Fingon_Findekáno
Loyal Best Friend
- Joined
- May 3, 2023
- Messages
- 3,052
It’s a clear night. The waves of Lake Mithrim lap gently upon its shores, their melody creating a song soothing to any who might listen. All is calm and peaceful, with only a few crickets chirping their rhythmic music.
Up on the grassy banks lays a figure on his back. With one leg outstretched and the other bent, and one arm positioned behind his head, he comfortably rests as his attention is fixated on the sky above him. His other hand mindlessly plays with the long blades of grass at his side. When the cool nightly breeze brushes past, it flows through grass and loose strands of hair alike. He is content to remain.
Footsteps, so quiet they blend in with the movement of the grass, approach him from behind, but he’s sure he hears them.
“Look at the stars,” he whispers thoughtfully without glancing in their direction, almost as if he’s half-saying it to himself, as if breaking the silence with his voice will shatter some fragility of this moment. His head tilts from one side to the other over and again as he tries to take it all in, his eyes alight with excitement.
The newcomer says nothing, but after a minute he continues.
“Look at all the stars,“ he says again, a little more emphatically with awe and wonder so clear in his voice as he sweeps his arm across the sky. “There are so many of them! We never saw this in Valinor, with the Light of the Two Trees always around. Telperion, even in all its soft, silvery light was too bright to allow the Jewels of Elbereth to glitter in the sky like this.” He almost laughs in joy as he is so taken with the beauty of the vast wonders above him. Thousands of stars litter the navy-black sky, twinkling and shimmering in all their gentle elegance, some clustering together while others shine alone. They appear in different sizes and brightnesses, some in different colors, but all of them stunning. Only faint wisps of clouds linger in the distance.
His eyes scan the dark expanse for something, and when he finds it he eagerly points in its direction. “If you look over there, at those seven bright stars shaped into a sickle, you can see the Valacirca.”
He searches again and points to a different part of the sky, using his finger to trace the outline. “And there, those five shaped like so with the three lined up in the middle? Those make up the constellation of Menelmacar. Haru once told me it used to be known as Telumehtar, the ‘Warrior of the Sky’. …I think that one is one of my favorites.” He pauses for a moment longer to admire it before drawing attention to yet another constellation.
“Over there, if you squint hard enough and tilt your head, you can kind of make out…” He follows his own advice, squinting his eyes and tilting his head at an awkward angle this way and that as it still lay on his arm. He gives the side of his face a light scratch trying to jog his memory, but it does not avail him. “You know, I’m not really sure, actually. It looks familiar, but I can’t quite make it out.” He chuckles, finding humor in how his knowledge of stargazing has come up short.
His companion still remains silent, but he feels them take a seat in the grass beside him.
He sighs. “I know we used to watch the stars together when we were still crossing the Ice, in all their cold, clear vigil, and they were beautiful then. But… there’s something different about them here. Here, in this land we dreamed about and looked forward to together, where we would… finally… feel the grass and… and…“
His words falter mid-sentence as he’s overcome with some unseen emotion. He blinks as the stars become blurry and swim before him, before finally squeezing his eyes shut. His chest tightens as his lips quiver a little. Silent tears run down his face the longer the moment lasts, as he tries to stifle a sob. He doesn’t wipe them away though, but lets the wet trails take their course as memories flood his mind.
Findekáno finally turns his head to glance at the silent companion he’s been talking to. Rather than finding another Elf sitting there, the space beside him is empty, the grass blowing freely in the breeze, which now has a touch of chill to it. The lonely silence leaves a pang of sadness in his heart. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he gazes back out at the stars. A tinge of sorrowful longing fills his voice when he whispers again.
“You would have loved this, Arno.”
Up on the grassy banks lays a figure on his back. With one leg outstretched and the other bent, and one arm positioned behind his head, he comfortably rests as his attention is fixated on the sky above him. His other hand mindlessly plays with the long blades of grass at his side. When the cool nightly breeze brushes past, it flows through grass and loose strands of hair alike. He is content to remain.
Footsteps, so quiet they blend in with the movement of the grass, approach him from behind, but he’s sure he hears them.
“Look at the stars,” he whispers thoughtfully without glancing in their direction, almost as if he’s half-saying it to himself, as if breaking the silence with his voice will shatter some fragility of this moment. His head tilts from one side to the other over and again as he tries to take it all in, his eyes alight with excitement.
The newcomer says nothing, but after a minute he continues.
“Look at all the stars,“ he says again, a little more emphatically with awe and wonder so clear in his voice as he sweeps his arm across the sky. “There are so many of them! We never saw this in Valinor, with the Light of the Two Trees always around. Telperion, even in all its soft, silvery light was too bright to allow the Jewels of Elbereth to glitter in the sky like this.” He almost laughs in joy as he is so taken with the beauty of the vast wonders above him. Thousands of stars litter the navy-black sky, twinkling and shimmering in all their gentle elegance, some clustering together while others shine alone. They appear in different sizes and brightnesses, some in different colors, but all of them stunning. Only faint wisps of clouds linger in the distance.
His eyes scan the dark expanse for something, and when he finds it he eagerly points in its direction. “If you look over there, at those seven bright stars shaped into a sickle, you can see the Valacirca.”
He searches again and points to a different part of the sky, using his finger to trace the outline. “And there, those five shaped like so with the three lined up in the middle? Those make up the constellation of Menelmacar. Haru once told me it used to be known as Telumehtar, the ‘Warrior of the Sky’. …I think that one is one of my favorites.” He pauses for a moment longer to admire it before drawing attention to yet another constellation.
“Over there, if you squint hard enough and tilt your head, you can kind of make out…” He follows his own advice, squinting his eyes and tilting his head at an awkward angle this way and that as it still lay on his arm. He gives the side of his face a light scratch trying to jog his memory, but it does not avail him. “You know, I’m not really sure, actually. It looks familiar, but I can’t quite make it out.” He chuckles, finding humor in how his knowledge of stargazing has come up short.
His companion still remains silent, but he feels them take a seat in the grass beside him.
He sighs. “I know we used to watch the stars together when we were still crossing the Ice, in all their cold, clear vigil, and they were beautiful then. But… there’s something different about them here. Here, in this land we dreamed about and looked forward to together, where we would… finally… feel the grass and… and…“
His words falter mid-sentence as he’s overcome with some unseen emotion. He blinks as the stars become blurry and swim before him, before finally squeezing his eyes shut. His chest tightens as his lips quiver a little. Silent tears run down his face the longer the moment lasts, as he tries to stifle a sob. He doesn’t wipe them away though, but lets the wet trails take their course as memories flood his mind.
Findekáno finally turns his head to glance at the silent companion he’s been talking to. Rather than finding another Elf sitting there, the space beside him is empty, the grass blowing freely in the breeze, which now has a touch of chill to it. The lonely silence leaves a pang of sadness in his heart. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he gazes back out at the stars. A tinge of sorrowful longing fills his voice when he whispers again.
“You would have loved this, Arno.”
