B-4 - Erulisse - In the Steps of Pharaoh
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b2memB2MeM Challenge: B-4 – Maglor in History 1 – Construction of the Pyramids, Sons of Fëanor – Maedhros Alone Stood Aside
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maglor
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1248
Summary: Maglor, now an overseer at the Tura Quarry, watches the boats getting loaded with the latest load of limestone blocks. The water pulls his memories back to another shore and white ships.
In the Steps of Pharaoh
I walk along the quay next to the river watching as the limestone blocks are being loaded into the cedar and papyrus ships. Each of the ships is able to hold one of the large stone blocks, although they sink quite low in the water and are unwieldy to row and steer because of the great weight. Sails are used sparingly but are necessary since the quarry is across the Nile and slightly upstream from the landing site. Days featuring soft winds from the highlands are ideal, on those days the boatmen smile. But they have performed this act hundreds of times before and are highly skilled, no matter the weather.
The dressed blocks will be placed in the pyramid which is currently under construction near the western shore of the river, at Giza, just north of Memphis. It has been a long process of construction, but it is nearing its end.
I started work as a quarry laborer more than fifteen years ago, but I’ve been promoted several times and am now an Overseer. I am responsible for a section of the quarry, making sure that my team of laborers meets our daily quota of limestone block production. I also supervise a team of polishers who specialize in the smooth finished capstones that are so highly prized. These must be made to exacting standards in both size and surface finish. I report directly to a sub-Vizier who reports to Pharaoh’s Ear who reports to Pharaoh himself.
We quarry two types of limestone blocks here in Tura quarry, the rough, square blocks for the interior walls, and the highly finished capstone blocks; so highly polished that the sun blinks from her reflected brilliance. The interior walls and galleries also feature smoothly fit stones from this quarry, but they were cut to their final shapes by trained teams at the construction site, thus assuring each stone was an exact fit.
Although most of the stone used in the pyramid is limestone, there are also selectively used granite slabs, massive, heavy, and resilient. These became the seven stress-relieving capstones above the main chamber and the three large slabs in the antechamber. The granite was sailed downriver from a quarry near Aswan, a long way from the Delta region.
I go across the Nile to Giza every now and again to view the pyramid and examine where our next load of stone will be placed. The architecture of the pyramid is a marvel of engineering, featuring a high entrance moving into a split passageway a short way inside. The upper passageway eventually leads into a long high-vaulted gallery, leading up to a small antechamber with three upright granite slabs, and finally to the main chamber featuring five granite stress-relieving capstones on top of it with two more angled above the stack as if creating a roof. This design will protect the interior chamber from earthquakes which sometimes strike the area.
The pyramid and everything about it is monumental. I have enjoyed working on this project, but I have already been in Egypt for too long. It is time to move on.
Looking at the men loading the boats and a group of younger boys standing to the side watching them, I suddenly see another landing and another body of water, white ships and dark waters. I shiver under the hot sun, a chill suddenly striking my heart.
Despite the Ages between now and then, I remember all too well the words of my father. Maedhros had begged him to fulfill his promise and send the ships west for Uncle Fingolfin's people to use. More than two-thirds of the Noldorin people who had followed us from Tirion were still on the western shore. Instead of listening to my brother's pleas, Father had pushed him aside and thrown the first torch into the nearest white vessel.
I was confused and hesitated, thus joining in the burning through both inactivity and numbness. My Father's personality was strong in both its force and its madness. I felt that the swan ships of the Teleri were beautiful and that such beauty should not be destroyed, but I still threw a fiery brand onto the decking of a nearby vessel. Such was the power of my Father's will. When I looked back towards my family I saw that they all stood together except Maedhros. He stood to one side, hands clenched at his side and a look of hopeless anger on his face.
He did not come close to our father again until Fëanor was fighting for his life, besieged by the minions of Morgoth. At that time it was Maedhros' mighty blade that was instrumental in his rescue. Father died shortly thereafter from wounds he had received in this short but violent battle, and my brother became the head of the family, the third of an immortal line suddenly beset by mortality. I still remember how saddened and empty my brother's gaze was when Morgoth's forces offered parlay. I feel to this day, although I never asked him directly, that he rode into the clutches of our Enemy because the two he had loved the most were gone. Our Father had died, and Findekáno was separated from him by the angry seas and the Grinding Ice. It was fortunate for him that his lover lived up to his moniker, 'The Valiant' and dared the journey by foot, finally rejoining us in Middle Earth, on the other side of the Helcaraxë.
I shook my head harshly. I could not daydream while the stone was being loaded, being less than attentive could cost lives and ships. I pushed the land of Endor as it had existed before both sun and moon had appeared back into the far rooms of my memory.
Yes, it was time to leave. I cannot allow myself to forget that I am not of their kind and cannot age as they do. I do not want to be considered a sorcerer; although in this society it probably wouldn't cause my death it would certainly complicate my life. I am unable to teach Pharaoh how to achieve immortality such as I have, and that inability would eventually result in my execution.
I notice that the energies of the men are starting to flag. Pulling my flute from my waistband, I begin playing a serenade of thanks to Hapi for the Inundation to come. I then move smoothly into a hymn to Khnum, another of those deities who control the Nile, this one with a ram’s head. Living this close to the great river it is always wise to thank the gods for a safe voyage to the other shore, for the annual Inundation that allowed the crops to grow here in the desert, and for the blessings of not falling victim to the crocodiles or hippos that frequent the waters. The men catch my tunes and begin singing, setting a rhythm. Their energies are raised again; the power of music has once more proven true.
As I look back on what has been accomplished here I am thankful. I have enjoyed my time in Egypt, although some of their practices are strange to me. Once again, even on these far sun-kissed shores I have found the rhythms of music. Breathing a prayer of thanksgiving to the Valar into my tunes, I continue playing. The sun shines brightly above me and the waters of the Nile lap gently against the quay. For the moment, I am at peace.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maglor
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1248
Summary: Maglor, now an overseer at the Tura Quarry, watches the boats getting loaded with the latest load of limestone blocks. The water pulls his memories back to another shore and white ships.
In the Steps of Pharaoh
I walk along the quay next to the river watching as the limestone blocks are being loaded into the cedar and papyrus ships. Each of the ships is able to hold one of the large stone blocks, although they sink quite low in the water and are unwieldy to row and steer because of the great weight. Sails are used sparingly but are necessary since the quarry is across the Nile and slightly upstream from the landing site. Days featuring soft winds from the highlands are ideal, on those days the boatmen smile. But they have performed this act hundreds of times before and are highly skilled, no matter the weather.
The dressed blocks will be placed in the pyramid which is currently under construction near the western shore of the river, at Giza, just north of Memphis. It has been a long process of construction, but it is nearing its end.
I started work as a quarry laborer more than fifteen years ago, but I’ve been promoted several times and am now an Overseer. I am responsible for a section of the quarry, making sure that my team of laborers meets our daily quota of limestone block production. I also supervise a team of polishers who specialize in the smooth finished capstones that are so highly prized. These must be made to exacting standards in both size and surface finish. I report directly to a sub-Vizier who reports to Pharaoh’s Ear who reports to Pharaoh himself.
We quarry two types of limestone blocks here in Tura quarry, the rough, square blocks for the interior walls, and the highly finished capstone blocks; so highly polished that the sun blinks from her reflected brilliance. The interior walls and galleries also feature smoothly fit stones from this quarry, but they were cut to their final shapes by trained teams at the construction site, thus assuring each stone was an exact fit.
Although most of the stone used in the pyramid is limestone, there are also selectively used granite slabs, massive, heavy, and resilient. These became the seven stress-relieving capstones above the main chamber and the three large slabs in the antechamber. The granite was sailed downriver from a quarry near Aswan, a long way from the Delta region.
I go across the Nile to Giza every now and again to view the pyramid and examine where our next load of stone will be placed. The architecture of the pyramid is a marvel of engineering, featuring a high entrance moving into a split passageway a short way inside. The upper passageway eventually leads into a long high-vaulted gallery, leading up to a small antechamber with three upright granite slabs, and finally to the main chamber featuring five granite stress-relieving capstones on top of it with two more angled above the stack as if creating a roof. This design will protect the interior chamber from earthquakes which sometimes strike the area.
The pyramid and everything about it is monumental. I have enjoyed working on this project, but I have already been in Egypt for too long. It is time to move on.
Looking at the men loading the boats and a group of younger boys standing to the side watching them, I suddenly see another landing and another body of water, white ships and dark waters. I shiver under the hot sun, a chill suddenly striking my heart.
Despite the Ages between now and then, I remember all too well the words of my father. Maedhros had begged him to fulfill his promise and send the ships west for Uncle Fingolfin's people to use. More than two-thirds of the Noldorin people who had followed us from Tirion were still on the western shore. Instead of listening to my brother's pleas, Father had pushed him aside and thrown the first torch into the nearest white vessel.
I was confused and hesitated, thus joining in the burning through both inactivity and numbness. My Father's personality was strong in both its force and its madness. I felt that the swan ships of the Teleri were beautiful and that such beauty should not be destroyed, but I still threw a fiery brand onto the decking of a nearby vessel. Such was the power of my Father's will. When I looked back towards my family I saw that they all stood together except Maedhros. He stood to one side, hands clenched at his side and a look of hopeless anger on his face.
He did not come close to our father again until Fëanor was fighting for his life, besieged by the minions of Morgoth. At that time it was Maedhros' mighty blade that was instrumental in his rescue. Father died shortly thereafter from wounds he had received in this short but violent battle, and my brother became the head of the family, the third of an immortal line suddenly beset by mortality. I still remember how saddened and empty my brother's gaze was when Morgoth's forces offered parlay. I feel to this day, although I never asked him directly, that he rode into the clutches of our Enemy because the two he had loved the most were gone. Our Father had died, and Findekáno was separated from him by the angry seas and the Grinding Ice. It was fortunate for him that his lover lived up to his moniker, 'The Valiant' and dared the journey by foot, finally rejoining us in Middle Earth, on the other side of the Helcaraxë.
I shook my head harshly. I could not daydream while the stone was being loaded, being less than attentive could cost lives and ships. I pushed the land of Endor as it had existed before both sun and moon had appeared back into the far rooms of my memory.
Yes, it was time to leave. I cannot allow myself to forget that I am not of their kind and cannot age as they do. I do not want to be considered a sorcerer; although in this society it probably wouldn't cause my death it would certainly complicate my life. I am unable to teach Pharaoh how to achieve immortality such as I have, and that inability would eventually result in my execution.
I notice that the energies of the men are starting to flag. Pulling my flute from my waistband, I begin playing a serenade of thanks to Hapi for the Inundation to come. I then move smoothly into a hymn to Khnum, another of those deities who control the Nile, this one with a ram’s head. Living this close to the great river it is always wise to thank the gods for a safe voyage to the other shore, for the annual Inundation that allowed the crops to grow here in the desert, and for the blessings of not falling victim to the crocodiles or hippos that frequent the waters. The men catch my tunes and begin singing, setting a rhythm. Their energies are raised again; the power of music has once more proven true.
As I look back on what has been accomplished here I am thankful. I have enjoyed my time in Egypt, although some of their practices are strange to me. Once again, even on these far sun-kissed shores I have found the rhythms of music. Breathing a prayer of thanksgiving to the Valar into my tunes, I continue playing. The sun shines brightly above me and the waters of the Nile lap gently against the quay. For the moment, I am at peace.
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Date: 2012-03-22 04:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 06:45 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2012-03-22 04:49 pm (UTC)Varda doing nude gymnastics? (I'm not sorry!)All in all, lovely work! :)
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Date: 2012-03-22 06:47 pm (UTC)I am delighted that my scenario works for you. I have studied Egyptology for many years and loved the opportunity to play in that playground. It will be a shame to have to put my maps, etc away again, but it was fun to do a quick bit of research to make sure that I was speaking about these things with accuracy :-)
- Erulisse (one L)
enjoying the entire sound of the squeee from the east :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 05:02 pm (UTC)Moving on from place to place, just keeping ahead of suspicion must have been hard, at least that's what I've started thinking with these prompts and with the modern times E/G I've written. Harder back then, because people aged so much faster than they do now. When a good age is forty-five, ten years can be a long time.
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Date: 2012-03-22 06:49 pm (UTC)I think, on average, Maglor or any immortal would have about 12-20 years in which to operate before having to leave for another locale. That leads to a lot of wandering over Eight Ages of the world.
- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2012-03-22 07:52 pm (UTC)My first thought was "why hasn't he decided to head west to valinor" but then I ignored my nagging mind and just squigged my toes in the Nile. Oh wondrous Nile, mother to the world! Seeing Maglor working on that very first pyramid (although they say now there was one bigger but long since lost in the sands... phooey!) makes me happy; dunno why, perhaps all those years spent reading up on Egypt and hoping to be a sand digger over there. LOL How life does not always cooperate. But am picturing a delightfully good looking Maglor in his linen and wig, quaffing beer, studying plans and making music.
Awesome scene! Thank you!
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Date: 2012-03-22 08:27 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2012-03-22 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 09:50 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2012-03-22 11:17 pm (UTC)From Tolkien's Letters, #153.
So Maglor actually is human.
Pet peeve of mine.
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Date: 2012-03-22 11:33 pm (UTC)If you have a better suggestion on how to phrase that without losing the sense of the sentence, I'd be happy to hear it and change it accordingly if I feel it still meets the criteria of the story.
- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 11:40 pm (UTC)That sentence is inherently contradictory. If you really understand the notion that the elves and men are biologically the same race as per Tolkien's letter? Then you understand why your statement that 'there are some very basic genetic differences' cannot be true. If I have to explain it to you, then you don't understand.
As for the immortality thing - if you want some ideas on how to handle a race of essentially immortal creatures of human stock living among humans and how they hide their immortality, I'd highly recommend Kage Baker's 'Company' series. The first one is called In the Garden of Iden (yes, 'Iden,' not 'Eden'). One of the recurring things that comes up in the novels is how the immortals hide their identity from the rest of the world. And the characters are really engaging, too!
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Date: 2012-03-23 12:34 am (UTC)Really? OK, aside from the fact that elves are immortal and humans are not, which has to be coded in the genomes and DNA, there are also basic appearances (pointed vs rounded ears, stronger musculature without the bulk that a correspondingly strong human would have, the general lack of most body hair except for head hair and perhaps some crotch hair although I'm not sure if that has even been determined as canon or not), and other characteristics that I would certainly be ascribing to genetics, not some human anomaly.
I'm absolutely certain that Tolkien intended them to be able to breed and basically said that they were the same species in his letter but he changed his mind about a lot of things between HOME and what actually ended up getting published in The Hobbit, LOTR and, with editing, the SILM. What amazes me is that he allowed Elf/Man unions to have viable offspring which in turn could also bear viable young with either race. No horse plus donkey equals mule and genetic dead end here. Instead we have a total hodge-podge of people who can gather beneath the sheets and have viable offspring including Maiar, which are most definitely not human.
I'll check out the Kage Baker series, I'm looking for something else to read and I'll check it out. The premise of an immortal race hiding among those who are not immortal is not new, but everyone's approach is different and this may be very fun.
- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-23 11:22 am (UTC)Really. Putting aside any arguments with regard to the biological distinction of Elves and Men (fanon and otherwise), I'm seeing evidence of a bit of lack of understanding of real life scientific concepts, e.g., genotype, phenotype, and speciation. However, this is not the venue to expound upon them, so I'll slap something up on the Bad Clam this weekend, which hopefully might prove to be helpful in potential interpretations and extrapolations to Middle-earth hominids.
Therefore, his sentence I cannot allow myself to forget that I am not human and cannot age as they do. I do not want to be considered a sorcerer; although in this society it probably wouldn't cause my death it would certainly complicate my life is going to stay as is unless I can think of a better way to express the fact that he is an anomaly.
Hmmm. How about I cannot allow myself to forget that I am not
humanof their kind and cannot age as they do. I do not want to be considered a sorcerer; although in this society it probably wouldn't cause my death it would certainly complicate my life?Happy Friday!
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Date: 2012-03-23 12:05 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
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Date: 2012-03-23 11:59 am (UTC)What you're describing are differences in allelic expression, not basic differences in genome.
As for this: he changed his mind about a lot of things between HOME and what actually ended up getting published in The Hobbit, LOTR and, with editing, the SILM.
Show me a citation in which he says that they're two different species, and I won't ever nag you about this point again. Because in addition to the above point, there's this quote from the commentary to the Athrabeth which suggests that he thought of them as being biologically the same species, and the Athrabeth was written fairly late in the game:
The existence of Elves: that is of a race of beings closely akin to Men, so closely indeed that they must be regarded as physically (or biologically) simply branches of the same race.
It's easy to wave your hand and say 'Oh, but he may have changed his mind.' So, give me a citation that backs up your notion that they're biologically different species.
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Date: 2012-03-23 12:05 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)