b2mem | Forging Gold, by Himring

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Title: Forging Gold
Author Name: Himring
Prompt: (B2MeM 2014: Winter) Use the following song to inspire your writing or artwork: "Crystal Forest" by Nox Arcana
Summary: Maglor and three of his brothers on a day towards the end of the Fell Winter (First Age).
Rating: General
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: The title alludes to the alleged meaning of Maglor’s mother name (Quenya Makalaure). Maglor’s father name Kanafinwe is also mentioned, as is the shortened form Kano.

Nargothrond had fallen, never to rise again, and no change of the world’s weather would bring back last year’s dead but, in the east, in the valley of Gelion, the grip of fell winter that seemed to hold Beleriand in its claws as tightly as a dragon’s at long last began to ease a little. The long-impenetrable cover of greyish cloud broke and there came brief days of pale sunshine and, at length, if only at the height of noon, thaw. The eaves of the forest that had been covered deep in snow began to drip, but halfway through the afternoon the temperature dropped sharply again and all the moisture froze so that ice coated the branches and, in some places, whole series of icicles formed and grew as each tentative thaw was again overtaken by frost.
And then, one day, the Feanorians emerged from the shadows of the trees and found that the sunlight had intensified. Ice and snow and cold water all gleamed in a brilliant white light. The reflections along the river bank were almost blinding.
Maglor blinked and blinked again. Gazing at a sparkling drop of water that had formed on the end of a twig a couple of inches from his nose and seemed about to detach itself and fall, he said quietly to himself: ‘It’s almost like Valinor.’
‘What is?’ asked Amras, puzzled.
Maglor was a little taken aback. He had not realized he had spoken aloud. Recovering himself, he said: ‘All that gleam and sparkle—that is what I mean. But do you suppose that is really how it was? Crystal forests, towers of ivory, beaches covered with pearls and diamonds? Or is that just how we remember it?’
‘I don’t know’, said Amras uncomfortably. ‘But that’s how I remember it, too.’
‘Who cares?!’ said Amrod violently, beside him, and they both jumped. ‘Who cares about Valinor and what it was like? What does Valinor care about us?!’
Maglor lowered his head, ashamed. He should not have mentioned Valinor, especially now, under these circumstances. His brothers were half-starved, their fingers frost-bitten. By Valinorean standards, they were almost in rags. And the scene before them might be beautiful, but it was a cold cruel beauty—as unlike the comforts of Tirion as could be—and would feed no hungry bellies. Maybe today’s sunshine was a harbinger of spring, but spring was clearly still some way off and there was no little hardship to be expected before it finally arrived.
‘Who cares about Valinor, indeed’, said Maedhros, from behind his shoulder. ‘Look again! Look at the sunshine and the gleam and the sparkle, Kanafinwe Makalaure! We will need you to remember them for us tonight, when it grows dark, tonight and on other nights—for it is you who forge all our gold now, you are the one remaining jewel-smith among the Sons of Feanor and all the precious metal we still own is your song. Look closely, Kano! For, see, already the sun is going in…’
As he spoke, a thin veil of cloud was drifting across the face of the sun.

***

Wandering in the foothills of the Ered Luin towards the end of yet another fell winter, in another age, Maglor saw the clouds tear open above Mount Rerir and the sun gleam on its snow-covered slopes, although nothing, nothing now remained of the beauties of the land of Thargelion that had once lain at its foot.
‘I’m looking, Nelyo’, he muttered, hoarsely. ‘I’m looking! But…’

A/N:
At the foot of Mount Rerir, in the area called Thargelion, after the River Gelion, lay the most beautiful place within the territory of the Sons of Feanor, Lake Helevorn. It was destroyed in the war and later most of the rest of Beleriand as well, but there is some speculation that Mount Rerir itself survived into the Third Age, although reduced in size.
There are two "Fell Winters" in Tolkien's chronologies: in the First Age: 495/496, after the dragon Glaurung destroyed Nargothrond, and in the Third Age: 2911/12, when the Shire was attacked by white wolves.
Beside "Forging Gold", there is an alternative but similar gloss to the Quenya name Makalaure: “Gold-cleaver”.

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Heartbreaking, and beautiful.

From:

Forging Gold, by Himring

B2MeM 2020

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