A Change in the Wind by amyfortuna

[elwinfortuna]

B2MeM Prompt and Category: "The wind began to blow steadily out of the West and pour the water of the distant seas on the dark heads of the hills in fine drenching rain."
Format: Short Story (~400 words)
Genre: Vignette
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maedhros
Pairings: N/A
Creator’s Notes (optional):
Summary: Maedhros dislikes the coming of Spring.

The air was still biting cold but the snow on the battlements was melting at last, melting fast, as if it were in a hurry to be off before the Spring came in earnest. Maedhros stood on the topmost tower, his eyes for once turned West rather than North, watching the dark heads of the hills of Dorthonion below. He could see, far in the distance, one or two small figures, dark against the snow, moving up the muddy paths on horseback, wary and careful. The pines swayed in the chill Northern wind. He could hear their soughing even so far above them.

Himring in Winter was warm and cosy, full of firelight and wool blankets. Elves attended to their preferred crafts, whether that was Fëanor's art in the smithy, Nerdanel's in the covered courtyard, or Míriel's, in the warmth of the vast hall. Maedhros himself enjoyed painting; it was a skill he was still relearning. He could while away many hours making portraits of his followers, who tended to be flattered to be asked to sit for him.

Yet with the onset of Spring, it was nearly time to put the paints and embroidery, the sculpture tools and the smithwork, all aside, for with Spring came battles, as Orcs returned to scuffling on the plains of Lothlann for scraps of territory, capturing horses, burning farms, or making raids into Dorthonion. Soon his soldiers would be protecting farmers, engaging in running battles with Orc bands, or hunting down some foul creature of Morgoth's making escaped from its lair, all through the Spring, Summer, and Autumn, until Winter should come again.

The wind changed even as he watched; the soughing of the pines took on a different note, and some snow slid from the tower, crashing into the ground far below. Steadily out of the West it came now, with an air of ancient memory, some sweetness almost forgotten, sending energy surging through him as he thought of distant seas on the edge of the earth, and remembered journeys in the Springtime of Valinor under the Trees, when Spring was something to look forward to, the start of another journey rather than another war.

With a sigh almost like the branches of pines in the wind, Maedhros turned to head down the curved stairs. The time for rest and craft was done again, and once more he would take up the blade.

Comments

[zdenka]

I like this. It's beautifully written.

[bunn]

Oh poor Maedhros. He sounds so tired. I'm glad he got to have some rest and relaxation and practice his art in the warm though.

[narya_flame]

Ooh, lovely. It made me think a little bit of The Waste Land - "April is the cruellest month". New life isn't always a sign of hope.

This part is beautiful:

Steadily out of the West it came now, with an air of ancient memory, some sweetness almost forgotten, sending energy surging through him as he thought of distant seas on the edge of the earth, and remembered journeys in the Springtime of Valinor under the Trees, when Spring was something to look forward to, the start of another journey rather than another war.

I'll be thinking of this haunting piece for a long time.

[alasse_mirimiel]

Loved this :)

[kayleearafinwiel]

Loved this story! Poor Maedhros, I think he needs a break from fighting!

[hhimring]

I like how you turn the idea of chilly Himring on its head almost: how it's cosiest when the weather is coldest--and the Noldor get to do what Noldor naturally do, which isn't really fighting, despite their rebellious spirit!
And I like how the mood changes as the wind shifts.

[dawn_felagund]

The contrast is poignant here between the spring in Himring and the remembered springs of Valinor. I love the worldbuilding too--I've always felt that Maedhros--really the Feanorians as a whole but especially Maedhros--get cheated by the narrator of the Silm. They took the burden upon themselves to protect the lands where the mountains between Beleriand and Angband fail, yet almost nothing is said of this. I really like the details you add here about what that life must have been like.

[independence1776]

Ooh! I love this reflecting on what spring means now to him.

[oloriel]

Like hhimring, I particularly loved how you turned the idea of harsh Himring winters and an assumed relief when spring finally came around on its head! I love the idea that the Noldor would snuggle up in warm blankets and do crafts and generally be at leisure. And of course, the forbidding nature of winter so far up north also means a certain measure of safety! I loved that you gave Maedhros some talent as a painter, and I really enjoyed your evocative description of the onset of spring.

[mybluerose]

Beautiful imagery! Like how Maedhros doesn't like spring when most people are pleased by the ending of winter. O The ever contrary Fearnorians!

[ex_mithrial116]

The change in note of the wind in the pines. A presage to Maedhros of burdensome spring.

A shivery moment. Different perspective.
Great read.