Day 1: Caesura (Tumblr Crosspost)
Nov. 17th, 2025 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
endless_natteringsDay 1 Prompt: Míriel Þerindë and Indis
Summary: Predictable as it may be, it started like most things do when it comes to the Eldar, with starlight. Starlight, songs in a field bathed in darkness, and laughter rippling over the water of a lake.
Relationships: Indis/Finwë, Indis/Míriel (Implied)
AO3 Link
Author's Note: I still really love this one, I might actually expand on it someday. (Also, highly recommend clicking through on the tumblr link for this one, because a wonderful artist did some fantastic art there and I'm still not sure what the etiquette is on intersite reccing). Also
1) Anacrusis
All the curtains were drawn tight over the windows the day she moved into the house of Finwë and dark heavy cloth covered the furniture. The dimness had almost stung her eyes and her new husband had apologized with a bashful expression on his face.
He blamed his visit to Ingwë, and his son’s recent apprenticeship for the lonely state of the house. With both of them gone it was more convenient to close the house, kinder on the staff too. And, he said, he had been so caught up in all the celebrations, that sending word to open it had completely escaped him.
It was sweet that he fussed over her comfort. So kind to be worried about something so small. As though she hadn’t been on the Great Journey with all their kin over to Aman. She knew darkness and discomfort well, and this? Well, this was nothing.
So she waved his worries off with a smile and a brush of her lips to his fingertips. Curtains could be pulled open, and furniture uncovered and dusted. This sort of problem was easily solved with no great effort or pain.
The softness that washed over his face in relief was as sweet as his worry had been, and in the low light in the hall she was reminded of past lives bathed in twilight as he led her further into the house.
The morning after her wedding she woke well before her husband did. Gently taking all the care not to disturb him, she tip toed out of their bedchamber, shawl thrown over her nightclothes.
It was almost too simple, too easy, for her feet to lead her to a room in the eastern wing of the house. The dust was more heavily set there, the air stale and heavy.
She drew the curtains covering the curved wall on the furthest side of the room, revealing a set of tall stained glass windows. She sat on the raised bench by them, forehead resting on the glass.
It was still early enough in the day for the tree-light that bathed the room to be distorted by the decorated glass. It fell on a half-finished tapestry and for a moment it almost looked like it was starlight dancing on the threads.
Indis took a deep steadying breath, eyes closed and lips parted. But the song that had been playing in her head died in her throat. At least it had not come out a sob.
(Predictable as it may be, it started like most things do when it comes to the Eldar, with starlight. Starlight, songs in a field bathed in darkness, and laughter rippling over the water of a lake.)
2) Dal Segno
There is not a soul living who would deny, Curufinwë Fëanaro was his father’s son. With that hair of his, dark as a raven’s wing, and his eyes the same gray as the sky in a storm. He even had the same strong set brow and jaw. In everything that he did, he was the king’s son through and through.
And everyday Indis woke up eternally grateful for it.
It was selfish some would say, perhaps even bordering on unkind, but it made his animosity towards her easier to bear. Maybe if things had been different it would have stung more, she would have hurt at every snub and slight. But he had so much of Finwë in him, she could in turn treat his visits with the grace and civility they required. Today would be no exception, if anything it was more important than ever for dinner to go smoothly, as he was bringing the stone worker girl he was courting to finally meet his family. She might even be able to expect him to be on his best behavior at that.
As if summoned by her thoughts she heard the sound of her husband greeting his son with pure delight. She would not be needed just yet, but curiosity won out enough for her to lean over the balustrade, watching the scene with mild amusement. They were the same as always, two drops of water reflected in each other.
At Fëanaro’s side was the nís he had apparently been unable to stop talking about, or so Finwë had confided, though he had neglected to mention her sharp eyes and the dark hair that caught fire in the light of the trees. If Indis had a better relationship with Finwë’s son, she might have teased him about how smitten he clearly was.
Father and son finished their conversation, and her husband excused himself, ostensibly to find the rest of his family. Then, the nís leaned over to Fëanaro, whispering into his ear. And his face melted into something fond and bright, before he dissolved into a fit of laughter. His eyes darkening into an all too familiar shade with mirth, hand pressed against his lover’s shoulder for support, and-
Oh… He’s all Míriel when he loves. The wretched, traitorous thought spilled over her mind before she could catch it.
(She’d been envious the first time she’d seen it. The full bodied joy that seemed to take over her in those rare moments of safety and merriment. Envious until she had become the reason for the smiles and the laughter.)
3) Ritornello
She had once dreamed of wearing starlight in her hair. Indis had forgotten, or maybe she had chosen to forget, until that moment. Sitting on soft pillows as she watched her youngest son dance with his fresh faced bride.
Eärwen spun around, the threads of gold woven into her hair catching the light of the trees. Aranfinwë’s own hair was decorated with silver ribbons and she had never seen him smile wider. She had thought it a marvelous idea when they’d discussed it with her. Now she felt the slight sting of tears in her eyes.
She excused herself with a quiet word to her husband. He was kind enough to offer her his company, and trusting enough to not question her when she dismissed his concerns. It was one of his best qualities, the ability to not see her weakness. She did not think she would have been able to bear it if he did.
She followed an oft forgotten path to one of the old gardens, built in those early tentative years of Tirion, and since abandoned for others more elegant and fine. Leaving the stone walkways and walls overtaken by the ivy and wisteria running wild. A natural conclusion to that thirst for improvement and perfection so common among the Noldor.
She walked down the cracked cobblestones till she reached a bend in the path by a pair of willows standing guard at the edge of a pond, their heavy branches drooping down to kiss the water.
She did not bother worrying about keeping the mud and dirt off of her dress as she ducked in below the branches to sit down, simply letting herself crumple to the ground, back resting against the bark of a tree.
Telperion’s light filtered and splintered through the leaves, spilling on the ground below like so many shining jewels. With her eyes closed and the breeze caressing her skin she could almost-
“Ammë?” Her eldest daughter’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “You left the revel so suddenly, atar said you were fine but I was worried something had upset you.”
“Do you think your father would lie to you my darling?” Her own voice calm as the still waters in front of her.
“No, of course not-”
“Then why not believe him when he tells you I am fine?” Indis’ daughter was sweet for letting her so rudely interrupt. “You should rejoin the others dearest, I would hate for you to miss out on the dancing.”
Sweet, stubborn Findis made no move to leave but neither did she protest any further. At least not verbally, choosing instead to spare a glance at her mother’s grass stained dress and the leaves stuck in her now unbound hair.
Indis did not need to gently prod at her daughter’s mind to know her thoughts. In the moment, she looked nothing like the queen she ought to be. Poised and polished and never caught off guard.
She could not and would not fault her daughter for whatever judgment she passed within the confines of her mind, Aman was the only world she knew after all. In Aman a queen did not run around the fields and ducking into bushes.
(There were dried leaves caught in silvery braids and mud speckled all over the hem of her dress when Indis saw her walk back into camp, arms full of stinging nettles and a mischievous smile that said she had just come up with some bright, if unadvised, idea.)
4) Cadenza:
“
I could make that you know?” The words sounded far off and dream-like as the girl at her side reached a hand far above them.
“Make what?” Indis tried to follow the gesture with her eyes. In vain. “That’s just the sky you’re pointing to.”
“Not the sky, the stars!” Míriel laid back on the grass, a sigh escaping her lips. “I’m getting so close to figuring out how to make the thread as thin and strong as I need it to be. Now all that’s left is finding the right tools and dye, and some way to replicate the starlight.”
Indis could not help but let out a breathless laugh at that. “If it’s just that you’ve got left to do, you’re almost there.”
“Laugh all you want! We’ll thread my stars in your hair soon enough!” Míriel’s voice was full of all that was joy and hope.
Something bold fluttered in Indis’ chest and flew up till the words died in her mouth. “My hair? Why?” She asked instead.
Míriel turned away from the starry sky to look at her. “Silver on silver would blend in too much. They would suit your gold much better.” She paused, “Maybe I’ll make golden ones as well, we could wear them both then. But we’d be the only ones, I will not share them with the others.”
Warmth crept up Indis’ cheeks and for once she was grateful of the darkness they had been born into. “It still sounds impossible, stars are so far away for a reason. But if anyone can do it, it would be you.”
Before knowing Míriel as she did, Indis had not thought it possible to be able to feel someone smile. And yet, she had no need to look over to her side to know the grin on her companion’s face could have outshone any light hung high in the sky.
Please forgive the probably not so apt musical terms, I tried to match in theme and vibe but it had been a while since I'd sat in a music class when I wrote this (it's been longer now).
