#two drabbles

“Look at the stars, Atar!”

Nelyo and Kanó gazed up in wonder, eyes reflecting the stars twinkling like pure cut diamonds in the night sky. “They’re so pretty!” Kanó whispered. Fëanaró gave him a warm smile. “Aren’t they, yonya?” He said, ruffling his sons’ hair. “And guess what? Elentári’s stars are eternal. They will always be there.”

“What about when it’s really dark?” Nelyo frowned. “ What then? Will they still be there?”

Fëanaró wrapped an arm around both of his sons and pulled them close. “They will, my little stars. They will be shining, even in the bleakest of nights.”

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“Look at the stars, Atar!”

Elrond and Elros pointed up at the night sky excitedly, “Look, there’s a super bright one today!” Elros chirped. “Really, yonya?” Maglor looked up curiously. “It has been deathly dark; we have not seen the stars for ages…” Ever since Sirion. Dark, bloody, smokey Sirion. The sky had been veiled thickly in darkness and despair....just like Maglor’s soul. “What do—”

Maglor halted mid-sentence with his mouth hanging open, his eyes resting on a new star—shining piercingly bright through the hazy night, like a beacon. Like a jewel…

There was no mistaking it.

“MAEDHROS!”

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"atar” - “father”

“yonya” - “son”

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day 09: enjoy 🌸 ->

“Enjoy.”

Káno looked up. “What?”

Turko narrowed his eyes, lips tightening into a thin grimace. “You enjoy this?”

Káno glanced around him. Music books and scribbled notated papers were strewn about in a cluttered mess. He clutched a quill in one ink-smudged hand and a flute in the other.

He grinned. “Yes.”

Turko snorted and flipped through Káno’s illegibly written sheet music. “You’ve locked yourself in this room for days, have been singing non-stop, and is clearly sleep-deprived.”

Káno let out a dreamy sigh. “And I love it. It’s wonderful. The melodies…the music…how could you not enjoy it?”

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“Enjoy.”

Maglor didn’t know what it meant anymore.

Walking, day after day, across the shore against the crashing waves and roaring ocean. Dragging his weary feet through the sand. Shivering as wind gusts pierced his skin and rattled his bones.

He was but a wraith. A ghost, drained of all passion or life.

His instruments had long broken. He merely opened his cracked lips and sang the melancholy Nolodantë, his voice but a thin whisper drifting through the air. Mourning, as a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the salt thankless Sea.

Enjoy.

He had long forgotten what it was.

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<- day 08: stars 💫 | day 10: serenade 💗 ->

"Nice serenade.”

Findaráto had just strung the last note on his harp when he turned to see his little sister standing beside him.

He blushed, flustered. “Artanis? What are you doing here?”

Amairë laughed. “It is nice to see you, Artanis."

Artanis sat onto the grass with them. “Likewise, Amairë! You know, Findaráto’s been working on your sweet love song since before you two were courting. He quite adores you.”

Findaráto felt himself blushing even more. Amairë smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s beautiful, my love.” She pulled out a flute. “I have one for you, too.”

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“Nice serenade.”

Finrod had just strung the last note on his harp when he turned to see Galadriel standing beside him.

The cliff overlooked the golden sunset, tainting the sky with red and orange. Finrod gazed into the distance.

“Do you miss her?” Galadriel asked softly.

He strummed a note. “Everyday. But I am glad she remains in Aman. I would not want to drag her into the dangers of Beleriand.”

Galadriel plucked a flower from the grass. “You play the same serenade as you did back then.”

“Sometimes, when I sing to her…I can hear her singing back.”

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<- day 09: enjoy 🌸 | day 11: credit ⛔️ ->