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b2memB2MeM Challenge: B-4 – Five Books/Five Characters – Námo, Botany – Eleanor
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Námo, Aulë, Vairë, OFC
Pairings: None
Word Count: 2666
Summary: Námo remembers Aulë introducing him to a young elven craftswoman who became one of his best friends because she showed no fear of him.
Fear, Sorrow and Compassion
The Lord of Mandos sat across from his Lady wife, looking at her lovingly, his eyes caressing her form. Her aspect today was dark and sultry, black eyes snapping, tan skin catching the lamplight and looking like soft velvet. He was entranced.
Her elaborately braided hair was caught up behind her head, held in a golden clasp featuring colorful glass enamel depicting small yellow Elanor flowers. His mind slipped back to when he had commissioned the hair piece and met one of the few elves who had never shown fear of him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“What thought crosses your mind, husband? Is there ought that I can do for you this evening to ease your strain or lift your burden?”
“Nay, beloved,” his baritone voice responded. “I was merely thinking about Helyanwë, she who made the hairpiece you wear this evening.”
“Oh yes, Fëanáro’s granddaughter, she made truly exquisite things. The hair clasp is still one of my favorite items made by the Children.”
Námo smiled and lost himself in memory for a short time.
-0-0-0-0-0-
He had decided to visit his brother Aulë, a longstanding invitation that he had kept turning down.
“Come to my forge,” Aulë had said in his booming voice. “I have some apprentices right now who are doing compelling work.”
“I find that the Children are unsettled when they see me,” I had responded.
“I suppose that many of them are. But I've got one young female who won't be, I'll bet.”
My siblings knew that I have always found it difficult to turn down a bet. “Oh? What would you be willing to wager? I have yet to meet any elf who is not even slightly unsettled in my presence..”
Aulë had smiled. “I know you want a new set of gates and that I've been putting off designing them for the sake of more interesting things. I will wager you this. If Helyanwë is indeed frightened in any way when she meets you at my forge, I will begin the design of your gates and you will have them installed before the end of the yeni.
"If, however, I am right and she is unafraid, you will join me for dinner once a month for the next five years. Your Lady is welcome to join us, and Yvanna or others of our brothers and sisters may also decide to attend, but you at least must be there.
"You need to get away from your Halls more often, dearest brother. Although you spend time with Irmo and Nienna, the rest of us rarely see you any more.”
Námo had nodded then asked “Why would she not be afraid of me when all others seem to be?”
Aulë laughingly had said, “For the simple reason that she sees deeply, brother. And deep down, you are not to be feared; rather you are to be pitied.”
Námo had glanced sharply at his brother, but then he shrugged and agreed to visit the forge and test Aulë’s apprentice. Perhaps he would finally get his new gates, and at worst he would get several entertaining meals.
Three weeks later he appeared just outside the walls of Aulë’s forge complex in the far south of Aman. Striding through the archway into the courtyard, he saw his brother coming over to meet him, a broad smile of welcome on his face.
“Brother, welcome to my forges.”
Námo had been interested in this visit, in spite of himself. Although he was familiar with Aulë and Yavanna’s mansion in Valmar, he had never visited Aulë’s workshop and forge before. The complex was quite a bit larger than he had thought it would be. There were several large buildings surrounding a central courtyard, some larger housing for the workers situated behind the workshops, and he could also see the hint of small individual cottages even farther away towards the mountains.
“Let me show you through the workshops,” Aulë had said, and the two of them had proceeded to tour the various activity centers.
First they visited the metals forge. There, Aulë’s workers poured molten metal and forged it into a variety of shapes, discussed varieties of alloys and their properties, and tried to discover new alloys that would expand the tensile and malleability parameters of the currently available metals.
Although Námo wasn’t a metal smith, he, like all of the Valar, had knowledge of chemistry (organic and inorganic) and physics, and had a great appreciation for discovering new facets of knowledge. Although each elf was polite when Námo spoke to them, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty about the Doomsman’s presence running through each of them as well.
As they were leaving to go to the next building, Námo mentioned this to Aulë. “So far each person has reacted as I speculated. Each one, although polite, has been fearful about coming close to me.”
“Worry not,” his brother answered. Helyanwë will be the exception to your rule.
The next large building was dedicated to stone work. The large room was divided into smaller areas by translucent cloths strung up between the walls and from the ceiling beams. Sculptors of varying skill levels were carving and polishing stone into fantastic forms and commissioned works. Here, many years before, a young apprentice named Nerdanel had come to hone her skills. Upon achieving her Mastery, she had returned home, only to meet Fëanáro shortly thereafter and embrace a different destiny.
But again, to Námo’s disappointment, the elves were all hesitant to approach him closely and fearful of looking into his eyes. ‘Oh well, even if I cannot be welcomed as any other Vala would, I may get a new set of gates out of all of this.’ he thought to himself as he brushed at his dark tunic in a futile attempt to rid himself of stone dust.
They walked through some smaller studios, and finally approached the final large building. Chimneys indicated that fires were lit although it was warm outside, telling Námo that the media being used must require heat.
Walking in, Námo noticed three glass furnaces with a number of teams blowing shaped vessels and clear globes of glass that would be shaped into sheets for window coverings. Between each furnace was a door leading to smaller attached studios.
“Your Apprentice works with glass?” he asked Aulë.
“Yes, she loves the medium. Although she is at home at the furnace and the grinders, her love is for decorative glass, most specifically enamel. The far room on the right is for precision grinding for lenses, and for making shapes for measurements of fluids and other scientific usage. The enameling room is here, to the left.” Aulë led the way to the doorway.
There was a small, short passageway with a door to the exterior, allowing the glassworkers to enter and exit without walking through the larger furnace area. At the end of the passage another doorway opened into a large, well-lit room with workbenches on opposing walls. The far back wall had shelving featuring hundreds of containers of colored glass. Some of the glass was ground into fine powder, but most of it was in lump form. In the center of the room were two smaller fires and firebrick kilns for larger vessels and plates and each work bench was equipped with an alcohol blow-torch for spot-firing smaller pieces of enameled metal. There was a low murmur of conversation between a few of the elves on the right side that came to an uncomfortable halt when they noticed Námo among them.
“So, which one of these is your apprentice?” he asked Aulë, seeing that once again fear was palpable among the elves.
“None of them,” Aulë answered. "She is over there,” and he pointed to the far left corner of the room. There sat a young elf with long, platinum blonde hair pulled back into a single braid. She was wearing a device on top of her head that allowed her to augment her vision, and was painting a small disk in front of her with a fine paintbrush. Below her workbench was a small platform holding a pillow and a thrown-back blanket on top of a thin mattress.
“A bed under her workbench?” Námo asked, curiously.
“Fëanáro gave me warning. He told me that she sometimes gets so caught up in a design or project that she will forget to eat or sleep. At times like that he would usually bring food out to her, but he also built her a sleeping platform so that she wouldn’t fall asleep with her head on the workbench.”
“Helyanwë, child, you haven’t put away your bedding,” Aulë said as he walked towards her, gesturing Námo to accompany him.
“Oh, Lord Aulë, I’m so sorry. I awakened with the perfect idea and just had to start work on it immediately. Come and see. I have the …,” she suddenly stopped in mid-word. “Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
She placed her work carefully on its stand, putting a cover over it to protect the powdered glass from breezes or bumps, and removed her lenses from atop her head. Placing everything on her bench top, she turned and bowed deeply. “Forgive me my rudeness, Lord. I tend to get overly focused and intended no insult.”
Námo looked carefully at her, then at Aulë who nodded and motioned him forward. Approaching the young girl, he extended his arm, “Please, rise. I would be very interested in seeing what it is you are working on.”
The glassworker grasped his hand without hesitation and rose from her bow. Her gaze met his unflinchingly, assessing him while he weighed her. Then she turned to her bench.
“My Lords, I was working on a method to be able to show depth in the glasswork without requiring the multiple layers that I currently do in all parts of the design. I thought, overnight, that perhaps if I actually grind into the fused surface in selected parts, then layer glass in small layers with pinpoint heating and careful control of the overall heat; then I can put in more shading and it will begin to look almost as if it has three dimensions.
“I did this test yesterday.” She reached over to her shelving and pulled off a disk featuring yellow Elanor flowers on a black background. “Today I was trying to see how much glass I could compact into a space and the effects of spotted heating instead of full heating. I expect that today’s work will be shattered all over my bench by the time of the mingling.”
She offered Námo the prior day’s small test disk of flowers that she had designed. He carefully took the disk from her, turning it over and over in his hand. He found it beautiful and quite unique.
“This is lovely, child,” Námo said. “Do you accept commission work?”
“You would have to work out details with my Lord Aulë, since I am just an Apprentice in his workshop. But if he agrees, it would give me great pleasure to make something for you, Lord Námo.”
“I did not mention my name to you, yet you know me?”
“I am sorry if that discomforts you, sir. I only know you through the basic descriptions of your appearance. Yet I would have recognized you no matter what you looked like because sorrow and compassion shine from you. There is no-one else you could be.”
“I could be my brother, Irmo or sister, Nienna,” Námo offered. He was curious to find out more about her reasoning.
“No, Lord. Your brother Irmo I met once, when he came to visit my Great-Grandfather Finwë. He did not seem forthright in my eyes. It was as if his honesty was as clouded as the dreams he weaves in Lórien. I did not distrust him, but felt I could not fully trust him either.”
“And my sister, Nienna?”
“Both you and your sister are compassionate. Yet I feel strongly that for you compassion is the dominant feature, yet for her it is sorrow and by the acceptance of that, the cleansing of tears. However, I also feel that the two of you are very close.”
Námo’s eyes closed for a moment. Her assessment of him was hitting a bit closer than he had thought it would.
“Please forgive me, my Lord,” and she dropped to her knees. “I did not mean to cause you any distress.” Looking up at him, she continued, “I feel that although you offer compassion and love to all who pass through your Halls, that you rarely have it offered to you in return. Allow me offer it to you, Lord. Let me offer you the love and compassion that you deserve as much as any other Vala.”
She got back to her feet, slightly embarrassed by her outburst. “And now, on a lighter note before we all get too maudlin, could I offer you some tea on the porch? If you truly want to commission an item from me, we should probably discuss the particulars.”
“Yes … yes.” Námo said, allowing his thoughts to catch up with him again. “Some tea …. Some tea would be very nice.”
Giving a soft smile to him, she reached over to the vase of small yellow flowers that she had been using as her reference. Breaking a small stem away from the rest, she reached up to Námo’s hair, placing the flowers resting on his right ear, nestled in his black hair. Nodding, she turned and walked to the hob to fetch the tea kettle. As she was walking away she said, “Why don’t the two of you go along and get settled. I’ll bring the tea and my sketchbook and we can talk.”
Námo was bemused. As he settled himself on the large porch in a comfortable chair, he looked at his brother. “She has no fear, this one. I think I’ve lost a set of gates and gained a dinner date.”
“Yes, you have lost the bet, brother. But I think she will prove to be a good friend to both you and Vairë. I might have her design your gates at the same time as she does your commission. It would be good practice for her to work with the metal apprentices.
Námo got a distant look on his face. “Fear is something that she will learn to her sorrow, and gravely hurt will she be ‘ere she and I discuss fear again. Yet her compassion and love will save her.”
-0-0-0-0-0-
He and Aulë had spent a pleasant afternoon with the small glassworker, and several preliminary sketches were quickly drawn out for the hairpiece that his Lady was now wearing. She had also designed his new gates with tendrils of green, a riot of colorful flowers and vines, and the sun in eclipse on the center split panel of the wings.
Helyanwë developed a strong friendship with the Vala over the years. They would sometimes meet to walk and talk philosophy, and sometimes when the strains of his job were too much, he would appear in her studio and just sit in the corner watching her work. She would nod to acknowledge him, but never disturbed him unless he showed he wanted to talk. She was content to just let him sit there comfortably. She never knew how much that small escape meant to him.
When her fëa entered his Halls many years later, he remembered her with great affection and carefully watched over her as she slowly healed from the torments of her death and her deep sorrows. Many were the tears of compassion he shed over her while she healed.
A/N
The Sun in Eclipse sigil belongs to Fiondil and I am using it with his permission.
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Námo, Aulë, Vairë, OFC
Pairings: None
Word Count: 2666
Summary: Námo remembers Aulë introducing him to a young elven craftswoman who became one of his best friends because she showed no fear of him.
Fear, Sorrow and Compassion
The Lord of Mandos sat across from his Lady wife, looking at her lovingly, his eyes caressing her form. Her aspect today was dark and sultry, black eyes snapping, tan skin catching the lamplight and looking like soft velvet. He was entranced.
Her elaborately braided hair was caught up behind her head, held in a golden clasp featuring colorful glass enamel depicting small yellow Elanor flowers. His mind slipped back to when he had commissioned the hair piece and met one of the few elves who had never shown fear of him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“What thought crosses your mind, husband? Is there ought that I can do for you this evening to ease your strain or lift your burden?”
“Nay, beloved,” his baritone voice responded. “I was merely thinking about Helyanwë, she who made the hairpiece you wear this evening.”
“Oh yes, Fëanáro’s granddaughter, she made truly exquisite things. The hair clasp is still one of my favorite items made by the Children.”
Námo smiled and lost himself in memory for a short time.
-0-0-0-0-0-
He had decided to visit his brother Aulë, a longstanding invitation that he had kept turning down.
“Come to my forge,” Aulë had said in his booming voice. “I have some apprentices right now who are doing compelling work.”
“I find that the Children are unsettled when they see me,” I had responded.
“I suppose that many of them are. But I've got one young female who won't be, I'll bet.”
My siblings knew that I have always found it difficult to turn down a bet. “Oh? What would you be willing to wager? I have yet to meet any elf who is not even slightly unsettled in my presence..”
Aulë had smiled. “I know you want a new set of gates and that I've been putting off designing them for the sake of more interesting things. I will wager you this. If Helyanwë is indeed frightened in any way when she meets you at my forge, I will begin the design of your gates and you will have them installed before the end of the yeni.
"If, however, I am right and she is unafraid, you will join me for dinner once a month for the next five years. Your Lady is welcome to join us, and Yvanna or others of our brothers and sisters may also decide to attend, but you at least must be there.
"You need to get away from your Halls more often, dearest brother. Although you spend time with Irmo and Nienna, the rest of us rarely see you any more.”
Námo had nodded then asked “Why would she not be afraid of me when all others seem to be?”
Aulë laughingly had said, “For the simple reason that she sees deeply, brother. And deep down, you are not to be feared; rather you are to be pitied.”
Námo had glanced sharply at his brother, but then he shrugged and agreed to visit the forge and test Aulë’s apprentice. Perhaps he would finally get his new gates, and at worst he would get several entertaining meals.
Three weeks later he appeared just outside the walls of Aulë’s forge complex in the far south of Aman. Striding through the archway into the courtyard, he saw his brother coming over to meet him, a broad smile of welcome on his face.
“Brother, welcome to my forges.”
Námo had been interested in this visit, in spite of himself. Although he was familiar with Aulë and Yavanna’s mansion in Valmar, he had never visited Aulë’s workshop and forge before. The complex was quite a bit larger than he had thought it would be. There were several large buildings surrounding a central courtyard, some larger housing for the workers situated behind the workshops, and he could also see the hint of small individual cottages even farther away towards the mountains.
“Let me show you through the workshops,” Aulë had said, and the two of them had proceeded to tour the various activity centers.
First they visited the metals forge. There, Aulë’s workers poured molten metal and forged it into a variety of shapes, discussed varieties of alloys and their properties, and tried to discover new alloys that would expand the tensile and malleability parameters of the currently available metals.
Although Námo wasn’t a metal smith, he, like all of the Valar, had knowledge of chemistry (organic and inorganic) and physics, and had a great appreciation for discovering new facets of knowledge. Although each elf was polite when Námo spoke to them, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty about the Doomsman’s presence running through each of them as well.
As they were leaving to go to the next building, Námo mentioned this to Aulë. “So far each person has reacted as I speculated. Each one, although polite, has been fearful about coming close to me.”
“Worry not,” his brother answered. Helyanwë will be the exception to your rule.
The next large building was dedicated to stone work. The large room was divided into smaller areas by translucent cloths strung up between the walls and from the ceiling beams. Sculptors of varying skill levels were carving and polishing stone into fantastic forms and commissioned works. Here, many years before, a young apprentice named Nerdanel had come to hone her skills. Upon achieving her Mastery, she had returned home, only to meet Fëanáro shortly thereafter and embrace a different destiny.
But again, to Námo’s disappointment, the elves were all hesitant to approach him closely and fearful of looking into his eyes. ‘Oh well, even if I cannot be welcomed as any other Vala would, I may get a new set of gates out of all of this.’ he thought to himself as he brushed at his dark tunic in a futile attempt to rid himself of stone dust.
They walked through some smaller studios, and finally approached the final large building. Chimneys indicated that fires were lit although it was warm outside, telling Námo that the media being used must require heat.
Walking in, Námo noticed three glass furnaces with a number of teams blowing shaped vessels and clear globes of glass that would be shaped into sheets for window coverings. Between each furnace was a door leading to smaller attached studios.
“Your Apprentice works with glass?” he asked Aulë.
“Yes, she loves the medium. Although she is at home at the furnace and the grinders, her love is for decorative glass, most specifically enamel. The far room on the right is for precision grinding for lenses, and for making shapes for measurements of fluids and other scientific usage. The enameling room is here, to the left.” Aulë led the way to the doorway.
There was a small, short passageway with a door to the exterior, allowing the glassworkers to enter and exit without walking through the larger furnace area. At the end of the passage another doorway opened into a large, well-lit room with workbenches on opposing walls. The far back wall had shelving featuring hundreds of containers of colored glass. Some of the glass was ground into fine powder, but most of it was in lump form. In the center of the room were two smaller fires and firebrick kilns for larger vessels and plates and each work bench was equipped with an alcohol blow-torch for spot-firing smaller pieces of enameled metal. There was a low murmur of conversation between a few of the elves on the right side that came to an uncomfortable halt when they noticed Námo among them.
“So, which one of these is your apprentice?” he asked Aulë, seeing that once again fear was palpable among the elves.
“None of them,” Aulë answered. "She is over there,” and he pointed to the far left corner of the room. There sat a young elf with long, platinum blonde hair pulled back into a single braid. She was wearing a device on top of her head that allowed her to augment her vision, and was painting a small disk in front of her with a fine paintbrush. Below her workbench was a small platform holding a pillow and a thrown-back blanket on top of a thin mattress.
“A bed under her workbench?” Námo asked, curiously.
“Fëanáro gave me warning. He told me that she sometimes gets so caught up in a design or project that she will forget to eat or sleep. At times like that he would usually bring food out to her, but he also built her a sleeping platform so that she wouldn’t fall asleep with her head on the workbench.”
“Helyanwë, child, you haven’t put away your bedding,” Aulë said as he walked towards her, gesturing Námo to accompany him.
“Oh, Lord Aulë, I’m so sorry. I awakened with the perfect idea and just had to start work on it immediately. Come and see. I have the …,” she suddenly stopped in mid-word. “Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
She placed her work carefully on its stand, putting a cover over it to protect the powdered glass from breezes or bumps, and removed her lenses from atop her head. Placing everything on her bench top, she turned and bowed deeply. “Forgive me my rudeness, Lord. I tend to get overly focused and intended no insult.”
Námo looked carefully at her, then at Aulë who nodded and motioned him forward. Approaching the young girl, he extended his arm, “Please, rise. I would be very interested in seeing what it is you are working on.”
The glassworker grasped his hand without hesitation and rose from her bow. Her gaze met his unflinchingly, assessing him while he weighed her. Then she turned to her bench.
“My Lords, I was working on a method to be able to show depth in the glasswork without requiring the multiple layers that I currently do in all parts of the design. I thought, overnight, that perhaps if I actually grind into the fused surface in selected parts, then layer glass in small layers with pinpoint heating and careful control of the overall heat; then I can put in more shading and it will begin to look almost as if it has three dimensions.
“I did this test yesterday.” She reached over to her shelving and pulled off a disk featuring yellow Elanor flowers on a black background. “Today I was trying to see how much glass I could compact into a space and the effects of spotted heating instead of full heating. I expect that today’s work will be shattered all over my bench by the time of the mingling.”
She offered Námo the prior day’s small test disk of flowers that she had designed. He carefully took the disk from her, turning it over and over in his hand. He found it beautiful and quite unique.
“This is lovely, child,” Námo said. “Do you accept commission work?”
“You would have to work out details with my Lord Aulë, since I am just an Apprentice in his workshop. But if he agrees, it would give me great pleasure to make something for you, Lord Námo.”
“I did not mention my name to you, yet you know me?”
“I am sorry if that discomforts you, sir. I only know you through the basic descriptions of your appearance. Yet I would have recognized you no matter what you looked like because sorrow and compassion shine from you. There is no-one else you could be.”
“I could be my brother, Irmo or sister, Nienna,” Námo offered. He was curious to find out more about her reasoning.
“No, Lord. Your brother Irmo I met once, when he came to visit my Great-Grandfather Finwë. He did not seem forthright in my eyes. It was as if his honesty was as clouded as the dreams he weaves in Lórien. I did not distrust him, but felt I could not fully trust him either.”
“And my sister, Nienna?”
“Both you and your sister are compassionate. Yet I feel strongly that for you compassion is the dominant feature, yet for her it is sorrow and by the acceptance of that, the cleansing of tears. However, I also feel that the two of you are very close.”
Námo’s eyes closed for a moment. Her assessment of him was hitting a bit closer than he had thought it would.
“Please forgive me, my Lord,” and she dropped to her knees. “I did not mean to cause you any distress.” Looking up at him, she continued, “I feel that although you offer compassion and love to all who pass through your Halls, that you rarely have it offered to you in return. Allow me offer it to you, Lord. Let me offer you the love and compassion that you deserve as much as any other Vala.”
She got back to her feet, slightly embarrassed by her outburst. “And now, on a lighter note before we all get too maudlin, could I offer you some tea on the porch? If you truly want to commission an item from me, we should probably discuss the particulars.”
“Yes … yes.” Námo said, allowing his thoughts to catch up with him again. “Some tea …. Some tea would be very nice.”
Giving a soft smile to him, she reached over to the vase of small yellow flowers that she had been using as her reference. Breaking a small stem away from the rest, she reached up to Námo’s hair, placing the flowers resting on his right ear, nestled in his black hair. Nodding, she turned and walked to the hob to fetch the tea kettle. As she was walking away she said, “Why don’t the two of you go along and get settled. I’ll bring the tea and my sketchbook and we can talk.”
Námo was bemused. As he settled himself on the large porch in a comfortable chair, he looked at his brother. “She has no fear, this one. I think I’ve lost a set of gates and gained a dinner date.”
“Yes, you have lost the bet, brother. But I think she will prove to be a good friend to both you and Vairë. I might have her design your gates at the same time as she does your commission. It would be good practice for her to work with the metal apprentices.
Námo got a distant look on his face. “Fear is something that she will learn to her sorrow, and gravely hurt will she be ‘ere she and I discuss fear again. Yet her compassion and love will save her.”
-0-0-0-0-0-
He and Aulë had spent a pleasant afternoon with the small glassworker, and several preliminary sketches were quickly drawn out for the hairpiece that his Lady was now wearing. She had also designed his new gates with tendrils of green, a riot of colorful flowers and vines, and the sun in eclipse on the center split panel of the wings.
Helyanwë developed a strong friendship with the Vala over the years. They would sometimes meet to walk and talk philosophy, and sometimes when the strains of his job were too much, he would appear in her studio and just sit in the corner watching her work. She would nod to acknowledge him, but never disturbed him unless he showed he wanted to talk. She was content to just let him sit there comfortably. She never knew how much that small escape meant to him.
When her fëa entered his Halls many years later, he remembered her with great affection and carefully watched over her as she slowly healed from the torments of her death and her deep sorrows. Many were the tears of compassion he shed over her while she healed.
A/N
The Sun in Eclipse sigil belongs to Fiondil and I am using it with his permission.
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no subject
Date: 2012-03-23 03:56 pm (UTC)It is a conflict of style and manner of working. Things have to marinate for me; before I can polish a story and declare it public usually. I've accepted that in practice, but find myself complaining when these mass writing events take place (self restraint is not one of my virtues). I think my problem is I read these submissions like I read anything else year 'round. I don't make allowances for the pressure under which they are written.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-23 04:53 pm (UTC)I research, but do sometimes get things mixed up. It's OK, I'm not writing for my thesis, my living, or my great-grandchildren, therefore, I can change things.
I actually am a fairly decent expert in Ancient Egypt and other esoteric fields of knowledge, even to the point of being able to read standard hieroglyphics, although not hieratic which is much more complex. I have aheavy education in history, and my father raised me with tales from history or from Greek Mythology instead of fairy tales. Fortunately my mother was a fairy tale fan, so I got those also.
Anyway, your abilities for excellent research are enviable, and that's why your biographies are so marvelous. I love Tolkien, I appreciate having canon oopsies pointed out to me, but I'm not going to spaz out when I make a mistake. I just am happy when someone is kind enough to point my oopsie out to me :-)
- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-23 05:17 pm (UTC)I'm not writing for my thesis, my living, or my great-grandchildren, therefore, I can change things.
I could stretch a little and say that I am doing all of those things.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-23 05:29 pm (UTC)*hugs*
- Erulisse (one L)