I read this story sometime ago, and really should have reviewed -sorry :(
But I can still say, months later that this story stuck with me! Its a beautiful and heart wrenching read.
I am a huge angsy lover, but I could barely stand reading these last few chapters, they were that intense!
Incredible story. I will defiantly have to explore more of your work :D
Intriging begining :D
"So simple sometimes our desires appear to be; and truly the deadliest of passions like to cloak themselves this way, and thus become our undoing. But I did not know it then; all I knew was of a quiet longing being born in the recesses of my heart till then uninhabited by any that did not belong to my family. If this were love, then it was a poison sweet to take."
That was beautifully worded!
I do like that she is a warrior, and better yet that she is not someone of import in society, it adds more mystery to her.
Your descriptions are well done, I can easily picture the sights and smells of the forest.
There were a few places where the more old fashioned sentence structuring you use breaks into the flow of the story, but overall I like that more antic sound you've achieved here. The only thing I will caution for, and this is my first chapter so it will probably be better later, but I did get a slightly distant feel from Miriel -her thoughts- with the older sentence stricture.
However, again, I did like that you chose to write it thus, and probably in a few chapter I wont notice it, but with a new character, one I don't know much about yet, it might be nice to be pulled into her character more deeply sooner... I am not sure that made much sense?
But well done, I shall work to fit in more reading :D I have noticed you update extremely quickly so I'll have to work not to get too far behind :D
Author's Response: Thank you for reviewing! I would love to keep hearing what you'll think. :) The old structuring is an experiment, I'm trying to recapture the beautiful feeling of antiquity that belongs to the Elves of the Silmarillion. However don't worry, it shows especially when Mìriel is considering in retrospect and thinking to herself; when there is action underway, it gets more narrative and simple. It is difficult to write, you know. ;) (Well, there is a reason why Tolkien is the Professor, and we are the humble fanfic writers. :P)
Wow! That was incredible. I really loved all the foreboding and dark hints you wrote into the beginning, it gives me chills but is so very intriguing.
You write Galadirel so well! She's a terribly complex women who I think must be one of the hardest Tolkien characters to write, but you're right on.
The chemistry between Maedhros/Silme is intense, I cannot wait for more! And I liked your Caranthir, poor guy had to hold a conversation with Galadriel ;D
This is a splendid beginning. Well done
Another lovely chapter! Things are heating up. I do think you have captured Galadriel's willful headstrong spirit very well. Her flame blazes just as brightly as any others.
I thought you described the Feanorian fire exquisitely:
" And yet too often I look on Fëanáro, that still fathered me, as one would look on a wonder one can only suffer or take joy from, and never ask oneself about, nor ever come to fully understand."
"Admiring and wistful seem to me your words, and I cannot deny that Artanis' thought closely resembles them. But when I saw you I saw no fell fire, but a light that was warm and gleaming, yet kind. A light to make things clearer, and not to burn them."
I loved the way you are coming at the issue of burning fea. Meadhros still burns but it is not the destructive fire of Feanor.
:sighs: Meadhros is so hot! I should not be having these thoughts when they were only talking *g*
Silme dancing? That could be every erotic! Whenever I think of sole dancers (Luthian you too) the idea of dancing *for* someone emerges. I am not sure where you will take that scene but even light suggestiveness could be hot. It makes me think of wild wood elves dancing under the starlight ;D
Author's Response: Ghgh, very glad you keep liking it. :) Ah, wat is with Finwions and fire? ;)
You showed yourself a true master of words in this chapter, it was gorgeously done!
"The Sea…too few are the words one might try to say, even as many a poet has attempted to sing of the harmony of the deep. For in the face of such majesty even the best pen is broken; and the attempts are but pale veils before too great a beauty for even the immortals to ever grow used to it. Endless words have the Eldar wrought in praise of gem and star, and dappled light, and growing tree; and sometimes their words have been fair and brilliant, and have graced their objects of newfound shine. But forever the Sea escapes our words, and fills our minds with a voice that, the sages say, speaks of the Music ere the World was made. And in our silence we are uplifted, and something greater than joy, something we have no name for, grows into our spirit, and makes it great."
"He bent, replacing the star among its companions on their bed of rock. When he straightened again, his eyes shone, their emerald made dark by the halflight; and his beauty was greater in that moment than ever before I had seen it. In this corner of Arda stolen from the sight of the Eldar, he was free."
I just love this scene! You captured Maedhors so perfectly, his need for solitude and escape even in the Blessed realm. I think if Silme is not already in love with him there is something wrong with her, for I am sure I have just fallen and fallen hard *sighs*
Cannot wait for more!
Author's Response: Glad you liked it! See, all the time it took to squeeze it out was not in vain...;)
WOW! That was intense, and wonderfully so! You wield words like few other authors can, and it is a privilege to read.
This is my favorite chapter so far! Painfully passionate and desperate, simply exquisite in the emotions you brought up in me:
"Can't you guess that for me it is the same? And yet I look at you, Silmë, and see a light that I do not wish to blight, that I cannot bear to dim. It was sweet to see by it for a while; but what my blood touches, it ruins."
"I do not care!" The words cut my mouth, my controlled despair broke its dam: "Look at me, Maitimo! Mine is the choice. Look at me, and forget the rest. Look at me, and tell me what is it that you ask of me now."
Words like knives, words like wind. Eyes that sought mine, and a hand that rose to touch my face. Reluctantly, until my fingers found it, and entwined with its own.
Reasoned choices, choices unthought of. And the truth that slips off the tongue, as simple as the light.
"Remain. Not for a day, not for a season. For the eternity of the Eldar, remain with me."
Broken paths that eventually meet.
I let him embrace me, and his fire did not burn.
Well done, so very very well done!
You just broke my heart! I seriously teared up a bit on this chapter, and its only the beginning! It's Fingon's fault, you wrote that scene so beautifully I couldn't help it!
Holding my breath, I watched the cousin I had known and loved all my life, and I could not recognize him in the distorted features on his face. Findekáno battled to contain himself, rage and something I could not name lighting his eyes with a maddened fire. Maitimo looked at him as if he could not understand; and my voice was frail when I said:
"All that I can do to help divisions, Fino, I shall do…"
He turned on me with a fury that I never saw in him again; and his words were harsh, as alien to his usual self as to seem to belong to a different Elf.
"Be silent! Why did you ever come to Tirion? Why did you not leave before?"
Many things he could have added; many things he wanted to, and his eyes were ablaze. But shaking his head again, as if his emotion was too much even to speak, he turned and strode away; his steps purposeful with a decision that would allow no pardon. Maitimo looked at me, and nodding I let him go; he chased after him, and the two disappeared into the house.
Oh, I cannot bear it! Now you have to write me a Fingon/Meadhors story after this story -pretty please :D You write Maedhors so gorgeously, I want him to end up with Silme, but poor Fingon, he needs Meadhros too!
You have succeeded in working me into a frenzy over this story! My hands are shaking from excitement at this moment!
Author's Response: Thank you! To tell the truth, it wasn't an easy scene to write... so glad it came out well. :D
OMG! You cannot leave us like that! Its just so unfair *g*
Another stunning chapter. I know I've said this many a time, but your word choice weaves the most fantistic pictures!
"But now each of his caresses was a new birth, and the world was revealed in different and novel colours; not all of them pleasant, not all of them kind; but all of them real. I had opened my eyes. And if a day should come when a price should be demanded for this knowledge, for this intensity bordering on pain, I would pay it without regret.
It is a promise I have kept. Now I know love can flay you, forcing you to live without skin in a world that is harsh and raw."
You have a talent for tearing my heart out with with the beauty and doom dripping from your every line, and I love it!
Author's Response: And I feared doom was coming in too thick...:P Thank you!
Oh Fingon! I need to give him a hug! I was nearly crying over his pain, you wrote it so well. These were another two beautiful chapters, you write angst incredibly well! I still cannot help wishing it could go both ways for Maedhros, I wish he could be with Silme AND Fingon (what's wrong with a good old threesome? LOL). But happy endings, are not always possible :(
I liked how you wrote Galadriel like Feanor! Wonderful insight, and something we do not see enough. They were indeed of the some blood.
One thing I will say, is that I got a little confused when you switched from the betrothal night to jump ahead nine years. Maybe you might want to smooth that out a little, and make it a more followable transition? Even just a transition break * would probably work.
All this foresight, and premonition is getting to me! Even though I know what's coming you are still getting me worked up, and knotted with worry! Ah Feanor! I usually like him, but your writing just makes me want to just hit him! I loved how he complemented Nerdanel on her work though, he still loves her, I know it!
Cannot wait for more, even if I am dreading the future, I know your writing will swore with all that angst :D
Author's Response: Hi there! Ghgh, told you, angsty Fingon. No, afraid this can't go both ways. I'll be sincere, I was sorry too. :( Grrr, the transition break was there when I pasted. Thanks for pointing out it got erased. Off to editing. :D
Oh man talk about angsty! This was a captivating chapter, one I devoured!
I am still enjoying your take on Feanor, mostly because its different from how I see him, so its refreshing. You make me want to shake some sense into his haughty tongue!
Oh Maedhros! *swoon* That was a lovely kiss, and he was so intense in this chapter, I loved it :hugs:
Cannot wait for more!
Author's Response: I knew you would like this....0:)
I absolutely loved this! Wow, just wow! Silme's last conversation with her mother was so heart shedding, but so revealing. And the way you described Formnos, the twins, Canarthir was perfect!
"Gray twist of time, black back of fate. Alone, listening to the madness that grew around him, for madness it was to forge weapons in the land the Powers had for so long held in peace. Listening to his brothers' voices grow darker. Forgetting who he had been, for every memory was a pain sharpened to wound his heart, until nothing was left of our ancient joy but unhealed scars."
I was tearing up! This chapter just left me speechless! It is gorgeous.
And Silme and Matmio. What can I say? Perfection. Absolutely beautiful.
Author's Response: Well, I suppose then I can be at peace now. ;)
Wow girl! I swear every chapter gets better and better!
I loved how you described Celegorm, a caged spirit! That’s how I think they all must have been during the exile, the Valar really just didn’t get elves. They couldn’t understand such wild free spirits, and they understand human’s even less! –well that’s my Valar bashing for the day lol
I loved the interaction between Maedhros and Feanor. I like how hopeful you make Maedhros, he’s determined to see the bright side. I want him to stay like this forever!
I let my fingers find the edge of his shirt, I let my arms draw it high, over his head. A small gesture of their tips and it was cast aside, crumpled linen on the rug. I did not care. For the splendour of his body was all my eyes could perceive, the heat of his flesh all my skin would remember as his own fingers undid the laces of my nightgown. They trembled; even as I did.
There is a place where all words are lost; and it was in his arms in that night that I found it. Darkness was forgotten; and so was light. We were beyond them, for this night, for this borrowed silence, for the long drumming of our blood was all that existed. Lying awake in our embrace, skin against skin, gambling our promise on the sharp edge of the desire we tempered even as we resisted it. Learning patience for another ten years of wait. Dreaming not, sleeping not, until morning came.
Exquisite! I thought that maybe just maybe you were going to change it for a second there, and have them bind ;) I loved this part, such elegant beauty in your words.
Another outstanding chapter :D
Author's Response: Thank you, m'dear...glad you liked it! Ahah, definitely, even if I was tempted too for a moment - 0:) - I'm sticking by the idea you so heartily approved for the delicate matter of binding. ;) Poor Celegorm indeed! And here the carrier pigeons make their first appearance. ^^ Hope you'll keep liking future updates!
Another splendid chapter! You captured the darkness and doom so beautifully!
I loved how you wrote Feanorian's grief here, On his face he fell, like wheat when the sickle reaps it in the field, and for a moment we feared that his heart had been broken, and he had fallen dead. Nolofinwë bent upon him, concerned for his brother even as his face was twisted with pain upon hearing our news; and love and concern were written upon his brow. But Fëanáro refused all help, and rising alone he cried against the Powers assembled: "What have you done to me, that you have held me here while it was slain and stolen the better part of myself?"
Very powerful! I think people often overlook how much he loved his father, and emphasis his lost jewels more, but I liked how you remind us of his great love for Finwë. And also that glimpse of Indis's grief.
And so now it begins, the doom. Great chapter!
Author's Response: Thank you! I was sure you would appreciate the half a ton of angst scattered through this...:D
This was a heavy chapter. I have read the Oath many times, and each time it shakes one to the bone. This chapter was chilling and dark, you captured the confusion, pain, and blackness of this day flawlessly.
Eating was another way of crying.
Wordlessly I sat beside her, a hunger that was an appeal for all we had lost awakening in the pit of my stomach, a greed for things that would be beautiful and kind burning my tongue, my throat. The butter was soft on my raw fingers as I spread it on a thick slice, the prosaicity of the gesture telling me of a time and place that did not belong to us anymore. One where light still existed, and Finwë was not dead. I bit into the bread, and chewed angrily. It was finished too soon, and I prepared myself another piece.
What a tough topic to engage in! You fit their grief alongside their need to fill the void with food, so perfectly. Here in a chapter stuffed full of powerful imagery, and dark issues, you have slid this one in as well, and I thank-you for writing on something as taboo as emotional eating.
Truly I knew now that his sons' fear had not been groundless, and that, first of the Elves to do it, he could have taken back by his own hand the life the One had given him, and slain himself.
I think you describe Feanor in this moment perfectly. The way you related his love for the Silmarils, and the fact that they held a part of him, and with these loss and his father’s the very real peril of him committing suicide was revealed. It was exactly how I see it, but could never put it half so elegantly as you did : D
"Fëanáro! Brother of my father! Nothing we know of Middle-earth, here we were born far from it; but in your words I see the blazing splendour of its stars, the boundless extension of his plains; in your words I see the realms that there we would make! I shall follow you!"
The eyes of the King turned to her, and never would they, he and her, again be so alike;:their eyes twin gems, their wills twin iron. I understood then that all prudence was forgotten, and all hope lost.
All sanity lost indeed! But I loved how we painted Galadriel in this chapter especially. Masterfully done.
Author's Response: Thank you! I am very glad you like it. It was heavy to write, doubt it not. As for the emotional eating, I always thought that people as fond of eating as the Elves - as we are shown they are several times in LotR - might well be prone to it. Glad you thought it fit. :)
Still she would not look at me. Fëanáro had turned. His eyes met hers, they held her gaze for a long moment, as if he understood. As if he could have healed her, erased with a word, a glance the weight that had descended upon Artanis the Fearless, the guilt as heavy as lead upon her shoulders. As if he could have done all this; but wished it not. For he turned his back on her, and would not look at her again.
I am still loving how you write Galadriel. She’s not actually one of my favorite characters, though she is beyond complex, but I really enjoy seeing this power struggle between her and Feanor. Well done.
You really wrote the wrath of Uìnen beautifully! It was stunning, though it left me fuming! Usually at this moment in the story I am raging at the Feaniorian’s (though I love them) but the injustice of their attack upon the Teleri usually guts me. But while reading this part this time I was struck with rage at Uìnen. I felt the helplessness of the Noldor in the face of her power. They were defenseless, mere elves battling against a god. What Uìnen did was so utterly wrong; she violated the power Eru had given her.
His eyes then sought mine, and the abyss I had guessed in that far day in the sea-cave, the abyss in which I had lived with him in the years of our exile, was open and bottomless; and it hit me hard and fast and sudden, full comprehension of what it was, now, to be Fëanáro’s eldest; to be tied to his will, to bear his legacy in one’s blood. Part of his spirit, spark of his fire, until the world should end. No, he would do nothing; for nothing there was he could do.
Gods this is heartbreaking! I just love the way your write Maedhros: stunning, achingly magnificent.
as he advanced in the water, as clawing at the Sea he cried, and in his cry were anguish and wrath, and rejected love.
Woman! I cannot barely take this! Feanor’s betrayal of Fingolfin always claws at my heart, and you wrote it so…I don’t even have words right now! This whole chapter was just magnificent!
Author's Response: Thank you dearest! Very glad you like it so. :)
This was an intense chapter, and I absolutely loved it! The death scene of Feanor, the emptiness of Maedhros’s eyes it was all so powerful! Every sentence, every word you write grips me, and shakes my bones! It’s simply exquisite. This tale is truly epic, one not easily put down and certainly not forgotten.
I loved the interactions between Fingon and Silmë:
“You were not alone in being betrayed.”
His eyes met mine then; and hatred had disappeared from their depth. They were mirrors of my own; but lost in bitterness uncountable in disappointment and betrayal.
I am waiting for the moment when she realizes Fingon is in love with Maedhros, that his love is equal to her own. Love of Maedhros will be his doom; just as it will hers, and yet there is not even the bittersweet taste of honeyed memory’s the shield the pain. Oh, this is just tearing my heart out! And I love it.
Author's Response: Thank you dear! I am so very happy you liked this. I couldn't wait to have Fino back friendly myself. And poor him, indeed. :( (As for your first paragraph, now I'm blushing.)
Wow! This was just as gorgeous as I remembered :D
He breathed in and smelled rose-beds in hot gardens, the hawthorn odor of Elgalad’s hair, never forgotten, he smelled the air before a storm, and other scents that his memory chased and could not recognize. He felt silk and rain on hot skin and sex, tasted wine and fruit bleeding sweet juice and coppery blood. If the door had been a person, he or she would be that storm of tempting, visceral beauty."
That was so beautiful, I felt as if I could smell, taste, feel the door myself!
"In the long blind explosion he heard his own torn voice. He rushed into her: thought, bone, opened veins, and the sum of what he was poured into his seed. Her body sang around the pounding of his release and it subsumed him, made a double heartbeat of his orgasm. His hands tightened on her hips and pulsed again and she drank up all the gathered frustrations, all of his ruthless, gnawing hunger. It racked him in ecstasy so profound that it bled into agony and she was there, outside of his skin and inside of it, holding him in her breath, smoothing him down with warm fingers. The last of it passed through him in a sweet and drowsy wind, lulling his clamoring blood, and she fell over him like a dusk of moist skin and blessed him with her hair and sleepy smile and a single panting kiss that tasted of brimstone. A scent of dreams came in off the desert, wrapped up in starlight and the memory of heat."
That has to be the most breathtaking orgasm I have ever read! Seriously, you lady's out do yourselves in this story, it will never stop amazing me. The imagery, the wording, it is poetry and pounding emotions, and sweeping plot twists all at its finest!
"Elgalad, he thought, with a sudden drop that left his heart hollow. Did he exist in this world? If he did, he had never known Vanimórë and that hurt him. He felt it like a death, as if some mocking god had taken away something sweet and precious, the little gem he had hidden, the only thing that had not been taken from him. He pounded the emotion down, brutal with himself because he had to be. It went beyond irony – this longing for familiarity, for his old life, for he would have to be truly insane to wish to go back to that. Yet it was what he knew, and he had molded a life for himself, even as life had molded him, so that he fitted into it. That sense of not fitting was what beat panic-wings about his mind."
This part is still so hard to read! No matter how much delight Van takes in this new found 'freedom' I wonder if it will ever be quite real. It is almost a torture to dangle what could be before him, yet the cost of what could be, this freedom, is so high. Free of Sauron, but the only thing he's ever love taken. Worse then taken form him, for it was as if Elgalad had never been.