Ada - by Elwen of the Hidden Valley
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b2memB2MeM Prompt and Category:B2MeM Daily Prompt 16 MARCH 2018 - Fanwork Prompt:
Then he took up the harp which he bore ever with him, being skilled in playing upon its strings, and heedless of the peril of his clear voice alone in the waste he sang an elven-song of the North for the uplifting of hearts. And even as he sang the well at his feet began to boil with great increase of water, and it overflowed, and a rill ran noisily down the rocky hillside before him. And Tuor took this as a sign, and he arose at once and followed after it. (Unfinished Tales, “Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin”)
Format:vignette
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Elrond, Aragorn
Pairings:none
Summary:Elessar looks back
(Elrond and all the other characters belong to JRR Tokien. I'm only borrowing them for a moment to write this fanfic.)
ADA
Estel's foster father had two studies. The first was large, with many upright chairs, it's walls adorned with ancient banners, armour and the shield of the Herald of Gilgalad in one corner, and the seal of the house of Earendil, painted large, upon the wall behind a broad and imposing desk. Here, delegations were met and agreements signed, along with all manner of other formal business.
There was another study, but only those invited by Elrond saw this chamber. It, too, was large but contained a scatter of comfortably cushioned chairs. The walls were lined with book cases and hung with family portraits, and the desk was piled with open books and half finished transcriptions. One wall consisted only of floor to ceiling windows, leading out onto a terrace, which overlooked the Lady Celebrian's walled garden. A long chaise was placed before the windows, and the son of Earendil was often to be found sitting there in the evenings,watching the stars.
In winter a fire was lit in the large hearth, but in summer a beautiful ancient vase was filled with apricot roses, that scented the room with their clove perfume. Elrond said they were his lady's favourite rose. The Lady Celebrian's face smiled down from a small canvas above the mantle, painted by Elladan for his father, upon the first anniversary of her departure to the West. Estel had known that something very sad had happened to make her leave, but his foster father and brothers never spoke of it while the boy was still young.
When he was old enough to explore the vast house alone, Estel had discovered Elrond's private study. As soon as he spotted the child at the open door, Elrond smiled and beckoned him in. The youngster had been lifted into his Ada's lap. “Tell me of your day, Estel.”
There was one thing that made Adar's study very special. In a corner behind the desk, on a stand upon a small table, sat a beautiful lap harp. Its pale wood was carved with flowers that grew only in the West, their petals edged with silver, and Estel spent more than one agreeable winter afternoon listening to Elrond describe their habit and scent. The fine strings glistened like rain caught in a sunbeam.
Once, when a five year old Estel had been unfortunate enough to witness the death of a sparrow, Elrond had helped him bury the tiny corpse and then brought him back to this room. There, they had settled side by side upon the chaise and Elrond had taken the harp in his lap. Long and elegantly nimble fingers had plucked, and music floated upon the air like thistledown on a summer breeze, as Elrond's rich baritone wove its own magic. Nestling into his Adar's side, Estel had floated beyond the window and out over the valley, had swooped and dived with swifts, drifted upon the silent wings of a barn owl at dusk, circled high mountain peaks upon an eagle's back, sailed serene upon the lake with a swan and soared above a vast blue ocean on the broad wings of a grey gull.
From that moment, whenever Estel was troubled, he would make his way to Elrond's study. There, whether or not Ada was present, he would find peace.
Elessar looked about his own private study with some satisfaction. Arwen sat reading, in a chair beside the embers of the fire, their son cradled in the circle of one arm. Above her, on the wall, was a gift from her brother. Elladan could have chosen to paint his father in any setting, but he had settled upon a quiet scene within Elrond's private study. There, Adar sat in twilight, harp in hand and a soft smile upon his lips.
Estel hoped that one day his own son would remember him as fondly.
END
Then he took up the harp which he bore ever with him, being skilled in playing upon its strings, and heedless of the peril of his clear voice alone in the waste he sang an elven-song of the North for the uplifting of hearts. And even as he sang the well at his feet began to boil with great increase of water, and it overflowed, and a rill ran noisily down the rocky hillside before him. And Tuor took this as a sign, and he arose at once and followed after it. (Unfinished Tales, “Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin”)
Format:vignette
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Elrond, Aragorn
Pairings:none
Summary:Elessar looks back
(Elrond and all the other characters belong to JRR Tokien. I'm only borrowing them for a moment to write this fanfic.)
ADA
Estel's foster father had two studies. The first was large, with many upright chairs, it's walls adorned with ancient banners, armour and the shield of the Herald of Gilgalad in one corner, and the seal of the house of Earendil, painted large, upon the wall behind a broad and imposing desk. Here, delegations were met and agreements signed, along with all manner of other formal business.
There was another study, but only those invited by Elrond saw this chamber. It, too, was large but contained a scatter of comfortably cushioned chairs. The walls were lined with book cases and hung with family portraits, and the desk was piled with open books and half finished transcriptions. One wall consisted only of floor to ceiling windows, leading out onto a terrace, which overlooked the Lady Celebrian's walled garden. A long chaise was placed before the windows, and the son of Earendil was often to be found sitting there in the evenings,watching the stars.
In winter a fire was lit in the large hearth, but in summer a beautiful ancient vase was filled with apricot roses, that scented the room with their clove perfume. Elrond said they were his lady's favourite rose. The Lady Celebrian's face smiled down from a small canvas above the mantle, painted by Elladan for his father, upon the first anniversary of her departure to the West. Estel had known that something very sad had happened to make her leave, but his foster father and brothers never spoke of it while the boy was still young.
When he was old enough to explore the vast house alone, Estel had discovered Elrond's private study. As soon as he spotted the child at the open door, Elrond smiled and beckoned him in. The youngster had been lifted into his Ada's lap. “Tell me of your day, Estel.”
There was one thing that made Adar's study very special. In a corner behind the desk, on a stand upon a small table, sat a beautiful lap harp. Its pale wood was carved with flowers that grew only in the West, their petals edged with silver, and Estel spent more than one agreeable winter afternoon listening to Elrond describe their habit and scent. The fine strings glistened like rain caught in a sunbeam.
Once, when a five year old Estel had been unfortunate enough to witness the death of a sparrow, Elrond had helped him bury the tiny corpse and then brought him back to this room. There, they had settled side by side upon the chaise and Elrond had taken the harp in his lap. Long and elegantly nimble fingers had plucked, and music floated upon the air like thistledown on a summer breeze, as Elrond's rich baritone wove its own magic. Nestling into his Adar's side, Estel had floated beyond the window and out over the valley, had swooped and dived with swifts, drifted upon the silent wings of a barn owl at dusk, circled high mountain peaks upon an eagle's back, sailed serene upon the lake with a swan and soared above a vast blue ocean on the broad wings of a grey gull.
From that moment, whenever Estel was troubled, he would make his way to Elrond's study. There, whether or not Ada was present, he would find peace.
Elessar looked about his own private study with some satisfaction. Arwen sat reading, in a chair beside the embers of the fire, their son cradled in the circle of one arm. Above her, on the wall, was a gift from her brother. Elladan could have chosen to paint his father in any setting, but he had settled upon a quiet scene within Elrond's private study. There, Adar sat in twilight, harp in hand and a soft smile upon his lips.
Estel hoped that one day his own son would remember him as fondly.
END
no subject
Date: 2018-03-17 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-17 10:32 am (UTC)