G-50 - Erulisse - On Eagle's Wings
Mar. 15th, 2012 12:18 pmB2MeM Challenge: G-50 Maglor in History – First Flight by the Wright Brothers
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maglor
Pairings: None
Word Count: 727
Summary: Maglor has always wanted to fly since he was very young. Now he witnesses the first successful flight by the Wright Brothers and thoughts of the future crowd his mind.
On Eagle’s Wings
I always wanted to fly. I watched the eagles soar around Taniquetil, the hawks catch the updrafts over Tirion, and the sea birds cruising above the shoreline near Alqualondë, and always my spirit wanted to be with them and see through their eyes.
I remember pointing out the eagles to my father when I was quite young and we had been summoned to meet with Lord Manwë. “Atar,” I had said, “can I fly?” I had been watching the birds so intently that I actually walked directly into a tree, causing both Lord Manwë and Lady Varda to laugh softly.
“Would you like to see the great birds closer?” Lord Manwë asked me. I nodded assent with enthusiasm, as only a young elf could, and he took me up in his arms. “We will return shortly, Fëanáro. Such curiosity should be satisfied.” My Atar, although I suspect he was not pleased, remained behind while the Vala carried me through various rooms of his mansion, finally stopping at a lavishly-furnished room with a high, overhanging balcony just off to the side.
I spared little attention to the accoutrements of the room; my focus was on the wide open air on the other side of the balcony railing. Lord Manwë, knowing far better than I how impulsive young elves could be, held on to me tightly as he walked onto the suspended platform. He summoned one of his eagles to perch on the railing in front of me. Anyone else would have humbly requested the presence of such airy royalty. Lord Manwë commanded the bird to present itself to us. It was a lesson that I took to heart and one that I remembered many bitter years later.
I was still held tightly by the Vala, but stretched out my hand to the eagle with glee. “Can I fly? I want to see.” I turned my head back to Lord Manwë. “Can I fly, please?”
“Nay, little one, it is not in the nature of your people to fly and the eagles are not beasts of burden. Yet, from this tall perch you can see somewhat of what they see as they soar in the air above us.”
I looked out over the mountain peaks and sheltered valleys that were spread out beneath the platform, and was allowed to stroke the sturdy feathers of the bird. The eagle was surprisingly gentle with me, even exchanging a few words with me. As it turned to leave us, it glanced sharply in my direction, preened under his wing pulling out a single feather, and put it gently into my hand. “Hold onto this gift of flight, young Macalaurë, and use my quill later in your life to allow your notes to soar as high as I and my brethren do. We shall be watching you as you grow, for in your heart you are one of us.” The eagle spread his magnificent wings and launched from the railing. My breath caught from the beauty of the calculated fall and swift rise that followed. Long afterwards I used the eagle’s quill to write the Noldolantë, the composition which I am most famed for, that stirring vocal poem of the tragedy of my family and my people.
But it was the drop and subsequent rising of the eagle’s flight that I was recalling today as I walked the dunes of the Outer Banks, near the town of Kill Devil Hills. I heard an engine and excited voices coming from the other side of the sand dune, closer to the ocean. Walking up towards the crest, I saw the most extraordinary thing on the other side – a construct of wood and fabric, powered by an engine that drove a propeller similar to what you might find on a boat. The entire machine was steered by a young man and it was actually ten feet above the ground. The entire time aloft was short, less than a full minute, but I could see clearly that these two ebullient young men had the right of it. I could foresee that they would, if they continued honing and improving their machine, be able to conquer heavier-than-air mechanized flight. My thoughts moved back to my far past and Taniquetil once more and I smiled. Maybe someday soon I will finally have my wish for flight fulfilled after all.
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maglor
Pairings: None
Word Count: 727
Summary: Maglor has always wanted to fly since he was very young. Now he witnesses the first successful flight by the Wright Brothers and thoughts of the future crowd his mind.
On Eagle’s Wings
I always wanted to fly. I watched the eagles soar around Taniquetil, the hawks catch the updrafts over Tirion, and the sea birds cruising above the shoreline near Alqualondë, and always my spirit wanted to be with them and see through their eyes.
I remember pointing out the eagles to my father when I was quite young and we had been summoned to meet with Lord Manwë. “Atar,” I had said, “can I fly?” I had been watching the birds so intently that I actually walked directly into a tree, causing both Lord Manwë and Lady Varda to laugh softly.
“Would you like to see the great birds closer?” Lord Manwë asked me. I nodded assent with enthusiasm, as only a young elf could, and he took me up in his arms. “We will return shortly, Fëanáro. Such curiosity should be satisfied.” My Atar, although I suspect he was not pleased, remained behind while the Vala carried me through various rooms of his mansion, finally stopping at a lavishly-furnished room with a high, overhanging balcony just off to the side.
I spared little attention to the accoutrements of the room; my focus was on the wide open air on the other side of the balcony railing. Lord Manwë, knowing far better than I how impulsive young elves could be, held on to me tightly as he walked onto the suspended platform. He summoned one of his eagles to perch on the railing in front of me. Anyone else would have humbly requested the presence of such airy royalty. Lord Manwë commanded the bird to present itself to us. It was a lesson that I took to heart and one that I remembered many bitter years later.
I was still held tightly by the Vala, but stretched out my hand to the eagle with glee. “Can I fly? I want to see.” I turned my head back to Lord Manwë. “Can I fly, please?”
“Nay, little one, it is not in the nature of your people to fly and the eagles are not beasts of burden. Yet, from this tall perch you can see somewhat of what they see as they soar in the air above us.”
I looked out over the mountain peaks and sheltered valleys that were spread out beneath the platform, and was allowed to stroke the sturdy feathers of the bird. The eagle was surprisingly gentle with me, even exchanging a few words with me. As it turned to leave us, it glanced sharply in my direction, preened under his wing pulling out a single feather, and put it gently into my hand. “Hold onto this gift of flight, young Macalaurë, and use my quill later in your life to allow your notes to soar as high as I and my brethren do. We shall be watching you as you grow, for in your heart you are one of us.” The eagle spread his magnificent wings and launched from the railing. My breath caught from the beauty of the calculated fall and swift rise that followed. Long afterwards I used the eagle’s quill to write the Noldolantë, the composition which I am most famed for, that stirring vocal poem of the tragedy of my family and my people.
But it was the drop and subsequent rising of the eagle’s flight that I was recalling today as I walked the dunes of the Outer Banks, near the town of Kill Devil Hills. I heard an engine and excited voices coming from the other side of the sand dune, closer to the ocean. Walking up towards the crest, I saw the most extraordinary thing on the other side – a construct of wood and fabric, powered by an engine that drove a propeller similar to what you might find on a boat. The entire machine was steered by a young man and it was actually ten feet above the ground. The entire time aloft was short, less than a full minute, but I could see clearly that these two ebullient young men had the right of it. I could foresee that they would, if they continued honing and improving their machine, be able to conquer heavier-than-air mechanized flight. My thoughts moved back to my far past and Taniquetil once more and I smiled. Maybe someday soon I will finally have my wish for flight fulfilled after all.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-15 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-15 08:16 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)