# Noldolante



## Confusticated (Dec 23, 2009)

_Noldolante_​...the Fall the Noldor​

Maicanaro is walking across the square, and notices a crowd gathered beneath the Mindon Eldalieva. A council is to be held today in the house of Finwe, but some stand here reluctant to enter. They speak outside the archway in hushed voices, gossip of which Maicanaro hears only fragments. 

_Shouting was heard from within? Feanaro was seen entering armed as if for battle?_ He mulls over what he has learned, shaking his head as he mumbles to himself a disinterest in the politics of Tirion. He nonetheless finds himself straining to hear more. 

The sons of Nolofinwe presently approach. Maikanaro stops dead to listen, feigning to admire silver Galathilion dazzling in the mixed light of Laurelin and Telperion. Heavy footsteps are heard now from within, and they approach the entrance where the lords stand listening. Suddenly silence befalls the growing throng. 

Feanaro is heard at the archway, bellowing: "See, half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue. Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls."


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## Astrance (Dec 23, 2009)

What is Fëanàro up to, wondered Morfindessë, while getting closer to Maicanàro, a long-time friend of hers. She had heard rumors ; people in Tirion said that the Valar were plotting something. Rumors, spread in secrecy, and unrest, too. For the first time since their journey to the Blessed Realm, the Noldor knew anxiety.

Morfindessë watched the now silent Fëanàro storm his way through the bewildered crowd ; she caught a glimpse of his piercing grey eyes, and shuddered. What did he know, to be so fierce ? Why did such an anger burn behind his eyes ? Mighty was he, full of cunning and unequaled knowledge — what news could have brought forth this rage ?

Beside Morfindessë, Maicanàro stirred, moving towards where Fëanàro had now disappeared. To stop him, Morfindessë put her hand on his shoulder and said softly :
- If you wish to know what happened here, don't follow Fëanàro now, not yet. Let's go inside and ask someone of our friends.


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## Confusticated (Dec 27, 2009)

"Let us go." he agrees. "Feanaro may well have hewn me down. Or anyone who gets in his way." Maikanaro is a friend of Curufinwe, Feanaro's fifth son. The two work together as jewel-smiths, and Maikanaro knows well the temper of this father and son. The brandishing of swords in Tirion, however, is a grave situation indeed.

Eager to learn more Maicanaro and Morfindesse squeeze through the chattering crowd and in through the archway. There stands Finwe, High King of the Noldor, his proud face now aggrieved. A few princes and lords are seated, and a hush falls over the hall as Finwe addresses the Noldor.

"There are matters of great importance at hand. In this time I ask that all remain united, and reserve judgement until all is revealed in due time. It is vital to peace in Tirion that no one act in haste.

Now there are matters for me to discuss with my sons. I bid you all go forth and spread what you have just heard. You will likely be summoned to Valmar ere long. Farewell."


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## Astrance (Dec 28, 2009)

Morfindessë and Maicanaro soon left the house of Finwë and parted ways for the time being.

Feeling oppressed, Morfindessë saddled her horse and rode through the Calacirya to the dark shores of the Great Sea, where the stars of Elbereth where the only light. Long she stood before the waves, crowned with pale spray, always watching East — born in Aman, she knew not Middle Earth save in tales and songs, but she know yearned for it, as for freedom. At last, she pushed her horse forward in the sea, and cried :
- Oh, to walk free under the stars, over rock and under tree ! Oh, why, oh, why is the way back closed to us ?

It was a long time before she went back ashore, shivering with cold, and headed back to Tirion upon Tùna.


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## Confusticated (Dec 28, 2009)

After leaving the summit of Tirion, Maikanaro returns home to sit in quiet thought for many hours. He ponders the direction of his people, and the effects of it on his family. The longer he thinks, the more aggitated he becomes. He stands now, and paces the garden while muttering.

"This is it! I am finishing it today." He walks down to the base of Tuna where lies the forges. He enters the second smithy and hails Minyakano. 

"That was quite a scene with Feanaro today. From what I hear, Nolofinwe is jealous of him and seaks to turn Finwe against him."

"I wish to see Curufinwe. Is he within?" asks Maicanaro impatiently.

Minyakano nods and Maicanaro walks around the back wall. There a hidden passage winds up. Maicanaro hurries along the path, a dim form striding with a purpose through the silver-lit tunnel. The caves are a few of many places kept in secret by the Noldor.

As he enters a far chamber, he is greeted by Curufinwe. 

"What brings you here at this time?" the prince asks, grinning.

Maicanaro pulls a hilt from his pocket, and grins in turn, a sparkle lights in his grey eyes. For he is proud of this masterwork. "Verily, you have guessed it my friend. Where now is that blade of your son's?"

"Telperinquar will be up soon. Now hand that to me."


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## Astrance (Dec 28, 2009)

It was the second mingling of the lights when Morfindessë passed the white stone arch that marked the threshold of an elegant house a little way from Tirion. She entered the house as one familiar with it and hailed a tall Elf who happened to be crossing the first hall :
- Greetings to you, Elestirnë ! I hope you are well. May I see the lady Nerdanel ? I have this pendant I promised her.
- Greetings, lady Morfindessë, answered the steward of the house, grinning. The lady refuses to speak to anyone today, but I think she would be glad of your visit. Pray come with me ; she is in the water garden.

Nerdanel the Wise, wife of Fëanàro, was seated on a stone bench under a great willow-tree, a sad look on her beautiful face. Elestirnë bent and said :
- The lady Morfindessë is here and wishes to see you, my lady. May she come ?
- She can, was the answer.
- But may she not ? I think she is quite anxious to have your counsel.
- Then she may, said Nerdanel after a time.

Morfindessë walked cautiously towards Nerdanel, crossing a lily pond on a narrow path of white stones ; she picked a small reed as she passed a green islet, and fastened it to her mantle.
- How are you, my friend ? asked Nerdanel, rising.
- Thank you for asking ; I'm reasonably well, answered Morfindessë. What about you ?
- Thank you ; please be seated. What brings you to this place, Morfindessë ?
- I finished the pendant I promised you some time ago. It is of no great value, but I hope it will please you, said Morfindessë while seating.
She pulled a small box from her mantle and opened it. As Nerdanel leaned to have a close look, Morfindessë could examine her face. In the soft twilight of Valinore, it appeared tired with worries under Nerdanel's russet hair. It hadn't been so since she had at last estranged herself from Fëanàro.
They talked of the pendant for a time, then silence fell between them, and Nerdanel asked :
- Now tell me the real reason of your visit.
- Did you hear what happened in Tirion earlier today ? asked Morfindessë back.
- Yes, I have. Bad tidings indeed, Morfindessë. But why would you come and ask me of my husband's thoughts ? You know well he doesn't confide in me anymore.
- Yet you know him better than any.

Nerdanel didn't answer ; her fingers stroked a bird carved on the bench in the likeness of a swan, but she said nothing. At last, she sighed and asked :
- What do you wish to know, Morfindessë ?
- Why does Fëanàro think the sons of Indis wish to usurp his place ? Isn't he the elder, born of Finwë's first wife ?
- Alas, I have no answer to this, said Nerdanel. He may have heard rumors, but he is too strong-willed to give any heed to jabber. But some of his house, yea, my own sons, aren't of such a mind, and he would trust them.
- What would he do ? People everywhere speak of freedom and of leaving Aman for wider lands. Could he ?...
- Leave ? Yes, he could. But he wouldn't depart in the shadows, alone — he would need to prove himself the strongest, as he is, and the leader, as he could be. There is a darkness over him now that wasn't there before ; it scares me and saddens me when I think of it. Let's leave this subject for now, Morfindessë, for it is an unpleasant one, and guesswork never did good.

Morfindessë stayed a little more ; they spoke of lighter matters, such as the feast to come, and then Morfindessë took her leave, her mind set afire by Nerdanel's guesses.


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## Confusticated (Dec 29, 2009)

Curufinwe examines Maicanaro's handy work, then takes a sword from a long cabinet. The two converse as Curufinwe sets to work attaching the gem adorned hilt to the blade he will present to his son.

Curufinwe says "My son will not be able to refuse this, whether or not he deems it necessary yet. And have you brought the stones for his belt and helm?" 

"Of course I have. Have you my armour?" 

Curufinwe chuckles, "You know I do, Maicanaro. Your sword as well. You know, Telperinquar was admiring the stonework you left here for the hilt."

The two laugh merrily. "Then he will have to love the one I made for him, it is my finest work to date. Indeed I would have kept it for my own had it not bore the emblem of your house." Maicanaro jests, for his spirits were lifted in the company of his friend, and he hasn't the inclination to darken the mood with serious talk. This goes unspoken between them for now.


At length the sword of Telperinquar is completed, and Curufinwe brings out the sword he has forged for Maicanaro in recompense. With it he brings full armour, which Maicanaro promptly arrays in. They are adorn with emblems he fashioned, blazing red and gold like fire. Indeed the wearing of this metal armour sets a fire within his bosom. 

Strong, he fills, and strangely united with his fellow Noldor in arms. New thoughts come with the feeling. _Let the Valar or any others who dwell in Arda attempt to constrain us! _


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## Astrance (Dec 29, 2009)

Leave Aman ?
It was the first time Morfindessë considered the matter seriously. Until then, it had been but a day-dream. Nerdanel seemed to think Fëanàro might lead some of the Noldor there — but wouldn't he need Finwë's approval for this ? Hot-headed as he was, he loved and respected his father too much to act rashly towards him. Would this be these serious matters the High King had to discuss with his sons ? And yet Finwë had called the Noldor to unite. What could it mean ?

However, the forging of weapons was a grave matter ; Morfindessë remembered the whisperings that had brought it. The Valar might force them as slaves, they might use force against them, but to what purpose ? She didn't think the smiths knew more than her ; Mëagnor would have told here, and what she knew had been enough for her to ask for a dagger to be made for her. It now hung at her waist, hidden under a large belt, close at hand, and she suddenly thought it was nothing but a child's plaything. If need for weapons arose, her fiery temper would need more than a short blade to be contented.

Whatever track her mind followed, it always brought her back to the smiths. Powerful pupils of Aulë, they stood over any other craftsmen among the Noldor. Architects could build fair cities of white stones, artists could paint or carve the living likeness of the world, bards might sing better than the evening birds, but the smiths were the most honored of all. And it so happened that Mordhol's feet brought her to the forges. As a mere jeweler, she only dwelt in the upper chambers, but she knew there were deep places where wonders were wrought. The sons of Fëanàro were sure to be there ; it was more their home than their father's house.

Morfindessë wondered if she should head back to her house, but embers had been stirred in her spirit, and she couldn't bring herself to stay calmly in a place. Her meeting with Nerdanel had been like salt on an open wound and her mind was alive with mingled hopes and fears.


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## arkenstone (Dec 30, 2009)

And yet Feanor heard these soul whisperings, listening the to the very air with an attentive mind and a lore filled memory. The harbingers he had seen in the starry sky he kept to himself, as he did not wish to have others think he had plotted what was to come. 

Feanor turned and raised a mighty hammer, and drove the final setting stroke into the tiny object clamped on the work table. In this, his mountain eyrie, he could work without passersby muttering about constant bellows smoke and his dark crafts. 

Feanor held the metallic ring up to the dim light of the workshop, the gem sparkling blue, the silvery metal surrounding it leaving not a breath of air to contain it. The days were coming when he would look back on this golden day of Spring Harvest time as a dream and the harsh air of the new land would fill his throat with excitement, dread, and purpose.

A shadow fell over the light from the windows, and Feanor clasped the object between his sleeves as he pulled them slowly to his wrists. As the footsteps of Nerdanel came over the drawbridge, he fitted a tiny chisel to pink crystal he had been carving on an off for some time. Her eyes lighted sharply on the table where his hands worked, and she relaxed a fraction.

She held the driving gloves he used in the evening chill, and he closed the workbench on the crystal and left with her, marveling at the clear air and tang of the sea in the air. She did not notice the slight space between his torc and forelock, the shadow discreetly covering a space where the gem adhered magnetically in its case to the inner crown.

Feanor looked about him like a fledgeling Prince taking farewell of a parent kingdom.


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## Confusticated (Jan 2, 2010)

Telperinquar enters to the site of his father and Maicanaro strutting about the workshop, swords brandished.

"If I have interrupted you father, then I sincerely beg your pardon." Curufinwe starts at the voice, then turns to face his son. He says, "Hello dear boy. Tell me now, what think you of this?" With that he spins the sword into the air and catches it by the tip. He presents it hilt-first to Telperinquar.

Telperinquar looks at the hilt, and glances at Maicanaro as he takes the sword in his left hand, fighting back a desire to tell his father that he nearly sliced his fingers off with that stunt. He admires it, saying "excellent gem work Maicanaro, and I see you used one of the silver hilts that father asked for me to make. The blade is fine, seemingly one of fathers best." He looks at them each in turn, and they await the rest of his verdict. For though it is his sword and he is the son of Curufinwe, Telperinquar is fast becoming a smith of note among the Noldor and Teleri. Therefore his criticism is held by them in high esteem. 

When, at last he speaks again, he looks keenly to them and says "I hope you two stay out of trouble with these. " 

Maicanaro chuckles and Telperinquar grins. Curufinwe says,"Trouble? Why that is just exactly what we will not 'stay out of' with these! If trouble should ever arise, we shall have great need of swords. That is why my son must also be armed -with more than bracelet and ring- though for now it may be mounted as decoration. My son, this sword belongs to you; a gift from your father."


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## Astrance (Jan 3, 2010)

As Morfindessë had decided she would prepare to leave for Valmar, so as to avoid the crowd when Finwë would summon his people, she heard her name called. Turning back, she saw her friend Irissë dismounting her horse, clearly just arriving from some long journey, judging from the dust on her riding gear :
- Morfindessë ! How are you ?
- Fine, fine. I believed you to be hunting in Araman ?
- I was, until last week ; I was on the way back when I heard the news and it made me rush home. What happened ? Did Fëanàro really draw his sword at his brother ? I couldn't believe it when I heard it !
- He truly did, answered Morfindessë. Finwë is to summon us to Valmar soon. Did you hear the rumors too ?
- About the Valar trying to enthrall us ? Oh yes I did, Morfindessë ! Riding in the wild doesn't mean being cut from the news.
- So come with me ; I wanted so badly to discuss this with you that I nearly rode to Araman to find you.
- And I to Tirion to hear your opinion, answered Irissë, grinning. But before we discuss anything together, let's hear what the great smiths have to say. Come, let's go to their hiding place, they have to be there.
Morfindessë was delighted, because that was exactly what she wanted to do, but she said :
- I don't know them as well as you do. They might speak more freely if you were alone.
- Never mind ! They're talkative and, beside, aren't you good friend with Maicanaro ? Let's go.


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## Confusticated (Jan 4, 2010)

The youngest sons of Feanaro, Ambarussa and Ambarto, come tearing across the Calacirya on their galloping steeds. The heavy beating of hooves kicks up a trail of dust in their wake, and red hair dances in the wind like flames. Their quivers are empty, they return from the hunt. Ambarto looks towards Tirion, and sees his cousin Irisse shining white in the shadowy light. 

"Who is that with Irisse?" Ambarussa asks, as he straightens up his posture.

Back in the forges Telperinquar voices his gratitude to his father. "I will take your suggestion and mount it in my shop. It truly is magnificent, even if--someone is coming, nay two." 

Maitimo enters. Tall and slender he stands high and proud. He carries a sword at his right, and is highly skilled in the use use of it. Next to him stands Carnistir, less fair than Maitimo, but fierce of face. He looks much like the dark headed and grey eyed Curufinwe;different only in that he apears to brood while Curufinwe tends to wear a mischievous smile; Curufinwe also being quicker to laughter. Curufinwe is most close to Carnistir of all the brothers, so they are seen together often along with Tyelkormo. 

"Curufinwe, we are concerned that father will do something hasty." says Maitimo.

"Hasty?" asks Carnistir, "What father did was a long time coming, and our half-uncle should count himself blessed that father used restraint. I know not why! We could--"

"He did so for the sake of Grandfather!" Curufinwe shouts over him.


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## Astrance (Jan 4, 2010)

- The sake of... What is this new idea ? asked coldly Maitimo. How could it have pleased our Grandfather ? The whole thing was outrageous. Father will be lucky if...

- Nolofinwë had it coming ! bellowed Carnistir, beside himself with rage. You can't stole a king's son's place without _someone_ doing _something_ about it !

- Yet we can only consider it lucky Father restrained himself ! shouted then Maitimo, loosing his temper too.

- This is exactly my point ! shouted Curufinwë. Will you _listen_ for once ?!

- Why ?! ejaculated Carnistir. That would have been a small matter in regards of what this damn Vanya is up too !

- Don't be stupid, brother ! Our House may be the eldest, but if you are a prince of the Noldor, he is the High King's son !

- Father did what Finwë should have done long ago, cried Curufinwë over his brothers' voices, and Grandfather is lucky to have such a son to hold his House's rank !

- Please, lower your voices, brothers ; we could hear you all the way from the Square.

The brothers were startled ; turning, they saw the red-haired twins passing the door. Ambarto continued :
- Besides, we bring guests.

An uncomfortable silence followed, during which several pairs of grey eyes focused on Irissë and her friend. Morfindessë gave back look for look.
Maitimo and Carnistir were close to each other, bent forward as if jousting ; Curufinwë, erect behind them, bore a furious pride on his face. Telperinquar had his back on the wall ; he was holding a silver hilt, trying to look unconcerned. Maicanaro was beside him.

- Oh, is that you, Irissë ? said at last Telperinquar.
- Back from Araman, then, added Curufinwë, composing himself. I believe I know your friend ?
- My name is Morfindessë, answered the black-haired one, introducing herself. We have indeed met some times at Fëanàro's house.
- Ah, yes, said Curufinwë ; I remember you. You have a good hand with silver.
- Thank you.

Another silence fell, which Irissë broke :
- So, what is all this about ? Swords drawn by brother against brother are hardly an innocent matter. Seeing our Houses at war with each other would pain me. Tell me how this _damn Vanya_ offended your precious smith of a father, or lose my company.


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## Confusticated (Jan 5, 2010)

"Other than being a Vanya?"

"Carnistir! You will not speak that way in my shop, or to our cousin the White Lady of the Noldor! Who you know as well as I will not sit idle and take it." Curufinwe steps in front of Carnistir and tells him "If you do not rethink what you have said and ask her forgiveness I will ask you to leave." 

Carnistir's fists are clenched, his chest rises and falls as he breaths heavy through clenched teeth and red face. He says nothing, but storms from the room.

"Irisse, I apologise for my brother's behaviour. The recent events have shaken our household as you know." 

"Maitimo, that does not excuse his hatred of my father, who loves his nephews and all his kin. Neither does it excuse his slander of my Grandmother's folk as a race!" 

Ambarussa says "I am sure he will calm down soon, and come to his right mind."

Maicanaro remains silent, and wonders if Carrnistir will brood alone or vent at Tyelkormo.


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## Astrance (Jan 5, 2010)

Curunfinwë's voice drew Maicanaro from his thoughts :
- Please, Maicanaro, accept my apologize. I am truly sorry you had to witness such a scene. Morfindessë, I am ashamed we were to renew our acquaintance in such circumstances ; pray don't judge to hastily.

- Be reassured, then, answered Morfindessë, for I never judge, being myself prone to errors and swift words.

- Don't waste your politeness, Morfindessë, said Irissë ; these louts do not deserve it. Curufinwë, Maitimo, for the last time, tell me why Fëanàro threatened my father.

The brothers looked at each other, and Maitimo said :
- He believes Nolofinwë wishes to usurp his place in their father's heart and mind.

- So then ? Is he the most respected of our people, or a toddler, to cry thus for attention ?

These harsh words sank in silence in the brothers' hearts before Ambarussa said slowly :
- He also thinks Nolofinwë, your father, seeks to rule Tirion both in our grandfather's and his place.

- Then no toddler he is, said disdainfully Irissë, but a madman, for my kin never sought such a place, and never this way would Finwë act.


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## Confusticated (Jan 6, 2010)

"Our father is not a toddler!" Maitimo declares, "Could a toddler have made silmarilli?."

"Nay" anwers Curufinwe, "If my father is this certain then it must be founded on something. Irisse, for the sake of our friendship you had better not say these things. Your uncle is and ever will be the greatest of all the Eldar."

Footsteps approach, and Maicanaro tenses up, fearing he knows not what. But it is Tyelkormo looking puzzled.

"I did not know that you were hosting a party today, Curufinwe." he says snidely, looking in turn at each person in the room. Maicanaro relaxes. Tyelkormo continues,"Carnistir shoved past me in the tunnel just outside here. Can anybody tell me why?"

Ambarussa says, "Fine, but lets discuss it over a meal."


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## Astrance (Jan 6, 2010)

The brothers and their guests soon left the workshops and headed towards the house of Fëanor, that stood high in Tirion ; a star shone upon the door.


As Morfindessë found herself walking with Irissë, she glanced at her friend and said softly :
- You should have kept these words to yourself. Speaking thus was useless and wrong ; you pained your friends more than you wished, and those who could have benefited from hard words were either already gone, or not arrived yet.

- I lack your patience, answered Irissë, and what we overheard angered me more than the news themselves. Dear friends as they might be to me, they shall learn not to disrespect my kin.

- Then you are indeed of a same blood, if anger blinds your wisdom.


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## Confusticated (Jan 7, 2010)

As Maicanaro and his friend enter the house with five of the sons of Feanaro and Irisse, his pride at being seen in such numerous and high company gives way to hunger.

The scents of roast meats and wine are heavy in the air. Maitimo seats the guests, and the sons of Feanaro depart to wash up for dinner. Telperinquar remains. Then a servant brings wine and hors d'oeuvres to Morfindesse, Irisse and Maicanaro at Telperinquar's bidding. The four of them are seated around a tall circular table. A vase of white flowers sits it the center, putting off a gentle light.

Maikanaro admires the craftmanship that went in to the crystal bouquet. Everything in this house is of the finest craftmanship in Tirion, and that is saying much. He sighs and drains his glass. Total relaxation befalls the room, and through an open window the twilight air is fragrant with the scent of many flowers. He pours another glass, and looks at his companions across the table. 

"This one I will savour." He sips.


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## Astrance (Jan 7, 2010)

This I would miss, thought Morfindessë while sipping the soft white wine, if I were to depart to Middle Earth. All this beauty, wrought by our own hands... And yet, could it be that these very fruits of our making would be what keeps us prisoners, more than any will of the Valar ?

- What a thoughtful mood, Morfindessë, remarked Telperinquar.

- I beg your pardon, answered she. One shouldn't let dark thoughts through one's mind in such a company.

They were offered scallops from the shores of the Great Sea, with white bread from the fields of Yavanna, and savored another glass of wine before their hosts were back. They then left the room for another one, where a terrace opened on darkening Tirion. A warm breeze moved the sheer blue curtains ; bright torches enlightened the outside, whereas high candles illuminated the table.

Maitimo sat at the high seat, and Irissë, White Lady of the Noldor, was on his right. On his left, Tyelkormo took place, Maicanaro by his side, and Curufinwë was beside Irissë, Morfindessë on his right hand. Ambarussa was on her right ; his twin was near Maicanaro, and had Telperinquar as neighbour.
Of light matters they spoke at the beginning, but as time grew on, the conversation took a friendlier turn. Telperinquar was soon debating with Maicanaro of the best way to set gems on a hilt, and Morfindessë found herself enjoying Curufinwë's gift for subtle arguments.


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## Confusticated (Jan 8, 2010)

'If you are certain Telprinquar, then why not remove the jewels from your sword and reset them?" 

Curufinwe says "Perhaps he will later when you are no around." The dispute ends in laughter.

"Maitimo, will Makaluare be joining us?" asks Irisse.

"I've sent a messenger in search of him and Carnistir." Maitimo says, and after a sip he asks her "Irisse, how is Findekano? I regretfully do not see as much of him as I once did." 

"He and Turukano have been kept busy by father." Irisse does not say that they are making swords and spears.

"I may have to visit him soon. " Maitimo is thoughtful for a time. He and Findekano had been close friends, but tension was now between the sons of Feanaro and Nolofinwe. Moreover, some of the princes do not want to displease their fathers or appear disloyal. 

Melkor had done grievous hurt to the Noldor, and he had only to plant distrust to do it. Gone are the days of Tirion's noon, though the city is at he pinnacle of its splendour. Hearts are darkend and minds are suspicious so that friends keep distant lest their motives be questioned.


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## Turgon (Jan 10, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

There is no other sight like this in all of creation; standing here on the prow of my ship as the wind whips the sails overhead and the Swan Haven comes into view, gleaming white beneath an ocean of stars. My ship, Brightgleam, glides softly to the quayside where my family are gathered, waiting to toast me home. I have been away sometime now. Like most Noldor I have a passion for learning, for exploring that which is not yet known; and so I have travelled the coast from north to south, past shores which even my father's kindred have not yet given names, and mountains which in my mind I name for those I love. The proud peak I anchored beneath in Avathar I named for my Noldo father, and the tall, slender mountain clothed in winter's white that took my breath in Oiomúrë, I named for my Telerin mother. For as my friends in Tirion are want to tease, the soft heart of a Teleri beats within my chest. Something my mother always bade me be proud of.

As my ship nears my family's mooring, I begin to make out those faces so dear to me, and so long from my sight. And something within my heart forebodes me. For these faces, so often filled with bright laughter or warm tears upon my return, seem fearful, uncertain. Yet how could such feelings take hold? Here in our haven-home? My crewmen sense it too, and as we pull alongside my family, the steersman tugs too sharply on the rudder, causing Brightgleam to lurch into the stonework of the quay, and in the violence of the colision I hear a soft, crystal ringing. Slowly, slowly, like a minstrel's foot tapping out time. Turning to look my heart skips a beat, as I see one of Brightgleam's gemstone eyes bouncing across across the pier and into the cold waters of the Belegaer. My first thought is of my friend in Tirion who crafted these jewels for me, and the words he spoke as he set them into the swanhead on my prow. 

_'The eyes of the Noldor will ever see truly, friend Dagorlin, they cannot be deceived, and when the storm breaks upon you, they will guide you home._


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## Astrance (Jan 10, 2010)

The guests at Fëanáro's house had gone through most of the dinner when Curufinwë asked softly Morfindessë :
- So, why did you come with Irissë at the forges ? Do not misunderstand me ; you are good company, and I am glad you're here tonight, but I wonder.

- Mere curiosity, answered Morfindessë. As many, I had witnessed the scene in Tirion today but I thought there might be something more to it than a simple brotherly strife.

- So this is how you would describe it ? A simple brotherly strife... This seems so tame.

- And yet, when the brothers are so mighty, it isn't.

Curufinwë laughed and said :
- Nice answer ; I should have known you wouldn't fall on this.

- I know this is a subject that shouldn't be spoken of in company, pursued Morfindessë, but why, in the first place, did you — and others, too — begin to forge swords and shields ?

- Don't you like to have a shield to wear you badge when you ride afar ?

- A shield is first a protection, and then a badge-bearer. Why would we need protecting ? Aren't we at peace here in Aman, where no war was ever waged ?

- Peace may not last, if we are to break our bonds. 

As Morfindessë heard these words, her heart grew cold, and she shivered as she turned her head around, looking for the crystal that had just rung.

- Don't pretend to be shocked, said Curufinwë as he misunderstood her reaction. Irissë told me of your yearn for freedom.

- Didn't you hear the sound of a gem falling ? asked Morfindessë. It stroke my ears, and a shadow passed on me.

- No.

Morfindessë tried to hear more, but nothing save the sound of a merry dinner came to her. As Ambarussa bent to speak to her, the sound of hooves was heard outside, and the conversation died. All the guests listened to the steps that echoed through the house and turned to the door a moment before it opened, for they knew this pace, swift and strong.
The master of the house walked among the guests ; the candlelight flickered on his face, catching his piercing eyes and powerful jaw. A hard smile marked his face as he beheld the company, which rose to greet him, Fëanáro son of Finwë, whose brow bore a single white gem on a silver band.


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## Ithrynluin (Jan 10, 2010)

The cloaked figure stood at the back of the hall leaning against one of the great pillars carved of ebony, almost becoming one with it. He watched elves going back and forth as the discussion steadily became heated, eventually turning into a veritable clamour of voices. He rarely spoke, exchanging an odd word or two with the tall, moody elf who sat nearby, a representative of one of the many families living in Tirion. He knew »moody« was hardly a satisfactory description, since a brooding disposition was an everyday occurrence among this people, especially when they would hold a caucus with the royal family present. 

Though his face remained serene, in his mind's eye he was sneering at the group of elves at the front of the room who for some reason came to be called princes of the Noldor. Was it their regal attire that bestowed upon them the right to rule? It certainly was not due to any special wisdom or talent, with a few exceptions he still held in high regard. Was it because their forebear lead the Noldorin host in their youth from the wilderness of Middle-earth to the light of Aman? »Yea, following the sparkling trail of the Huntsman's hooves must have been an ordeal indeed and must have called for great wisdom!« he observed scornfully, wearing a smirk.

There was unrest spreading through the blessed lands, and everyone was trying to get out on top and bring good tidings either to their families or their lords. People were drawn this way and that in these tumultuous times, and he, too, was uncertain how his own lord would look upon these strange developments. The Valar were uncannily silent in all these goings on, and not a word of reassurance came from any of them, at least not to Tirion.

The eldest sons of the Noldóran had almost come to blows earlier. If blood had been spilled between them, surely blood-lust would have overtaken the entire hall (at the least). He had prepared for just such an event, and even now felt the weight of his marvelously crafted sword at his side. He had noticed others carrying blades as well, though none could compare with his runic sword which was forged from a rare metal found (thus far) only in the sharp ravines of dark Avathar. In any case, he had no qualms as to which side he would have taken, for he now saw a clear vision before him that showed him which path would bear his plans to fruition.

The meeting was drawing to a halt and he prepared to leave. Matters of importance had been discussed already, and he had no intention of sticking around exchanging pleasantries. There were far more pressing issues at hand and he had to consult his lord before taking any further action. He paced down the long hall, making himself invisible to prying eyes, as only few were skilled enough to do. As he was opening the main gate, he exchanged a disdainful look with Carnistir, and then disappeared into the starlit night.


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## Turgon (Jan 10, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

Leaping from Brightgleam's deck I threw my arms about my mother and placed a kiss upon her brow. I could feel her trembling in my embrace, and she clung to me tightly, brushing back my silver hair, fussing over the state of my raiment, reluctant to let me go. She was always a delicate one, the Flower of the Havens my father called her, but there was something more to this. Then, as I scanned the faces around me, I noticed _he_ was not there. _'Where is Father?'_ I asked. _'Has he grown tired of my wanderings at last?'_ I smiled at this, knowing full well my father's pride in my journeying. Always the first to study the charts I drew up on my voyages, and always eager to show them off to his friends in Tirion. I knew there must be something pressing that kept him away, and then I realised that this must be the cause of the darkness that had decended upon my kin.

_'Where is Father?'_ I asked again, this time with some urgency in my voice. _'Why is he not here to greet me?'_

_'He is in Tirion, Dagorlin!'_ It was my sister, Merethwen, who answered, her little voice cracking as she spoke. _'The city is in an uproar!'_ Poor, sweet Merry, she was still a child, unable to mask the fear in her voice. _'They say the Sons of Finwe have come to blows, and bright blades have been drawn in the city!_

So that was it was it? It had been brewing for long enough. Those who spent time on the ocean knew how to recognize the signs, and the storm that brews the longest strikes the fiercest. I knew the secret of these swords, indeed my father had crafted me a fine blade with his own hands, and presented it to me on the evening before my voyage. I would have none of it however, and liked them not. A crude tool I thought, more fitting for butcher's work. 

I knew then though that I must follow my Father to Tirion. Though my heart belonged to the Havens, I would see peace kept in the streets of the city where so many of my dear ones dwelt. Indeed my family did nothing to turn me from my course, knowing from the outset that my duty lay there, though our parting was sorrowful and wet with tears. In no time at all my mother's steward had brought me a mount, and once more I kissed my mother and my dear little sister goodbye, before swinging onto my horse's back. As I turned to leave my mother pressed something cold into my hands. _'You will need this my son,'_ she sighed as I looked down upon her gift with cold eyes. _'Your course is set. I see a great darkness before you, and a long journey home. In this you must trust me to steer you right!'_ The steel in her voice shook me more than the steel that she pressed into my palm, but the light in her eyes told me she spoke truly. So it was that I found myself, against all judgement, fastening my sword about my waist and riding hard to Tirion.


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## Confusticated (Jan 10, 2010)

"White Lady, you are bold to be in the company of my sons. Or it may be that you are wise for it. The Valar have invited us to kneel at their feet tomorrow. They say 'invitie' my father tells me. But me, I think that if we were to refuse it, we would find ourselves commanded. I would have it that way, then all the Eldar of Aman would know indeed that we are thralls. 

My father has persuaded me to attend this council. We will do so for his sake. Then at least we will know which High Prince they choose to favour, though I do not doubt the outcome. Though if dear Irisse would speak a word on our behalf..."

"You are my uncle and your sons like brothers to me, but I will not utter a word against my father... nor any of my kin to the Valar. I refuse to take sides."

" At whose table do you sit and grow merry on wine, while your father and brothers sit anxious at theirs? Do not choose sides? Yea, even Manwe could see through that. I thank you all for coming, and you are welcome to join us another evening, but I must speak with my sons now." 

The sons all walk their guests to the door, apologising for the abrupt end to the evening, and then Maicanaro says goodbye. He walks with Morfindesse and Irisse down the white stone streets. Looking down over a high terrace, the three of them see tables of Noldor dining here and there in the evening light; Telperion wanes almost to naught and Laurelin begins to wax. A breeze from the east ushers in a cool air from the shadowy sea, and Maicanaro tastes the salt. He looks up to the Calacirya's starry ceiling. As if to spite all the whisperings of leaving, a fierce love of Tirion swells up in his chest. This is undeniably home.


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## Astrance (Jan 10, 2010)

- Home, said Morfindessë, as if echoing Maicanaro's thoughts. Sweet, and yet stifling. I love it better as a place to return to, than as an eternal and unchangeable dwelling.

- Yet it is long since we rode together in the wild, said Irissë. Why would you stay here ? I would have enjoyed your company in Araman, and you would have loved these shores, where the mountain meets the Sea.

- You know well why I stayed, answered Morfindessë. Now, please, can we enjoy this twilight in peace ?

She walked a short distance away from her friends and, turning her back to Tirion, watched the dark horizon behind the Calacirya. At this time of the day, the great stars shone like white fires on the glittering spray of the Milky Way, and the Sea was a plain of darkness underneath.
Would Dagorlin be back by now ? His return had been delayed twice now, and his swift ship had been spotted a short way from Tol Eressëa only the day before. Morfindessë could only marvel at his thirst of discovery ; a great mariner he was, bold and fearless, and she had loathed going north while he would be returning from the distant south. Irissë had long teased her about this, and had at last departed alone.

Turning, Morfindessë saw the silhouettes of her friends against the distant lights of the Trees. Yes, this was indeed home, where there is shelter and laughter, but now a dark anxiety had grown, and blissful peace was gone. Home it remained, although it was already a living memory of the past, as a lonely isle of light in a sea of deepening darkness.
But, as the fish of the depth have light for themselves, this sea probably held many treasures. Morfindessë understood the wandering mind of Dagorlin better than she thought, and she wished again to ride under unknown skies, in a land where everything would be new to her eyes.


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## Confusticated (Jan 11, 2010)

After saying goodbye to Morfindesse and Irisse, Maicanaro is lost in thought. Like a waking dream scenarios of the gathering in Valimar play out. The streets are buzzing with voices, many of them fearful: what happens if the Valar become angry, or if Feanaro looses his temper. Some are merely curious, but almost all of them excited. 

Maicanaro does not hear this. How could he when Manwe now beckons him to the front of a murmuring crowd? So it happens that after Feanaro is stomped into the ground by Tulkas for drawing sword against Manwe, that Maicanaro finds himself back in Tirion and has reached the feet of the hill without ever meaning to. He must ride to Valimar at the next waxing of Laurelin, but now? Now is a good time to work. Deciding to rest later, he turns toward his shop.


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## Ithrynluin (Jan 12, 2010)

He walked at a steady pace, favouring the narrower alleys to the wide, glorious avenues. The architecture was a marvel, and to this day he couldn't help but admire all of its details and subtlety each time he passed through these parts. Many of the houses, and not just the larger and more lavish ones, boasted elaborate carvings on designated places, depicting both events that had taken place in the Blessed Realm and others that some ascribed to the deep elves' vivid imagination and others called foresight. He found the house he was looking for, a marble dwelling unadorned and of modest size. He turned and pulled at the ivory doorhandle just right so that it gave way. The house had a faintly musty smell, like it hadn't been lived in for some time. He ascended the stairway, sensing the presence of another. He was not at all early.

»I have come, Lord.« he spoke into the gloom, as his eyes adjusted to the dark. There was a small lamp in one corner, but where it could penetrate there was noone to be seen. Finally, he espied the position of the figure and turned to face it. The figure was wearing a hood, with a few locks of hair finding their way out beneath it. The only other visible feature were the eyes, which almost shone with a light of their own, despite of the blackness. The flickering of the lamp from one side, and faint rays of moonlight distorted the face, and infused it with an air of eerieness. 

The figure came forward in its chair and spoke with a grave but commanding voice: »Tell me all you have seen and heard.«


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## Confusticated (Jan 16, 2010)

Maicanaro reaches his shop. He pours himself a drink and sits at a cabinet his friend Dagorlin built. He begins to rummage through a case of gems and set aside certain rubies. But then he pauses.

"What am doing?" he sighs, and the weight of the days events settles on him. He has lost all focus to work, so the wedding rings for his sister will have to wait. His sister Elewende is getting married soon. He has been asked by her and Tyelkatano to make the rings. An important project, and one he has been putting off. 

He watches the red stones shimmer in the white lamplight. Hooves galloping from the distance draw closer.


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## Turgon (Jan 18, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

I always enjoyed the journey from shore to city, and often felt a sea-change as the light of the trees began to wash over me. It was quite an experience to be travelling beneath a sky brushed with stars and then slowly, oh so slowly, being washed the in the soft light of Valinor. Laurelin was in the ascendence as I made the climb through sweet Calacirya, and the silver light of Telperion was on the wane. Truly it made me smile, remembering a day, so long ago, when I stood atop the Mindon Eldalieva with dear Morfindessë. We had stood gazing eastwards towards the Swanhaven, towards the sea, for many hours and had spoken of many things. Of my life and of hers, of hopes and plans, of dreams and shadows. Our souls so bare, that our bodies lost all meaning.

Then, heralded by the peeling of bells, came the Mingling of the Light; always a time of wonder to one who spent so much time in darkness. We turned our eyes northwards then, and west away; standing for a long time in silence. After a while Morfindessë reached out and placed a pale hand upon my shoulder. _'Dagorlin,'_ she spoke in a low serious tone, and I, my mind drifting, started at her touch _'Sometimes I see you in the light. When you are away, and I feel the touch of melancholy upon me, this hour makes me glad. When the gold and the silver light mingles, becoming one, somehow the two parts becoming greater than the whole. It reminds me of you. Do you see it? The Noldo and the Teleri in you? Mingling? Coming together to create something new?'_

She was half right, the Noldo and the Teleri did mingle in me, but the waxing and the waning? That is something I think she never saw. I always put on a bright face for her. But as the golden light of Laurelin crept through the pass, it did feel as if my Telerin life was falling away, fading like the silver stars above, like the light of Telperion, that once more I was entering my father's world, the golden age of the Sons of Finwe.

I was surprised when first I entered the city, there were no outward signs that anything was amiss. Indeed things were positively quiet, there was a strange sense of anticipation in the air for certain, of eager minds waiting, watching... but that was not out of the ordinary for the Noldor. At least not in my eyes. Certainly the picture I had formed of swords drawn and blood in the streets was far from true, and suddenly feeling conscious of the blade around my waist I pulled my cloak around myself, hiding it from view. Making my way to my father's manor, which lay in the shadow of the Mindon itself, I found it deserted. It was not entirely unexpected, my father was Finwe's man and would no doubt be in attendance on the King. I did not tarry there, not wanting to disturb my father's household, and instead made my way to the forge of my friend, Maicanaro. There I would find the news that I sought, and more besides, as the smith had always a sharp eye and a keen mind. 

Guiding my steed into my friend's courtyard, it was a relief to see lamplight pouring from the windows. I dismounted quickly, and without thinking, threw my cloak over my shoulders, ran my fingers through my hair, and rapped eagerly upon his door.


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## Confusticated (Jan 19, 2010)

Who could it be? Maicanaro opens the door. There stands Dagorlin, and for the first time Maicanaro sees his friend carrying a sword!

"You should see your face, Maicanaro."

"What is the meaning?" 

"You are all agape, that is what I mean." Dagorlin mimics Maicanaro's expression of wonder.

But now his face softens with a smile. "Get in here my friend, there is much to tell."

The two sit down with glasses of wine and Maikanaro explains what has happened.

"I am afraid the tensions that have been building are about to erupt. You must have heard by now that Feanaro held a blade at Nolofinwe's throat. This is a dangerous situation. All of Tirion is apt to break out in battle with eachother if Feanaro does murder his brother. The streets will shine red with spilled blood, unless this fued can be healed."

"What happened today? I have learned very little." 

"There was to be a council among the lords, but Feanaro arrived to find Nolofinwe alone with the king. Rumor has it that Nolofinwe was there speaking ill of his brother. But hear me Dagorlin, this is not rumor! For I heard it myself with half of Tirion in the square outside the royal chambers; 'half-brother!' he said, 'This blade is sharper than your tongue. Try again to usurp my place and my father's love, and I will use this sword to rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls.' he said that, nay, he shouted it for all to hear." 

Maicanaro sighs. "There seems to be no solution to this growing problem. Sometimes I wish there were a true enemy. Then we could be united againt him, instead we make enemies where none should be, among ourselves. Half of Tirion are choosing sides."

Maicanaro looks weary, but is comforted by the company of his friend. He was always at ease with Dagorlin. Though he hadn't realised it until now as he compares and contrasts this meeting with his earlier companions.


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## Astrance (Jan 19, 2010)

Feeling a new unrest, Morfindessë had left Irissë and gone back to her empty home. Her parents didn't live in Tirion anymore, favouring the calm of distant moors in the North.

Morfindessë didn't light the lamps, but stood in the growing light, thinking. Her mind wandered to past days, over the Mindon, where clear and cherished memories lingered. Such peace, and her beloved by her side, as the Trees mingled their lights, and Helluin rose — an instant of perfection, blessed.
No, Dagorlin was back ; her heart told her so. He had probably learnt the events on his landing ; Morfindessë knew that, upon learning such dreadful news, he would have ridden to Tirion as fast as his horse would bear him. His father was away from town, so the first place he would go would be Maicanaro's forge.

As she rose, Morfindessë felt again this weight on her breast, but didn't heed it. She went in haste to a hidden cabinet, carved from driftwood by a Teleri hand, and there took a parcel, wrapped in a silk, that had costed her a long labour. Taking her long dark mantle, she then left the house and hurried through the calm streets. Few were walking through Tirion, not at this time of the day, but there was nonetheless a tension in the air. Although the golden light was soft as ever, and the breeze warm, no wanderer roamed aimless, seeking only pleasure in the streets.

Yet, however hurried she was, Morfindessë paused on top of a great flight of sparkling stairs and looked at the distant Trees. This was one of the only places where one could see them through the high buildings ; Morfindessë loved this sight. Laurelin was shining more and more every minute, hurrying towards her noon — but there was still time before one was almost blinded when gazing in her direction ; one saw still her slender silhouette, surrounded by the bright specks of the falling dew, between a high tower and an elegant balcony, covered in green vine.

Tearing herself from this day-dream, Morfindessë ran down the stairs and soon found Maicanaro's door, where she knocked three times.


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## Turgon (Jan 20, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

Leaning back in my chair, I took a sip of wine and turned things over in my head. In the Swanhaven we had few dealings with Feanor, but Fingolfin and Finarfin were well known to us, and Finarfin especially was well-loved amongst the Teleri. I had met with Feanor on occasion, while in my the company of my father, and found him to be rather high-minded and full of his own thoughts. Yet a practical man, if not a sensible one. His behavior strung me as odd. Of course there were a lot of odd things happening in Tirion of late. Especially since, _*he*_ had been released from bondage.

_'But what of Finarfin?'_ I said, speaking my thoughts. _'Arafinwe? What does he say on this matter? Surely his wisdom could quiet this brewing storm?'_

_'I have heard little of Arafinwe.'_ Maicanaro reply slowly. '_Though no doubt the restraint that Nolofinwe and his followers have shown is in part due to the temperance of his brother.'_

_'And Feanor?'_ Said I. _'He will has not spoken with his younger brother?'_

_'In truth Dagorlin, in Curufinwe's mind he sees little difference between the brothers. When one goes, so goes the other.'_ With this Maicanaro sighed and furrowed his brow. _'Or so it seems to me.'_

_'No matter, no matter.'_ I smiled. _'As long as Finwe is King this all comes to nothing. It is usual for siblings to fight is not? Why even my little Merry can be quite the handful when she does not get her own way. It will all blow over given time. You will see.'_

I'm not sure even I believed those words.

We were silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I wanted to bring up the subject of The Prisoner, he who was released, but even the thought of him made me uncomfortable. We had no dealings with him in the Swanhaven, but here in Tirion there were those who would listen to him, learn from him. Let him craft a ship that could outride the wind, only then would he have something to teach me, and even then I would shut my ears. And so, as once again my thoughts took on a dark cast, there came a knocking at the door. 

I must admit I started at the sound.


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## Astrance (Jan 20, 2010)

Morfindessë stepped through the door and laughed when she saw Maicanaro's expression :
- Yes, me again, to bother you. Would you, by any chance, have a guest from the Havens sitting at your fire ?
- Yes, indeed ! He will be glad to see you ; do come in.

They went inside, only to meet Dagorlin half way. 
- I thought I had heard your voice, he said, taking Morfindessë's hand. Foresighted as ever.
- No foresight today, answered she. Your Brightgleam was espied yestereve, a day from the mooring.
Dagorlin bent towards Morfindessë, and the two shared a close and silent embrace. Morfindessë closed her eyes ; being with Dagorlin again was like finding a bright light after a long dusk. His hair still smelled of salt. For a while, time stopped, as the pair knew each other again. They had been apart for a long time ; there would be many tales to tell, and thoughts to share.
As Morfindessë looked speechless in Dagorlin's sea-eyes, she was reminded that, as long as there would be undiscovered shores to explore, such separations would be their fate — but she didn't fret over it. If this as their lot, then so be it ; Arda was vast, and time unnumbered. Unless Mandos chose otherwise, they would always find each other at the end of the journey.

When their embrace came to an end, Morfindessë took a step backwards and looked at Dagorlin's sword.
- You Teleri, she said, teasing him. This doesn't suit you the least. I thought you were a sensible mariner, not a blood-craving smith.
- I rode to Tirion believing the streets to be rivers of blood, but I only found scared people hurrying to their business.
- No, we're not there yet, though some in the House of Finwë would be satisfied if it were otherwise. Has Maicanaro told you the news ?
- Yes, he has ; we were pondering the facts when you came.
- Well, come and have a seat, Morfindessë, said the lord of the premises. Good wine helping, we shall do the pondering together, and enjoy the process.

Once they were seated, Dagorlin spoke again, getting a small wooden box from his pocket :
- Before we delve further into the current affairs, this is for you, Morfindessë. I know how you like them.
When she slowly opened the box, a pearl pendant, in the telerin fashion, shone in the golden glow of the fire. White as a cloud it was, stricken with deep blue and grey, and rosy hues, the likes of which few people in Tirion had seen. The setting, however, was of noldo shape, fashioned in silver and bearing Dagorlin's crest. Speechless, Morfindessë could only look at the pendant in wonder.
- I have no words to thank you, Dagorlin, she finally said, for, although it would be a king's treasure, I will hold it dearer still, because it comes from you. And I'm ashamed of my own gift.
She took the parcel from her cloak and handed it to him. Unwrapped, it revealed a scabbard, bearing two swans under the stars. Dagorlin watched it closely and said :
- Now I shall like my sword, because you gave me what I need to keep it at peace.

After a time, when they had settled around the fire, Morfindessë said :
- I didn't have time to tell you, Maicanaro, but I met Nerdanel today. Her insight was... interesting.
- What does she think of what happened ? asked Maicanaro.
- She wouldn't speak her mind but, from what she told me, none, in the House of Fëanáro, knows precisely what is going on. She spoke of rumors spread, and deceit, among her sons.


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## YayGollum (Jan 20, 2010)

Rimpalómë glided over Valmar, attempting to locate the Mahaxanar, where the Valar reportedly sat for major decisions. He had been following Manwë's movements for some time, trying to work up the nerve to speak with him about himself and his fellow ravens, but he hated the cities. Acting polite was already difficult enough, but the cities seemed to have spawned a thousand new rules to observe. Why complicate things, when the world exists just for the love of being? 

He didn't really have to try, though, to hear that the Valar were troubled over some influential elvish princeling or other's recent actions. Most that he had spoken to about the situation only thought of the upstart Calaquendi angle, but he was more interested in Melkor's doings, especially when he heard whispers that he had been the cause of the trouble. "They'll see things my way, now that I can apply the idea to something they care about!" 

Following the crowds, he came to the entrance of the Ring of Doom, where two giant eagles barred the way. Rimpalómë fluttered over a few elvish heads for a while, before he could get them to clear a space, after which he strutted his way up to the eagles. He scoffed at their puffed-up and officious manners, when they glared down at him. "Hmph! When will this business be done with? I have a matter to bring to Manwë's attention. It has a bearing." <--- Said with a distracted wave, indicating impatience and disinterest in whatever is currently taking up Manwë's time. 

"Were you there, little one? Did you observe something that others did not? Otherwise, be off! The Valar do not gather here for everyone with a beak to squawk." That bird was serious! Rimpalómë was an Ainu, the same as them! So power was all that mattered to them? He cawed with frustration, then rudely launched himself away, scattering feathers. "If they had us watching, this never would have happened! Where is Melkor now? Why are they afraid to even keep a small eye on him?" With another caw to himself and a glare at the eagles behind him, he muttered, "It isn't all about the wingspan!" 

Thinking about how he could give the ravens a higher standing and not really paying attention to where he was going, he ended up on some elf's roof, where he continued muttering to himself, with occasional caws.


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## Confusticated (Jan 21, 2010)

As Maicanaro is witness to the happy reunion of his friends, he knows the mind of Morfindesse. He shuts out her thoughts, and turns away. He stares into the gems at his table, and suddenly... he breathes _"I know what to give for my sister!"_

"Lets sit" he says, they begin to discuss matters. "Well this must be terribly grievous for Nerdanel to behold. Imagine how Finwe must also feel. Pressured to take sides among his sons." 

" I cannot image." Morfindesse agrees.

"Would he ever choose one over another? If so, I beg Eru it is Feanaro Spirit of Fire, for the other sons might bear it. Feanaro could not!"

Maicanaro becomes aware that he now gossips concerning the family, and listens, though it is a bit too suspicious, to make sure no one is just outside the shop to hear it.

"What is that sound? Nothing it seems, just a bird... only Rumil knows which."

"Dagorlin, I take it you will ride with us to Valimar?"


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## YayGollum (Jan 21, 2010)

Rimpalómë gave a start at seeing that he had been observed. He quickly decided, though, that it didn't matter, since he hadn't been attempting to be stealthy, and fluttered to ground level, where he made as if to search. "Where is, 'just a bird'? I am certainly not just a bird! I am Rimpalómë, and I have business with Manwë himself!" 

He stepped up to them as if he owned the building. "You are going to Valimar, as well? Why? Oh! Most likely to hear of the latest spat between siblings? You Caliquendi are certainly unpredictable, but there is one that has seemingly led your prince by the nose! I have heard that Melkor has been missing since before your Feanaro created this stir. Now, why would that be?" He smirked at the elves, considering how silly the wingless looked.


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## Astrance (Jan 23, 2010)

Silly indeed they looked, their mouths half-open, and their faces shocked to see a raven speak in such a self-conscious way.
- Rimpa... lómë, mouthed silently Morfindessë.
What a name.

- Maybe you shall tell us, since you claim to be so knowledgeable ? said carefully Maicanaro.

- Knowledgeable ? spat Rimpalómë, ruffling his feathers. Me ? I'm so much more than this that it would be useless to explain it ! Even the Eagles are unable to grasp how awesome I am, you wouldn't get even the beginning of it !

- Please, master Rimpalómë, asked Morfindessë, smiling. Even if we can't fully understand you, please try, for in teaching itelf lies a great glory.

- I have thought for a long time that, since the Prisoner was released, a lot of strange things have happened in Tirion, said Dagorlin.

- Oh, so you have, haven't you ? Well, you can't even guess what has been going on !

Hearing the ringing of bells in the distance, Morfindessë was startled and thought :
- It's already the tenth hour of the day ! We should be heading to Valmar...


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## Confusticated (Jan 23, 2010)

The three mount horses and ride up the Calacirya towads Valimar. "Lelya, Ruscolindo" Maicanaro tells his steed, a light but powerful red horse. As they travel the pass of light, he looks up occasionally to study the raven. 

"What an effective design. He can fly through the air and let loose arrows at the same time. I wouldn't want to be hunted by him." Maicanaro tells Dagorlin. 

"I almost forgot! Dagorlin, I did not know you possessed a blade. Please, tell me where it came from, the design is evidently that of a competitor. I would like a closer look when we have the opportunity, I will also show you mine." Maicanaro wonders if Dagorlin also has chainmail, helmet or any armour.


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## Astrance (Jan 26, 2010)

As they rode through the Calacirya, Morfindessë closed her eyes and savoured the cold swift wind on her face. They were riding fast, as fast as only steeds born in Aman could go ; now that they were on the western side of the Pelori, they were bathed in a heavy light. No stars shone in the North now, for a mist had risen from the Sea ; even with their keen elvish sight, what laid in the distance was whitened and blurred.

Their horses' hooves rang on the earth like a hail falling ; Rimpalómë's flight was silent as the night. They were alone, although Morfindessë guessed she could see a few riders moving far ahead of them, through the mist. None of them spoke ; each was engrossed in his own thoughts.
Morfindessë was again wondering if these feuds in the House of Finwë would lead to Fëanáro departing, his own master, and lord of a part of the Noldo people. Although she disliked the very thought of her people being sundered, she couldn't help her pulse beating faster as she thought of the freedom they might gain. Would Fëanáro lead a rebellion against the Valar ?
The answer was waiting in Valmar. Morfindessë urged her horse forward, as if the road burned her.


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## Confusticated (Jan 29, 2010)

Manwe and Varda sat at the Ring of Doom with Finwe and his sons seated before them. Near at hand were all the princes and lords of the Noldor. Ingwe too was present and many Vanyar were among the crowd of Noldor. 

Many people spoke in turn, and the magnitude of the unrest was revealed to the Valar. Then Manwe took council with Mandos, and all the Aratar held converse without word. The Eldar sat in silence. Then Yavanna said, "If the Noldor hold that we are not to be trusted but the Vanyar disagree, then we can guess the cause of the suspicion. Tell us, fair people of the Vanyar: do you feel as the people of Tirion do - as pawns and our thralls - that we have ill will towards you?" 

Then the Vanyar said "nay".

Manwe spoke "Then verily it is as thou say Kementari. The Noldor have remained too distant from our city. If they would dwell among us again--"

"We would not!" cried Tyelkatano of the Noldor beloved of Elewende Maicanaro's sister , "What of the new race? Will there truly be a new people...weaker than Quendi, and more eager to do the will of the Valar? Thriving in the wide lands abroad."

"Tell me where you heard this!" commanded Tulkas.

But the Noldor were silent, and the Valar took council by thought once more. This time their thought grew urgent, Maicanaro noticed. Though he felt some admiration for the boldness of Tyelcatano, he did not feel comfortable at the though of his sister becoming involved in anything between elf and vala.

He looked across the crowd and met her eyes. Her brow was lined with anxiety. Then Elwende smiled to Maicanaro, reading his concern for her. But as he returned the expression of warmth a great shout went up! So thunderous that all save the Valar reached up to stop their ears. Tulkas clenched his enormous hands into fists and his eyes shined like white fire.
The ground shook as he sped away.

Maicanaro turned to Morfindesse, "Did he say 'Melkor'?


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## Astrance (Jan 29, 2010)

Morfindessë took her hands from her ears and shook her head several times. Her eardrums were ringing from Tulkas' shout.

- Yes, he definitely did, she said. Remember what that bird, Rimpalómë, said ? He seems to be right ; the Prisoner is at the heart of everything. But fooling us is one thing, and fooling the Valar quite another. How...

She suddenly stopped, for Fëanáro had again stepped forward in the Ring of Doom. The talking died, and silence fell on the assembly. Straight walked Fëanáro, his brow held high ; although he wore no sword, his bearing was one of a warrior seeking challenge. A vessel was beating on his temple ; his jaw was set. When he spoke, his voice was hard with cold anger.

- Today, lies and deceit was exposed, said Fëanáro. But some things were true indeed. If the Valar seek not to keep my people in thraldom, why was it that none spoke of the coming of the Followers ? Why are we kept, as if in bounds, behind the shores of the Sea, treading paths we know but too well now ? Why were the Valar, mighty in Arda, unable to keep one of their kin from deceiving us ?

To these questions, none answered, save Nienna, the Wise :
- Proud is thy heart, son of Finwë. If thou would but seek understanding, many griefs would thou avoid, and many answers thou would find.

- Proud I may be, said Fëanáro, but my questions remain unanswered.

- Thou were not summoned here to question, but to answer, said Mandos. Thou it was that broke the peace of Valinor and drew your sword to your kinsman. Truly, thou were deceived, and the deceiver shall be punished, but you can't be held guiltless in these deeds. Thou speaks of thraldom. If thraldom it be, thou can't escape it : for Manwë is King of Arda, and not of Aman only. And this deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman. Therefore this doom in now made : for twelve years thou shalt leave Tirion where this threat was uttered. In that time take counsel with thyself, and remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee.

Nolofinwë then stood up and went to his brother's side. Morfindessë caught a glimpse of his fair face, ridden with anguish as he beheld Fëanáro's grim expression ; the silence was thick, as those assembled waited for one of the sons of Finwë either to ask or to give pardon.


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## Confusticated (Jan 29, 2010)

Nolofinwe looked at Feanaro and said 'I will release my brother.' 

Arafinwe sat near with his children. He and Findarato spoke softly to eachother in musical voices. Golden and fair they stood now, and as Vanyar they apeared to be thought Maicanaro; but Tirion was their home, and Feanaro their close kin. Then Arafinwe with Findarato at his side pleaded with Manwe that the rift between his brothers might be given a chance to heal ere they were sundered. 'For the deeds of Melkor are newly revealed, and in the midst of an enemy our kin might be united, remembering their love of one another and of our father their king.' 

But even as he spoke Feanaro turned from his brothers the children of Indis, and was gone from the city.

Maikanaro was moved by the words of Arafinwe, and his heart ached when Feanaro turned away; ached at he rift between brothers. Then he grieved for the loss of innocence of Aman; knowing that from this day forth things could never be the same. Like Arafinwe, he wished for the preservation of peace and happiness among his people. In that moment he was ashamed of his pride of his new sword, and turning to Dagorlin said, 'I hope never to wear that blade again, and swear that I will do so only against Melkor.'


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## Confusticated (Feb 2, 2010)

Dagorlin said nothing, but sat in thought. Maicanaro realised that many of the Noldor would face a decision. In Feanaro truly is banished, then his sons will go with him, and many others besides. 

'I must speak with my sister.' he told Morfindesse and Dagorlin, 'then it is back to Tirion. Stop by the shop anytime. You too Rimpalome.' then he worked his way through the crowd to Elewende and Tyelkatano.

'If Feanaro is to leave Tirion then I must go with him' said Tyelkatano to Elenwe as Maicanaro drew near, interrupting. 'Do you not first wish to learn whither he goes?'

'Far from here, if I am to guess.'

'It is likely.'

'Will you leave Tirion, Maicanaro?'

'I may. I think we should discuss the matter after we know more. Let us meet at my house within the next few days. Both of you.'

'We will be there, brother.'

'Goodbye then, I have grown weary of the crowd, and desire the quiet of my workshop.'


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## Turgon (Feb 2, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

Words are strange things are they not? On the surface they are merely thoughts given voice, given form and expression. Words can be weapons of course, yet they can also be tools, they can destroy and they can shape, cut and caress. I knew a scholar amongst the Noldor who lay such store by words, he believed the soul could not exist without them. Words are to the soul what blood is the body - or so he held. The brain beats as well as the heart, syllable follows syllable in a constant rhythmic stream of being. Whether this is true I cannot say. It is plain though that the history our people is wrapped up in them. We are the speakers, the talkers, and some of us? Well some of us are listeners too. So it was that I sat there and I listened, turning these words over in my mind as if they were shells on the shore, looking for something hidden beneath each one, some deeper reason the House of Finwe was tearing itself before my eyes. The answer to the riddle of course was an obvious one, but being such there were still those who refused to see it, or simply could not see it. Perhaps it was time I sought out my father.


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## Astrance (Feb 3, 2010)

Morfindessë sat long in thought, beside Dagorlin. She felt a thread had broken ; although the scene had appeared less violent than the outburst in Tirion, it was only here, in Valmar, that evil had been sealed. For hot anger could be forgiven, but such resentment ? Morfindessë felt deeply the wound that had been born to Finwë and the sons of Indis — to reject forgiveness, to enclose oneself in one's pride ? Was it a newfound independence ? Fëanáro had long been free in his actions, but had kept whatever faint restrain a peaceful life implied. Had he now perceived them as chains, and decided to cast them away, to be his own master, and seek his ultimate freedom ?

And yet, Morfindessë couldn't bring herself to believe that such a freedom was to be found in utterly loneliness. For this would probably be Fëanor's fate, unless his father loved him dearly enough to forgive his son's cruelty, and stand by him.
She also wondered if this last possibility couldn't be the worst. Fëanor had just loosened himself from the last bonds that tied him to his family. They would grieve it, and healing would be long indeed, but the pain would come to pass. If Finwë didn't renounce his eldest son, the rift would be made wider still ; Fëanáro's freedom would have a bitter taste, and Finwë's love would be hopeless. Sometimes, parents have to let their children go, but would Finwë have this bitter wisdom ?

Morfindessë then thought of her own parents, living far from crowd and noise in the northern moors. She suddenly yearned for their freedom ; cut from Tirion and this hassle, they led their life in peace.
But youth pulsed still fast in her veins, and she wouldn't lead this secluded life. Even if she disapproved of Fëanáro's actions, she wouldn't be too quick to condemn him, for he was the only prince of the Noldor who may defy the Valar, and bring his people to Middle Earth, where stars shone untroubled.


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## Confusticated (Feb 3, 2010)

After resting and bathing, Maicanaro headed back to his shop. He sometimes wondered why he didn't bring his bed here and make it official the place was home. But when he noticed the jewels left out upon his table, he remembered his gift idea for the wedding. He knew not why, but there was a feeling of foreboding and of urgency connected to the idea.

Yet on the surface it seemed a splended set of gifts, and moreover the crafting would be a challenge to Maicanaro. Therefore his enthusiasm grew, and a grin spead across his face as he pondered how it might be done.

'Must go the library of Rumil,' he muttered on his way out the door.


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## Turgon (Feb 3, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

Dagorlin's thoughts as he reached his Father's manor were not of the tangled lives of the Sons of Finwe, nor even of Morfindessë, and how their brief time together had been eclipsed by events at hand, again leaving things unsaid between them. No, his only thought was of the long road that had brought him here. And of how he had not rested for days, not since the night prior to his landing at the Swan Havens; nor had he bathed, so it was to this now that he turned his mind. Upon his arrival the family steward welcomed him and had told him that his Father was still with Finwe, and that he would be staying by the King's side until the present crisis was over. But a bath was prepared, deliciously hot and scented with sandalwood just as Dagorlin liked it. He eagerly sank into it, putting all cares aside for the present, feeling the knots in his limbs loosen, and at last fall free. Until finally his mind drifted into slumber, and his soul was free to soar, at least for a little while.


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## Confusticated (Feb 5, 2010)

A small elf with a curly head of hair tied back, came gracefully round the corner in a blue robe. His leather slippers patted lightly against the marble floor. The elf barely glanced up, "Hello Maicanaro," only to disapear into ana isle. "You know where to find everything," the voice called before Maicanaro could respond to the greeting.

So Maicanaro shrugged, he couldn't argue with that. He strode back towards the craftsman educational books. There was a small subsection dedicated to jewels, and he loaded a stack of these into his arms and carried them to a desk. There he pulled a sheet of parchment from a drawer, and began combing through the books.

But as the hours passed Maicanaro could not find what he sought. He sat staring blankly with a 'Greatest Secrets of Aule' open in front of him. It appeared he might have to ask someone for help. He thought, _ Aule or Feanaro perhaps, but neither of them likely to spend long hours giving private lessons. _From behind, Rumil's familiar voice spoke, "Greetings Maikanaro. Are you finding everything you seek?"

"Hello Rumil. Perhaps you might help me with something." 

"Yes?"

"I need to know how to make a gem that can see."


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## Astrance (Feb 5, 2010)

The path leading to the Green Mound was steep, and Morfindessë soon slowed her pace to a walk, pleasuring herself, as always, with the double shade everything now had. She had slept in Valmar and, before leaving, had wished to visit Ezellohar one more time. 

As she got closer to the Trees, the light shone so clear that it would have been blinding for any creature with eyes less keen than an Elda's. Now and then, a soft western breeze brought a flickering golden petal to her face, for Laurelin was waning, whereas Telperion was growing stronger every minute. It was the third hour of the day, when the silver Ninquelótë was blooming with bright dew.
The rumor of Valmar soon faded in the distance ; a bird's thrill was the only sound on top of Ezellohar, always a quiet place at worst, but calm as a sheltered mountain lake this day. If it hadn't been for the slight wind that blew, some would have called it oppressive, thought Morfindessë.
The short grass that grew under the Trees was alive with an ever-changing pattern of shadows and lights, that shifted with the wind and the Trees' own radiance. In the morning of Valinor, the stars were dimmed behind the branches that rose higher than any tower in the dark sky — but who needed the Tintallë's constellations when, gazing upwards, living stars drifted and fell on one's face ?
Morfindessë caught a drop of Telperion's dew in her hand, where the flesh shone red with her living blood, and marveled at the white fire that rested within her palm. Before it could fade, she tilted her hand ; the wind caught it and bore it away.

Raising her head, she saw someone not far away ; for a fleeting second, she thought it was Dagorlin, for the bearing was the same. But the Noldo's hair was dark as raven's wing and, looking better, Morfindessë recognized Curufinwë.


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## Confusticated (Feb 7, 2010)

Rumil looked up thoughtfully, his sharp chin nestled between his thumb and forefinger which seemed to be supporting the angle of his head. Maikanaro watched him and waited. 

After a few moments of brow wrinkling and 'hmmming' and 'mmm hmming' to himself, Rumil pointed to the book lying open at Maicanaro's desk. 'Which book is that?' he snapped.

'Secrets of Aule: A Guide to Jewel-making.'

'Ah yes,' said Rumil, '...promises to yeild results surpassing your greatest imaginings or your payment refunded in full." Many was the time that I was told by a disgruntled Noldo to demand said refund. A good book for its time, but you will find that it mostly contains information that is common knowledge to established jewelsmiths or obsolete methods. The Vanya who authored it has long since retired to Valmar.' 

'What do you suggest?' asked Maicanaro.

'Theories of Artistic Crafting' might be of some help, if you can bear the Tengwar of Feanaro, I am afraid the silly system reads from left to right. Moreover the-'

'Rumil' said suddenly the curly haired elf called Quengoldo, 'I am sure Maicanaro is familiar with Tengwar. The system has been in use by all including yourself for 240 years of the trees.' 

But Rumil just waved an arm at the young elf, and left to pull 'Theories' from a self. 

In his absence Maicanaro began flipping through a large and colorful beastiary for children, called 'Creatures of Distant Lands and Seas' This had been left atop the desk next to his.

'Here you are Maicanaro,' said Rumil returning with the book, 'take that too if you would like.'

'Thank you Rumil, you were helpful as always.'

'Helpful or not remains to be seen. Goodbye Maicanaro, and mind I don't have to send Quengoldo after those books!'


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## Astrance (Feb 7, 2010)

To Morfindessë's surprise, instead of ignoring her, Curufinwë greeted her and came to her side.

- I didn't think you were still in Valmar, she said. Didn't your father leave yesterday with many of his House ?

- Some of us had to remain behind ; many things had to be taken care of.

- Where shall you dwell, asked Morfindessë, now Tirion is forbidden to you ?

Curufinwë had a vague gesture of the hand before answering.

- Formenos, I think. Not too far from Tirion, but still remote enough to be a suitable exile-place.

Formenos ? That was quite close to where her parents lived, thought Morfindessë. It looked like their days of peace were gone.

- Will you leave Tirion, too ? asked Curufinwë. Don't misunderstand me ; this is not a personal question — merely an opinion poll of sorts.

- Not yet, said Morfindessë. My heart is tied to one who loves the shores of the Sea. If he leaves Tirion, then so shall I. But if he chooses to remain near the Havens of Alqualondë, I shall be happy to stay.

- Teleri ?

- His mother. He is like the light of the Silmarils to me, both Laurelin and Telperion mingling their rays. He is of Noldo mind and Teleri heart — the best of each people, if you ask me.

Morfindessë turned her head and caught a flower from Laurelin, that was now a dull copper.

- And yet, each may come to fade, as the Trees do, said Curufinwë. Only the Silmarils are steadfast.

- Steadfast they may be, but their beauty is still second to the Trees, for these are alive, and ever changing. I know the Silmarils do change, and sometimes shine differently, but I would rather sit under Telperion than wear the Jewels on my brow.

Curufinwë laughed, and said :
- I see why you love a Teleri heart. Jewels have little hold on you. You are wise, Morfindessë, but don't let yourself be blinded by wisdom. Sometimes, it is good to be rash.

- Don't flatter yourself, then, for your brother Tyelkormo fits more this description than you.


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## Turgon (Feb 7, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

When Dagorlin finally sat down to eat, he found that his appetite had left him. Taking a seat at the low table with his Father's household, he picked at some leaves and toyed with an apple, but found he could not work up a hunger. The meal as always was a triumph, the family cook being something of an artist - a veritable Feanor of Food! But tempting though the smell of roasted fowl was, Dagorlin quickly excused himself and headed outside to the garden. Dagorlin always felt at ease in the garden; it was a simple affair, tended mostly by his Father and filled with sweet smelling plants. Jasmine was a favourite here and could be found in many colours, indeed the centerpiece of the garden was a pair of light wooden frames, cunning crafted by Dagorlin into the shape of The Two Trees forming something of a bower, and up which Dagorlin's Father had trained jasmine to climb, one was wrapped all in yellow jasmine, and the other jasmine of the purest white. The mingled scent of this display was quite something, and it was here that Dagorlin set himself down to rest.

After a while Dagorlin began to feel restless again, he could not get comfortable in the spot he found in the jasmine bower and he began to feel agitated. The recent events in Valinor, despite all his misgivings about them, had begun to stir his Noldo blood. He was excited by it all. Curious, eager to know which direction events would turn next. A small part of him balked at this, telling him to forget all about the Noldor and their petty squabbles; and yet another part of him was exulted by the talk that flew through the streets of Tirion. Some said that Feanor would surely take this opportunity to cut all ties to the Valar and make his own way to the wide-lands to the east of the Belegaer, and in his mind Dagorlin saw a new world opening up before him, a world of coasts and coves, beaches and bays - and his soul ached for it. If Feanor rebelled, would he follow? Truthfully, he knew not. The steady part of Dagorlin, though, would stay in Tirion until Morfindessë returned, until they spoke and until he learned her mind. He would stay in Tirion until then. 

For good or for ill, he had ties to the Noldor even his Telerin blood could not break.


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## Astrance (Feb 7, 2010)

Leaving Ezellohar, Morfindessë couldn't help turning back every now and then. She would have stayed longer, but Dagorlin was waiting for her in Tirion — and she had disliked the end of her conversation with Curufinwë.

- Tyelkormo ? had he said. Yes, he is of quick temper. But so are many. Temper only needs the right argument to rise ; for all your even disposition, could you swear to remain calm, and cold-headed, if you were wounded in the right place ? If what is most precious to you was taken from you, unrighteously or not ? Or even if you were suddenly given the right to fulfill your most hidden dreams ? No, Morfindessë, no one is wise, when put to the test.

- No one in your House, maybe, but I trust some would hold their honor dearer than the short benefits brought by a prompt anger.

- What are honor and wisdom ? Is it holding your rank, or the given word ? Honor can be found in many places.

- Staying true to oneself would satisfy me.

- What if staying true to yourself, as you put it, precisely involved acting on your impulsions ? Wouldn't it be folly to repress your nature ?

- I don't know, answered at last Morfindessë.

She had been troubled by these words. Curufinwë had unsettled her, and awakened new daydreams of Middle Earth, where wide lands of unknown beauty lay.
As she turned one last time to watch the Trees, far on the road, she thought their light was dimmed — but perhaps the only darkness lay in her heart, where doubt had found a new place. She needed, more than ever, to speak with Dagorlin, secretly hoping his mariner's soul would be at one with her own wandering mind.


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## Confusticated (Feb 9, 2010)

When Maikanaro returned to his shop he was met by his parents, and there also was his sister Elewende with Tyelkatano. They invited Maicanaro to a picnic dinner. Over dinner, a few matters of importance were discussed.

The parants of Maicanaro were staying in Tirion, but Tyelkatano was not. Because of this they decided to move the wedding up sooner, so Elenwe could go to Formenos with Tyelkatano as his wife. Maicanaro promised to have the rings completed, and when they asked of his plans he told everyone that he could see more reasons to stay in Tirion at the moment, but that he thought this might change in the future.

The truth was that Maicanaro had naturally grown attached to his shop, though many who were friends or who he worked with would probably leave Tirion. Maicanaro would go where his work was most needed.


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## Turgon (Feb 12, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

Dagorlin was lazing in the jasmine bower when Morfindessë came to call. Telperion was in full flower and Laurelin at its lowest ebb, a soft silver twilight permeating the garden. She was dressed in a simple mantle of blue, belted around the waist by a girdle of cunningly wrought silver, her hair was unbound and fell about her pale face like the dark wings of a raven. He was surprised to see the elf-maid, not expecting any visitors here at his Father's house, but his heart was glad for he had long wished to see her alone, and had begun to feel as it fate was conspiring to keep them apart.

_'Ah! Here she is!'_ Dagorlin smiled as he got to his feet and offered his lady a playful bow. _'So all I have to do is think of you for you to appear before me? If I had known this earlier perhaps my time at see would not have been so lonely?'_

_'Am I to take it then that you never think of me when you are off a-voyaging brave mariner?' _Morfindessë laughed, her wit more than a match for her friend's.

_'Ha! You have me there dearheart!'_ Dagorlin laughed, throwing his arms around the maiden. _'Come, sit with me, let us talk a while.'_

And so the two of them set down in the sweet smelling bower, and for a while Dagorlin spoke of his latest voyage, of his family back in the Swan Havens, of his Father and the doings of his Father's household; and Morfindessë too spoke of little things, of quiet fancies, of her parents. Both of them seemingly unwilling to speak of that which lay before the Noldor now. as if to name it was to give it power. For surely the Noldor stood at a crossroads now, and all roads led into shadow, to destinations unseen. Yet being Noldo they could not stand stand still, but must walk forward and soon the time would come to choose one, and to walk it blindly. Yet hand in hand they could find way - if they walked the road together what could harm them?


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## Astrance (Feb 13, 2010)

Long they stayed silent in the changing light, under the soft jasmine. A western breeze would now and then shed some sweet-smelling petals on their heads.

- Shall you go to Formenos ? finally asked Morfindessë.

Dagorlin sighted, and answered :

- Maybe ; I don't know. My father is there, since he serves the House of Finwë, and the King left Tirion. But Formenos is further from Alqualondë than Tirion, and you know how I love the Sea. If you were alone, what would you do ?

- I would follow the House of Fëanor, said his lover, for my heart tells me that in them lies our people's doom. I crave, as you do, for the unknown shores and untrodden paths of Middle Earth — maybe far from the Trees, but the stars brighten this eternal night. Only by the House of Fëanor will we ever be able to leave Aman, for only them are mighty enough to rise against the established powers.

- The times are troubled. Who knows what doom our princes shall lead us to ? I am not of one heart for the House of Fëanor. They probably don't know themselves what they should do. They are putting to the test their newfound feeling of freedom, and they forget we are but guests here, in a land at peace. Were they to rebel, who can tell what the Valar would do ? But I can't remain away from this. Although they are different from me, we are of a same spirit. If you would stay with me, I would go with them.

Putting her right hand in Dagorlin's, Morfindessë answered :
- Yea, I would stay with you. Before Mandos, I say it, for it is my dearest wish.


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## Turgon (Feb 14, 2010)

*Dagorlin*

'It is settled then!' Dagorlin smiled. 'Whatever road we walk, we will walk together. It lightens my heart to have this in the open now; there are too many secrets in Tirion as it is.' He pressed the elf-maid's hand more tightly into his own, and planted a soft kiss upon her brow. 'Imagine walking the wide open lands together where even the stars are strangers to us? A fine life lies before us! Aye... and a fine ship I have to carry us when the time comes!' Dagorlin jumped up and let out a silvery laugh, pulling Morfindessë to her feet he spun her around in a giddy dance before she finally came to settle in his arms. 'But perhaps the time has come for us to part... if only for a little while. You to Formenos to see your kin, and I to the Swan Havens to let my mother know she need not worry so much about me in days to come!'


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## Confusticated (Feb 14, 2010)

Maicanaro stood outside near the forges. He leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed. A bunch of elves stood round in aprons, dirty and sweaty. But Maicanaro was cool and clean, having spent his day reading and chatting.

There was an excitement in the air of Tirion, and everyone was talking about who was leaving. But among the smiths the topic had turned to plans for Formenos's building. Not a sole among them lacked enthusiasm, and doubtless many projects would be abandoned in favor of new ones. Images were conjured as they spoke of the endless design possibilities a new city would bring, and Maicanaro found his own gusto for the seeing stones was waning.


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## Confusticated (Feb 23, 2010)

_The Wedding​_

Over the next few months Maicanaro worked endlessly in the creation of two jewels. Small but clear they were and wrapped in spells that allowed them to communicate with eachother. In the creation of these it is said that Maicanaro had small help of Yavanna and Irmo, and some say that he was seen leaving the gardens of Lorien with a phial of Este's tears. 

But Maicanaro was not a master of this craft, and the stones could scarcely be commanded by their bearer, therefore they only showed to eachother visions of their own choosing. But they were later named the Mirequettar, and were seen to have other abilities.

Maicanaro turned the stones over in his palm, and closing his hand around them said one last spell. The enchantment was a command to sleep until awakened by undying love, and to there give loyalty and service at any need. Then sighing, he set them each next to a small ruby; one in a golden bracelet, and the other a necklace. 

It was the day before he was to ride to Formenos for the wedding, and he decided to spend it sleeping, for great weariness had come over him from the creation of the stones and moreover had not rested much in during their making.


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## Hisoka Morrow (Jul 13, 2021)

"Now, the fate of the whole ME relies on these 2 stones.", reviewing the classified documents again and again, Maicanaro knew that not only the ME mainland, but the whole Arda was about to be in a great battlefield no matter it's on the surface or behind the scenes. Decryption of the latest message from Arda Secret Intelligence Service reported that unidentified creatures had been making their appearance recently often, even in the territorial waters of Helcaraxë.


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