Of Ithil and Anor by Kimberleighe
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lotrchallengesAuthor: Kimberleighe
Title: Of Ithil and Anor
Rating: G
Theme: Eye of the Beholder
Elements: Art: Tilion's Chase by Rhapsody the Bard
Author's Notes: This is a future piece of the story I am writing, The Swan's Song. The other parts can be found at SWG here.
Summary: The Sindarin tale of how the Moon and Sun rose.
Word Count: 1705
Of Ithil and Anor
The night before her departure, Idhreniel found herself alone strolling on the beach. Ithil brightly illuminated the shore, having chased away what little clouds threatened the horizon. Her shoes had been left behind her somewhere on the sand since she preferred to walk barefoot. Each step was accompanied by the squelch of the wet sand sliding to mold around her foot. The white foamed water tickled her ankles and soaked the hem of her skirts. She paused again to pick up another seashell, adding it to the collection in the small basket she carried.
“You resemble Nana more and more.”
Tirnion too had left his shoes and rolled up his leggings. He did not react when the water crept up over his ankles. They had been born beside the ocean; the frigid sea ran through their veins.
“Nana had all the beauty of the stars in her face. I am a child of Ithil and Anor,” Idhreniel argued with a smile.
“What are you doing out here, Sister?” Tirnion knew the hazards of debating with his sister: namely, the fact that he would lose.
“I thought I might take a memento of Forlond with me,” Idhreniel responded, showing her brother the shell collection.
For a while, they gathered the shells, commenting only on the size or beauty of each one. Tirnion couldn’t resist splashing her and briefly, a water fight broke out between them. He laughed, holding up his hands peaceably in surrender. Idhreniel grinned victoriously, throwing her dark hair back over her shoulder and splashing him one last time.
“I am going to miss you terribly, Sister,” Tirnion said softly, glancing at her.
Idhreniel’s sad smile revealed her own similar feelings.
“Do you remember when you and Ada would go on those long fishing trips?” Idhreniel asked.
Tirnion chuckled to himself with a nod. He smoothed the sand from a particularly beautiful blue colored shell.
“When you would cry and complain to go?”
“I did not cry!” Idhreniel protested.
His brows arched in disbelief at her objection.
“You did,” Tirnion nodded. “I remember your tantrums, Sister.”
“Anyways, do you remember what Nana always said?” Idhreniel touched his shoulder, stopping him from moving.
Immediately, Tirnion looked to the moon.
“She said we should count our blessings that we were neither Aurion nor Calathiril, for they meet but once a year,” he whispered, and then added, “Remind me, Sister. Remind me of their patience.”
Idhreniel led him to the dry sand, already feeling it scratch her ankles. They sat across from each other, as they had when they were children. She spread the shells out on the silver material of her skirt, fingers brushing over the faint grooves of the shells. Tirnion began helping her sort them by color and size.
“Aran Einor and the Star-Kindler grew tired of the dominance of Belegûr and his servants beneath the stars of the One. They took counsel with Ivon and the other Belain to devise a way to chase the darkness away. There were many suggestions. Tauron wished to simply go and wage war with Belegûr. The Great Smith, Óli, brought up an idea. ‘What of fire? We could place a great ball of fire in the sky to illuminate the evils of our former brother.’ Many of the Belain celebrated the idea, but some were ill at ease. ‘What of my plants? They will wither under endless fire,’ said Ivon. ‘And the Edhel will never see my stars,’ reminded the Star-Kindler. ‘The waters will dry up and Arda will become dust,’ rumbled Ulu, the Lord of the Waters. ‘But if we allow the starlit darkness to prevail, Belegûr will continue in his evil,’ replied Aran Einor,” Idhreniel paused, looking past her brother to the shadow approaching. “It seems we have guests, Tirnion.”
“May I join you?” Ivoreth called, her son sleeping in her arms.
Tirnion quickly rose, taking Arvellon into his own arms. Idhreniel watched the tenderness which Ivoreth gazed at her husband and son with. It eased her heart to know Tirnion would be well cared for when she left.
“You need not ever ask, my love,” Tirnion replied with a small smile.
“You two seemed caught up in your conversation. I did not wish to interrupt,” Ivoreth sat beside Idhreniel.
“You are no interruption, Ivoreth, but a welcome addition,” Idhreniel sent her a warm smile. “I was only fulfilling Tirnion’s wish for a tale.”
“She bestows our mother’s stories on everyone but me,” Tirnion interjected with a soft laugh.
“Complaints, complaints!” She only chuckled at her brother’s grumbles.
“You must continue then,” Ivoreth replied. “Please.”
Tirnion offered his son to Idhreniel and she cradled the babe quickly, relishing the warmth of the child in her arms.
“Aran Einor was perplexed at what could be done. He sat high upon his throne, pondering their choices. It was Lúrin who proposed they set two great lights in the skies, one of fire and one that would allow the beauty of the Star-kindler’s work to still shine,” Idhreniel’s eyes turned to Ithil. “Óli worked long to infuse a chariot with all the brilliance of his forge fires, while Elbereth and Ulu fashioned a ship of a thousand stars. The Star-kindler and the Lord of the Waters were finished first and all the Belain marveled at the work of their hands. She was named Ithil, but not yet could she voyage into the skies. She had no captain.
Quiet sat Ithil in the waters of the sky above the far West until Óli unveiled his great chariot. Tauron lent some of his fastest horses to pull the vessel. The steeds were black as night with fearless hearts and bright eyes. ‘Who would dare tame these beasts?’ asked Aran Einor, watching the chariot race, burning the ground it touched. ‘For we cannot send such a wild gift near the Children.’ One of Tauron’s own, Aurion, was chosen for the task. He alone was able to restrain the beasts to carry their great burden. While the Belain were debating over who would manage Ithil, Calathiril, the twin sister of Aurion, came before them with a plea. ‘O wise ones, please hear my request,” she cried. ‘I would ask to be given the care of Ithil, to follow my brother eternally.’ ‘And what qualifies you?’ Aran Einor replied, his gaze sharp upon her. ‘She is one of my servants,” murmured Ulu. ‘There is no one better to guide our ship through the skies.’” Here Idhreniel paused, quickly handing Arvellon back to his mother. The child had awoken angrily.
“He is ever hungry,” Ivoreth explained as she rose. Tirnion stood with her, as if to go with, but she stayed him with a hand. “I can handle our child, Husband. Spend this night with your sister.”
Tirnion still looked undecided as his wife walked away. After gathering up the shells she would keep, Idhreniel stood as well, sliding an arm through his. She picked up her basket.
“Will you escort me back, brother?” she knew he wished to be with his wife and child.
“If you agree to finish the tale,” he replied.
“Of course,” she said, swinging her basket. “So, Calathiril was given command of Ithil and she was allowed to first fly the skies above Arda.”
“Nana said it was a beautiful sight,” Tirnion interrupted, his gaze caught on the bright orb in the sky.
“Nana could make anything sound beautiful,” Idhreniel reminded.
Tirnion laughed and nodded.
“I cannot disagree.”
After a moment of memory, Idhreniel resumed her tale.
“The servants of Belegûr quaked at the onslaught of light. The Dark Lord peered up at Ithil and commanded his beasts to attack it. He would suffer no light to reach the depths of his fortress. Yet, the Belain had not sent Calathiril on her path without a sword to fend off any foes. Valiantly, she fought off each and every one of the evil beings that sought to bring down her ship. Then Belegûr himself ascended to the skies, his great hammer in hand, ready to knock the ship from the sky. Calathiril was frightened by the omnious shadow, but she gripped her sword bravely. Belegûr laughed, lifting his hammer to destroy the light.
At that moment, the chariot of Aurion galloped into the sky. The Dark Lord screamed in pain at the terrible light and the thunder of Aurion’s team. He dropped his weapon and was driven back into his caves. Aurion commanded the chariot of Anor to Ithil’s side. ‘Your timing is impeccable, as always, Brother,’ said Calathiril. Aurion laughed in response. For a time, his chariot accompanied her ship through the skies and there was no darkness in Arda. Those were the happiest of times for the brother and sister for they were ever together. Yet, Arda and its Children languished in the continuous day. So, Lúrien beseeched the Star-Kindler to separate the lights to allow a time for rest.
Elbereth ordered them apart. Aurion was to rise and at his setting in the West, Calathiril would begin her journey. The siblings were heart-broken to be parted thusly. ‘Will we never see each other again?’ Aurion asked sadly. ‘We shall, Brother, but patient must we be. My ship shall this time catch your chariot,’ Calathiril promised. So it is, that once a year, Ithil passes Anor’s path and darkens the day. We should celebrate those brief moments, for Aurion and Calathiril are reunited.”
They had come to the door of his home. Tirnion embraced his sister firmly.
“Though your path takes you far from me, I will celebrate when we are together again,” he whispered in her ear.
Idhreniel buried her face into his shoulder, overcome for a moment with emotion. He held her steadily.
“I have never been parted from you,” she said quietly, wiping at her eyes. “I will miss you terribly.”
“Just as I will miss you,” Tirnion kissed her forehead. “Promise to return to me safe, Sister, and I can face the centuries with your letters.”
“I will return safe to you,” she vowed, stepping away from him. “Until our next meeting, Brother. Please give Ivoreth and Arvellon my love.”
“Until then, Idhreniel,” he gave her one last smile before disappearing into his home.
Idhreniel remained still before the closed door for a moment more. Her shadow passed silent over the door as she left.
--
Notes:
Tirnion: brother of Idhreniel, captain of the King’s Guard, husband to Ivoreth
Ivoreth: wife to Tirnion
Belain: (S) Valar (singular: Balan)
Aran Einor: (S) Manwë
Belegûr: (S) Morgoth
Star-kindler: title for Varda (Elbereth [S])
Ivon: (S)Yavanna
Tauron: (S) Oromë
Óli: (S) Aulë
Ulu: (S) Ulmo
Lúrin: (S) Irmo Lórien
Title: Of Ithil and Anor
Rating: G
Theme: Eye of the Beholder
Elements: Art: Tilion's Chase by Rhapsody the Bard
Author's Notes: This is a future piece of the story I am writing, The Swan's Song. The other parts can be found at SWG here.
Summary: The Sindarin tale of how the Moon and Sun rose.
Word Count: 1705
Of Ithil and Anor
The night before her departure, Idhreniel found herself alone strolling on the beach. Ithil brightly illuminated the shore, having chased away what little clouds threatened the horizon. Her shoes had been left behind her somewhere on the sand since she preferred to walk barefoot. Each step was accompanied by the squelch of the wet sand sliding to mold around her foot. The white foamed water tickled her ankles and soaked the hem of her skirts. She paused again to pick up another seashell, adding it to the collection in the small basket she carried.
“You resemble Nana more and more.”
Tirnion too had left his shoes and rolled up his leggings. He did not react when the water crept up over his ankles. They had been born beside the ocean; the frigid sea ran through their veins.
“Nana had all the beauty of the stars in her face. I am a child of Ithil and Anor,” Idhreniel argued with a smile.
“What are you doing out here, Sister?” Tirnion knew the hazards of debating with his sister: namely, the fact that he would lose.
“I thought I might take a memento of Forlond with me,” Idhreniel responded, showing her brother the shell collection.
For a while, they gathered the shells, commenting only on the size or beauty of each one. Tirnion couldn’t resist splashing her and briefly, a water fight broke out between them. He laughed, holding up his hands peaceably in surrender. Idhreniel grinned victoriously, throwing her dark hair back over her shoulder and splashing him one last time.
“I am going to miss you terribly, Sister,” Tirnion said softly, glancing at her.
Idhreniel’s sad smile revealed her own similar feelings.
“Do you remember when you and Ada would go on those long fishing trips?” Idhreniel asked.
Tirnion chuckled to himself with a nod. He smoothed the sand from a particularly beautiful blue colored shell.
“When you would cry and complain to go?”
“I did not cry!” Idhreniel protested.
His brows arched in disbelief at her objection.
“You did,” Tirnion nodded. “I remember your tantrums, Sister.”
“Anyways, do you remember what Nana always said?” Idhreniel touched his shoulder, stopping him from moving.
Immediately, Tirnion looked to the moon.
“She said we should count our blessings that we were neither Aurion nor Calathiril, for they meet but once a year,” he whispered, and then added, “Remind me, Sister. Remind me of their patience.”
Idhreniel led him to the dry sand, already feeling it scratch her ankles. They sat across from each other, as they had when they were children. She spread the shells out on the silver material of her skirt, fingers brushing over the faint grooves of the shells. Tirnion began helping her sort them by color and size.
“Aran Einor and the Star-Kindler grew tired of the dominance of Belegûr and his servants beneath the stars of the One. They took counsel with Ivon and the other Belain to devise a way to chase the darkness away. There were many suggestions. Tauron wished to simply go and wage war with Belegûr. The Great Smith, Óli, brought up an idea. ‘What of fire? We could place a great ball of fire in the sky to illuminate the evils of our former brother.’ Many of the Belain celebrated the idea, but some were ill at ease. ‘What of my plants? They will wither under endless fire,’ said Ivon. ‘And the Edhel will never see my stars,’ reminded the Star-Kindler. ‘The waters will dry up and Arda will become dust,’ rumbled Ulu, the Lord of the Waters. ‘But if we allow the starlit darkness to prevail, Belegûr will continue in his evil,’ replied Aran Einor,” Idhreniel paused, looking past her brother to the shadow approaching. “It seems we have guests, Tirnion.”
“May I join you?” Ivoreth called, her son sleeping in her arms.
Tirnion quickly rose, taking Arvellon into his own arms. Idhreniel watched the tenderness which Ivoreth gazed at her husband and son with. It eased her heart to know Tirnion would be well cared for when she left.
“You need not ever ask, my love,” Tirnion replied with a small smile.
“You two seemed caught up in your conversation. I did not wish to interrupt,” Ivoreth sat beside Idhreniel.
“You are no interruption, Ivoreth, but a welcome addition,” Idhreniel sent her a warm smile. “I was only fulfilling Tirnion’s wish for a tale.”
“She bestows our mother’s stories on everyone but me,” Tirnion interjected with a soft laugh.
“Complaints, complaints!” She only chuckled at her brother’s grumbles.
“You must continue then,” Ivoreth replied. “Please.”
Tirnion offered his son to Idhreniel and she cradled the babe quickly, relishing the warmth of the child in her arms.
“Aran Einor was perplexed at what could be done. He sat high upon his throne, pondering their choices. It was Lúrin who proposed they set two great lights in the skies, one of fire and one that would allow the beauty of the Star-kindler’s work to still shine,” Idhreniel’s eyes turned to Ithil. “Óli worked long to infuse a chariot with all the brilliance of his forge fires, while Elbereth and Ulu fashioned a ship of a thousand stars. The Star-kindler and the Lord of the Waters were finished first and all the Belain marveled at the work of their hands. She was named Ithil, but not yet could she voyage into the skies. She had no captain.
Quiet sat Ithil in the waters of the sky above the far West until Óli unveiled his great chariot. Tauron lent some of his fastest horses to pull the vessel. The steeds were black as night with fearless hearts and bright eyes. ‘Who would dare tame these beasts?’ asked Aran Einor, watching the chariot race, burning the ground it touched. ‘For we cannot send such a wild gift near the Children.’ One of Tauron’s own, Aurion, was chosen for the task. He alone was able to restrain the beasts to carry their great burden. While the Belain were debating over who would manage Ithil, Calathiril, the twin sister of Aurion, came before them with a plea. ‘O wise ones, please hear my request,” she cried. ‘I would ask to be given the care of Ithil, to follow my brother eternally.’ ‘And what qualifies you?’ Aran Einor replied, his gaze sharp upon her. ‘She is one of my servants,” murmured Ulu. ‘There is no one better to guide our ship through the skies.’” Here Idhreniel paused, quickly handing Arvellon back to his mother. The child had awoken angrily.
“He is ever hungry,” Ivoreth explained as she rose. Tirnion stood with her, as if to go with, but she stayed him with a hand. “I can handle our child, Husband. Spend this night with your sister.”
Tirnion still looked undecided as his wife walked away. After gathering up the shells she would keep, Idhreniel stood as well, sliding an arm through his. She picked up her basket.
“Will you escort me back, brother?” she knew he wished to be with his wife and child.
“If you agree to finish the tale,” he replied.
“Of course,” she said, swinging her basket. “So, Calathiril was given command of Ithil and she was allowed to first fly the skies above Arda.”
“Nana said it was a beautiful sight,” Tirnion interrupted, his gaze caught on the bright orb in the sky.
“Nana could make anything sound beautiful,” Idhreniel reminded.
Tirnion laughed and nodded.
“I cannot disagree.”
After a moment of memory, Idhreniel resumed her tale.
“The servants of Belegûr quaked at the onslaught of light. The Dark Lord peered up at Ithil and commanded his beasts to attack it. He would suffer no light to reach the depths of his fortress. Yet, the Belain had not sent Calathiril on her path without a sword to fend off any foes. Valiantly, she fought off each and every one of the evil beings that sought to bring down her ship. Then Belegûr himself ascended to the skies, his great hammer in hand, ready to knock the ship from the sky. Calathiril was frightened by the omnious shadow, but she gripped her sword bravely. Belegûr laughed, lifting his hammer to destroy the light.
At that moment, the chariot of Aurion galloped into the sky. The Dark Lord screamed in pain at the terrible light and the thunder of Aurion’s team. He dropped his weapon and was driven back into his caves. Aurion commanded the chariot of Anor to Ithil’s side. ‘Your timing is impeccable, as always, Brother,’ said Calathiril. Aurion laughed in response. For a time, his chariot accompanied her ship through the skies and there was no darkness in Arda. Those were the happiest of times for the brother and sister for they were ever together. Yet, Arda and its Children languished in the continuous day. So, Lúrien beseeched the Star-Kindler to separate the lights to allow a time for rest.
Elbereth ordered them apart. Aurion was to rise and at his setting in the West, Calathiril would begin her journey. The siblings were heart-broken to be parted thusly. ‘Will we never see each other again?’ Aurion asked sadly. ‘We shall, Brother, but patient must we be. My ship shall this time catch your chariot,’ Calathiril promised. So it is, that once a year, Ithil passes Anor’s path and darkens the day. We should celebrate those brief moments, for Aurion and Calathiril are reunited.”
They had come to the door of his home. Tirnion embraced his sister firmly.
“Though your path takes you far from me, I will celebrate when we are together again,” he whispered in her ear.
Idhreniel buried her face into his shoulder, overcome for a moment with emotion. He held her steadily.
“I have never been parted from you,” she said quietly, wiping at her eyes. “I will miss you terribly.”
“Just as I will miss you,” Tirnion kissed her forehead. “Promise to return to me safe, Sister, and I can face the centuries with your letters.”
“I will return safe to you,” she vowed, stepping away from him. “Until our next meeting, Brother. Please give Ivoreth and Arvellon my love.”
“Until then, Idhreniel,” he gave her one last smile before disappearing into his home.
Idhreniel remained still before the closed door for a moment more. Her shadow passed silent over the door as she left.
--
Notes:
Tirnion: brother of Idhreniel, captain of the King’s Guard, husband to Ivoreth
Ivoreth: wife to Tirnion
Belain: (S) Valar (singular: Balan)
Aran Einor: (S) Manwë
Belegûr: (S) Morgoth
Star-kindler: title for Varda (Elbereth [S])
Ivon: (S)Yavanna
Tauron: (S) Oromë
Óli: (S) Aulë
Ulu: (S) Ulmo
Lúrin: (S) Irmo Lórien
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