big enough house there too, and suitable workshops for Nerdanel and him. 

They still left to be away from the city sometimes, but they haven't done that in some time. Especially now, for his latest child was almost to be born.

It was another night of waiting for the baby to decide when to come out. He had spent most of the evening in his forge, for Nerdanel was getting tired of his fussing and worrying.

That night, he had a dream. 

He stands on stone faintly cracked, and a strong light shining behind him. He dreams- Of the gloom that is weaved into a blanked of night so heavy- without any presence of the light he can feel behind him ahead, that it hungers and eats- and the beautiful light he can't see behind yet could be no other than the Trees shines and shines yet just can't reach- something heavy as night-

And then it all goes out.

He wakes up, eyes unseeing and fear deep in his bones.

Melkor is released, out the doors of the night. He is repentant, the Valar say.

He is many things. A linguist and a smith and many things, yet he lately is consumed by gemcraft he ever had much love for. 

(Nerdanel is worried, he knows.)

It is simple at its core, for most substances to hold a fainter light source like starlight, it is the distance he assumes makes it easier for it to not shatter and hold. But yet it might be easy, they are not bright enough somehow, he feels.

His dreams don't leave him, every night he is faced with darkness, and the dread never leave him alone even when he wakes. People notice, he knows, yet nobody dares suggest Lorien. 

He doesn't know if it would help even if he went.

It is all consuming, the fear and and his dreams drive him forward and yet he is also an inventor. His craft is one he greatly enjoys. He is missing meals sometimes and everytime he feels the Vala released in Tirion, he goes back to his forge to continue to find a way.

What would hold against such darkness, if not the trees shining distant? What is the urge driving him onwards day and night towards capturing this light? Was it only fear?

Fëanaro fears that only time will tell, and it will be too late.

He cannot sleep, and there is darkness in the halls of his father's home. For Melkor he holds little respect, and yet he cannot not hear his words that make him even more paranoid.

He is angry and he is tired.

( And he sometimes understands his mother for not wanting to deal with all this.)

He thinks about the distant shores too, where the only light shining is the starts far away.

The need to capture light is as urgent in his bones as the drive to leave Aman, it is almost enough to drive him crazy and it is certainly enough for his hatred of Nolofinwe to grow for his constant opposition.

He thinks and theorises, he tries to understand.

Feanaro is inherently a child of fire and light. His art is to capture it to keep, and to make it beautiful. And yet the part of him that loves it for what it is, for it's beauty and peace, another part of him knows that it is not without failure and it is no miracle cure. It did not keep his mother alive, and he knows many that were born in the other shore still are not free of their griefs even if they are lighter.

He hates the part where it eases the shadows sometimes, even his mother's dead body under that light were not free of their effect. It is uncanny, it feels like a lie made true in front of his eyes. 

What is the beauty of death, of pain and grief? So close to light none of their shadows even have space to grow and yet they neither have the space to just be. 

He wonders the life of those who refused, those that still live under only the light of the stars that are so dim compared. It is the same darkness he dreams? Even at the edges of this land it is hard to be completely free of the light, the pelori still let some light through in most places even if not much.

Is it madness, just to see if it is actually as bad as he dreams? 

Why could the trees not be given to the whole of Arda? If Melkor was the issue, he is still in this land now. He has no doubt that even the Ainur are driven to light, and grieve and would grieve the loss of it. They would grieve the trees too.

A trees is uncaring of the world around, for it is only an organism that is to stay in one place and grow. Yet these ones affect you to the very nature of your fëa.

When he finally captures the light, it feels like freedom and fate decided both. Yet he can only wait and see what they will bring. He only hopes it is healing.

Chapter End Notes

Then the Silmarillion happens :)

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