Stone-verse: Taking Shape.



After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sk80cg and some time after http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1ska47c in Quest-verse.

As Kíli works to give Elennárë a body, they see a bit into another world.

@Valandhir @Boromir_Aesir @SilmarilNaro @SilmarilAndrast

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Kíli

Rain was battering down on Osgiliath and heavy gales whipped the land outside. When he stood at the gate of the forge Kíli believed he could almost hear the cracking of the trees under the heavy winds. The storm was here and it sang. The perfect night for what he and Boromir had talked about not so long ago. Finding the time for it had been a massive problem and Kíli was glad for the violent shift in weather. He smiled at Boromir who sat on the three legged stool near the workbench, where a certain stone orb resided. Kíli could not help feeling a bit apprehensive, to do what he planned on doing he would have to shed a lot of pretenses, maybe even the illusion of the unassuming blacksmith.

A new gale hit the building and the rain became heavier. "It's been a cold day and it is going to be a wretched night." Even as he spoke the words, he almost could hear Thorin's voice from so long ago. Maybe his spirit was closer her than ever before. Pushing away from the door he walked over to the stone chest in the back of the room. It held his personal belongings, mostly clothes, a few books, some other things, his harp... and what he now needed most: the dagger.

What they planned on doing here, needed a material able to carry and contain a massive amount of power. They were talking about a Silmaril after all, and her power alone would probably shatter most lesser materials, not to mention that the pattern he intended to forge into the material was already prone to shatter materials that were too weak. Kíli knew with absolute certainty that only two materials might be able to carry that kind of power: Eternium and Mithril.

Carefully he extracted the dagger from the chest, it still was sitting in the scabbard, aside the sword - the leather of both was darkly blotted with dried blood that had soaked the leather so deeply that no one would ever get it out again. The dark hilt of the dwarven sword sparkled slightly, with the blue and white jewels that adorned the hilt. Kíli tried not to think of Thorin having retrieved both swords from the treasure, handing them to him and Fíli... angrily he pushed a streak of hair out of his face and drew the dagger. While the sword was dwarven blacksteel, the dagger was another animal entirely. Made to be used in close quarters combat to penetrate the enemy armor, it was made of Mithril-steel, almost indestructible. His fingers traced the material, he could sense it echo into him - it was strong. "This will do nicely." he said softly to the shadows around him.


Boromir

Boromir sat in Kíli's forge, absently rolling Elennárë's stoneform back and forth across the workbench, between his hands. It is not that he has any distrust of Kíli's skills, but he worried anyway, the fiddling a manner of reassuring himself his dream-sister is still fine.

In recent days he had found out what she had stood by Shakurán through, that in itself a worrisome thing to know, but one in the past by the time she told him. It did answer the amused smirk Shakurán had given him - that he had taken up a role of being another brother and protector to Elennárë and an implication about what that meant about how he and Boromir now related. Boromir did not mind so much, but Shakurán had a way of needling him that always made Boromir embarrassed or uneasy. More embarrassed now, as the issue of Shakurán being an enemy was now moot.

Boromir looked up as Kíli stepped out of the back room, a dagger in hand. The dwarf had already made mention of needing special material to make the ring that would help Elennárë change, and had initially wondered if it meant he would have to make a special trip to the hidden mines he obtained his metal from, but Kíli had quickly said he already had the metal needed. It looked like a good knife too, high quality, bright metal, something rarely - if never - seen in Gondor.

Boromir absently picked up Elennárë's stone, holding it between his palms. "That looks like a good dagger. You are going to use it for the ring?"


Kíli

"Aye, the ring will need not only to contain the pattern but also Elennárë's innate powers, which would break most common materials." He walked back into the heart of the forge, placing the dagger on the anvil, as he lit the fires - one the normal red dwarven fire he always used to work, the other the blue flame of the arcane smith. "and a good blade is only useful when it is actually used. And I doubt I'd ever use either of them any more."

The blue flame in the left fire pit soared higher, in reaction to Kíli's darker mood. He put the dagger into the rack above the flame to have the blue fire soften it up. With a quick movement Kíli tied his hair back, so it would be out of the way, while he worked, and put a few tongs ready for use.


Boromir

Boromir had sat in Kíli's forge while he worked a few times and knew there was something powerful to that blue flame. He looked down at Elennárë and wondered how much like that her unseen flames were. That led his thoughts to wander along a path of what sort of things she had been through, a captive of Morgoth, having to survive the fires deep under the World. Somehow those thoughts were too remote for him to truly grasp, while the blue fire right in front of him felt real.


Kíli

Kíli was grateful that Boromir did not question the entire material matter any further. Closing his eyes he centered himself, letting both flames draw to him as he unlocked that door inside his mind, the place that still was entirely dwarven. He could hear the flames whisper softly, their heat increasing. The blue fire swiftly turning the dagger into a softening mass. Kíli did wait until it became white hot, and very flexible. He grabbed it with the tong to hammer it into a thin, long stripe of metal that he again heated up to the point that it glowed in angry white.

Taking two tongs, Kíli bend the metal, twisting it around itself several times, as he did so, he allowed his inner flame to touch it for the first time. The searing flame of the heat shot through him, the familiar feeling of becoming one with the material, as his mind began to work the material as much as his tools did. Using the tongs to split the twisted metal into several wires, he worked on, twisting the wires into a shape, while filling them with parts of the complex pattern, that was the basis for the artifact this should become.

When all seven wires were aglow with power as much as with the white hot flame, he carefully reached for Boromir - for that gentle link that Elennárë had created between them, to draw some of his essence into all seven wires. He was careful with it, knowing that Boromir was not used to the process, and while Kíli reveled in his work, never minding the pain and the drain it brought, he would not want to hurt his love.


Boromir

Previous times Boromir had watched Kíli work it had seemed mostly the same as he had seen in other forges. Maybe Kíli could heat the metal faster and more completely than others, but this was something different, working the white-hot metal in ways that were truly... magical.

It would take true magic, he told himself, to do what they needed, and Boromir was glad that Kíli was the one who could perform it. He trusted Kíli, his love, and the wonder of what he could truly do was something welcome.

That undercurrent of wonder still ran through his thoughts as he felt Kíli's touch. He could feel behind the careful contact... heat, strain, a deep concentration trying to hold onto several things at once. This wonder Kíli could work was taking a lot of effort and Boromir let himself open up, not wanting to make it any harder than it needed to be. *Take what you will.* He thought, inviting Kíli in to draw on him.


Kíli

The warm voice inside his mind sparked a deep echo inside Kíli, maybe he had lived away from his people for too long to not see it before, but right here, right now, he understood that he was tied to Boromir by bonds stronger than friendship, loyalty or even common love. Boromir was his One, the part of his own soul that was missing, and that Kíli had long believed dead and buried. He could not deny it, he might as well deny he was alive.

He focused on their link, gently drawing on Boromir's essence, to guide it into the pattern, to weave it through the raw arcane pattern, so it would allow Elennárë to take living form, and be linked in way of a blood relationship. Seven lines of life, woven into seven wires, singing with power, echoing the presence of the one he loved.

Taking the first two wires he began to connect them, bring them together, than another and yet another, with each of them coming together, the arcane pattern grew, the single complex patterns, becoming something that was more than just the sum of it's parts. The flame soared at him, draining his power into the pattern, taking all there was and then some. When the seventh wire touched the other six, forming a ring, that looked a little like being formed from tiny blackthorn twigs, Kíli reached deep inside his mind, pouring all of his power, his strength into the completion of the pattern - it hurt and still he laughed, this was it - the flame that would either become the work or eat the crafter alive, and only those who loved it should dare to come that close.


Boromir

From his position linked to his love, Boromir could see through Kíli's awareness how he was shaping the already complex collection of arcane workings into a growing, singular form. Even in the middle of it he could feel how he and Kíli matched each other, made each other whole and complete. It made the work Kíli was creating feel... almost like it would make Elennárë belong to both of them. Boromir's sister for having his spirit giving her the living shape, but also Kíli's as it was his power that made this happen.

Boromir could feel when a turning point came, the weaving of all those lines into one complete shape done and now a final push to bring it to life, once and for all. He could feel Kíli rallying his power and pouring it into the work, and he could feel how much of a strain it was. Though he was afraid of interfering in a way that would cause it to go wrong, he still reached out in support, a silent offer of his strength to support Kíli through. Whatever his love needed, he would give.


Elennárë

Elennárë had stayed quiet through the process, watching as Kíli worked, letting him feel her sitting in the background, so he would know the shape of her spirit so his work would match her. As Boromir reached out to support him through the final step, so did Elennárë, keeping her touch gentle and caring. While she had only known Kíli for a short time, she respected him, cared for him, was coming to view him as another piece of her new little family.

That day, a couple of months before, when she had pushed the two of them to touch, soul to soul, she had a small sense of something that like it had happened before, somewhere in another life - in multiple another lives - and now she was feeling it again, the sense of other lives where Kíli and Boromir had been together. With her recent contact with the Lord of Mandos, she felt that somehow she was acting as an agent of Fate in seeing them together here.


Kíli

Kíli could feel them both, their presences in his mind, his soul, steadying him, completing him. It seemed almost too much to realize that with them, with both of them, with his love and his... their sister he found a family again. The pattern leaped into completion, yanking every drop of strength out of Kíli, as the power settled into the ring, glowing brightly for one final time to fade deep into the metal.

Suddenly the rainy shapes outside the forge seemed to fade, to melt away, and he saw another forge in a place where the roots of the earth and the sea met, a blue and red flame, brightly shining on the face of another crafter - his own face in a manner, a face from long ago - working on two rings of the same type on his anvil.

He looked up at that moment, and their eyes met. Kíli knew he could see him, for whatever strange reason that was.


Elennárë

Deep in the arcane working, Elennárë felt it when the world *slipped* - or maybe it was they who slipped. It took a moment for her to right herself and look... at herself. She knew it was herself despite how different the form was from anything she remembered thinking up, it looked... unassuming, small, *mortal*, yet she had delicately pointed ears that seemed to indicate an elf of some form. Avari? How would she ever meet the Avari, and feel connected to them enough to take a form after their type?

"Sister...?" A soft voice spoke to her side, making Elennárë turn in surprise to the ghostly form of a redheaded Elven lady, making her cry a soft cry of surprise. Her sister, the sister she could never see again this side of Dagor Dagorath.

"Lossanárë? How can you be here?"


Lossanárë

Lossanárë moved toward this vision of her sister-not-sister, another version of Elenaria. There was something in this other Elennárë that seemed fragile, unsure and far too pained for Lossanárë's liking. Maybe it was not her sister in this life, but she was still her sister, a piece of the whole of Elennárë across the tapestry of Fate.

"Firestar... let me see who you are? Let me see your life, your memories?" She asked, instinctively speaking in Quenya, the first language they spoke in. She glanced towards Elenaria for a moment. "Let both of us know?"


Elennárë

Elennárë gazed, looking Lossanárë over in detail, trying to memorise this version of her sister by sight alone. As Lossanárë asked her to let both of them in, Elennárë turned to look at her other self. Though she did not speak, she studied her Other closely before giving a small worried nod.

Both of the other two did not fail to catch her agreement and wrapped themselves around her. What they brought to her...

It felt a little like having both of her sisters again, maybe not quite the same, as Elenaria was not Elenlossë, but they were still Silmarils. These two were strong, so much stronger that she. They had a whole group of memories within them that Elennárë did not, a choice they took that was not taken in Elennárë's life that led to a whole other life. A life that tested them, strained them, hurt them and made them strong. Elennárë could feel the shadows of tainted blood, memories of having to live through so much very human cruelty and greed and trying in their way, to leave a some Light that would keep that world from falling totally into darkness once they left it behind.

Lossanárë's life had another aspect, Elennárë could feel the bond there, Lossanárë had a soulmate, a husband who stood by her and even after his body's death, stayed with her and supported her through everything, even the mess that she viewed Doriath.


Lossanárë

*"I fear whatever came to your sister, my Other in your world, she could not have resisted as well as I did."* Lossanárë whispered, soul-to-soul. *"Thingol had some very good arguments, things I would have taken to heart, if I did not have my love supporting me, reassuring me, telling me again and again that no matter how bad it seemed, my brothers still loved me and no stain on their souls was unmovable because of that."*

Lossanárë glanced at Elenaria again. *"I have to believe, for you, for myself as well, she still loves you, that will never change, no matter how far she is from you."*


Elenaria

*"You can still find Little Star."* Elenaria added quietly. *"We know where she is in this world, she may be in the same place in yours, though maybe not in the same role." She let her other self see her memory of her talk with Aelin. "If you have a chance, go to Himling, if she is not there I have to believe that she will be close. If Cáno is there, Elenlossë will be close."*


Elennárë

Elennárë nodded, still leaning into Lossanárë's presence. These two were giving her so much, she could not help give them something back. Her memories of living in Gondor, her most recent memories of Kíli and Boromir, of Shakurán, and her contact with Námo and the gift he had given her.

The Doomsman of the Valar had given her memories, ones that came straight from those of her family in Valinor. Memories from Nerdanel, memories from Telufinwë, the younger Ambarussa who had been killed very early in her family's campaign to try and rescue them. He had been restored to the living world and lived a quiet life working alongside his grandfather, Nerdanel's father Mahtan.

But the greatest treasure of those memories were the ones straight from Lossanárë, memories that told Elennárë her sister was well, having found a warm sisterly friendship with Eärendil. These memories felt like a counterpoint to the ones this Other Lossanárë had offered her. A reassurance that she was right, that her Self in Elennárë's world was still very much the same Fire Child as she was.


Lossanárë

The memories Elennárë gave her were exactly what she wanted them to be for Lossanárë, reassurance that Thingol could not totally change who she really was, even if she had listened to him. She could feel Maferath, in the back of her mind, reacting in turn with a sense of quiet pride and a small sense of validation at this knowledge. It was something he had always tried to tell her, that no matter what, even Thingol could never turn her against the two who she held the deepest bond with.

For a moment she senses something else, coming coming from so far away. Another light, another soul, one that, like Elenaria and Elennárë, was another mirror, a mirror to Lossanárë herself.

*"No matter how far you are, my Other, if you can reach her, your sister needs you."*

The Other acknowledged her message, turning to Elennárë. *"I will find a way, Sister, even if I can not leave my place. I will find a way to keep contact with you."*


Kíli

Kíli can see them - four Ladies gathering in the strange no-space between them - or between worlds, they are similar and yet dissimilar, the same and yet different, different aspects of the same soul. Four of them? Another Silmaril he would guess, one of her sisters.

"Splinters of Fate." His other self supplies the term his mind is reaching for. It is strange to see himself like he was back then, so young still. "So you found Elenaria too, good."

Kíli shakes his head, he did not find her, and the simple assumption that it would have to have been him, could make him furious. "No. Boromir did. He found her, when her stone form was spit out by Mount Doom and carried back to the lands of the living. And her name is Elennárë."

The younger dwarf arches an eyebrow, then his eyes widen. "You never went to Thedas - you never made the promise to return and try to help them."

Kíli's stance shifts ever so slightly, when his other self speaks all too freely of things he does not want to discuss - but they are the same, so this aspect would be there somehow, wouldn't it? "I... he tried.. three times, the last almost getting him killed, then the Vanyar came and it became a moot point to try further. Wherever you journeyed, it was not my path."

His other self nods. "So you never found her during our childhood days, I cannot begin to imagine to live through all that without her..." he looks up. "you are strange... different, and you feel... unlinked, disconnected from the roots of the world."

Now Kíli cannot hold back a laugh, a short, rough bark. "Look who is talking," he feels a bit impatient with his other self, he would not wish half their childhood on Elennárë. "neither of us was ever strongly linked to the deep stone."

The other one shakes his head. "No. This is different, like something in you was... changed? Shattered? What happened to you?"

"Maybe I have not really been a dwarrow in a long time." Kíli replies. "Gondor has been my home ever since Erebor." For a moment something jumps between them, like memories jumbling, and he sees Elenaria and another red-head fight the dragon inside the hoard, deep down he knows that his own memories must lay bare for his other self too.

The younger dwarrow looks at him oddly, with a strange expression in his eyes. "You did that? I... I would not imagine trying."

"It wasn't courage, more like desperation and we still lost in the end." Kíli shakes his head. "The only dwarves I still know are the ones of the Hidden Kingdom."

Now his other self smiles. "Tiorvi's people. I always wondered if they would still be there...." He looks at the sisters and then back to Kíli. "Will you protect her?" he asks. "She is our sister, and she is alone in your world."

"She is not alone. She has her brother, and a protector - we all will look out for her." Kíli replies. "I promise. She is family and I will protect her as long as I live."


Elennárë

The two of this other life start to let her go and Elennárë feels... not quite empty, but still bereft. Though they belonged to another world, they were still Silmarils, still sisters. Still, she had come out of it with something special, Lossanárë's Other had somehow helped bridge the distance to her own Lossanárë, and no matter how tenuous that contact was, it was something that could help Elennárë get through anything life would throw her way. She had her new family, and now she had one piece of her old life as well.

As they let her go, Elennárë turns back to Boromir, who she can sense is wondering over what is happening. He can see, through bonds with both her and Kíli, what they see of this other life, and Elennárë could sense much of his attention was on Kíli's younger self.


Boromir

So much was happening right before him that it left Boromir struggling to keep track of everything. Another Elennárë, with a very different form - short, strangely very human, even more so than Elennárë could make herself seem - but incongruously elven in spite of it, another lady whose ghostly presence reminded him so much of how Elennárë manifested, but he could not keep from turning to look at the younger Kíli, so much younger than the one he knew. It was like looking at an incomplete picture, or a draft version of a piece of writing. So very similar, but not the same, not as fully realised.

Somewhere in another life, another version of himself would meet this dwarf, though if Boromir had to guess, it would not be for some years yet.


Kíli

Kíli can feel Elennárë's loss, as the moment fades. He reaches out for her, a kind of a mental embrace, to somehow let her know she is not alone. He does not know how she could meet her other sister, or what they spoke of, it is theirs and theirs alone to know, but somehow the feeling that finding her sister in this world will not be quite as possible remains.

Then the moment is gone and again they stand inside the forge, the fires have winked out of existence and suddenly Kíli needs to use both of his arms to support himself against the anvil. The setting on the anvil is still glowing softly, but something he cannot name has changed it, during their brief contacts between worlds.


Boromir

Boromir moves to go to Kíli's side, offering him some truly physical support. "Lean on me, beloved, I'm here for you." He murmurs softly, drawing Kíli close to lean on him. Looking at the deceptively simple-looking circle of metal, he watched as the glow of heat slowly faded. "How long until it is cool enough?" His thumb strokes across Elennárë's smooth surface as he felt Elennárë settling in to lean against him as well.


Kíli

For a moment Kíli leans into Boromir's grasp, feeling his presence so much more clearly than before, the very sense of being close to his One is overwhelmingly beautiful... like something inside him suddenly having become whole again. The question reminds him that they are not done here, and that their sister will need them. "It needs water to disperse the remaining heat." he says, pushing himself to stand a bit more firmly. He does not reach for a tong though, this last part, before the water, will need a direct connection to them. Thus he takes the hot metal with his hand to put it into the water bucket. It is still hot enough to be uncomfortable, and there will be a slight burn as Kíli is far too tired to protect himself fully against the searing. But it needs to be this way, it needs to be touched by the living as it passes from fire into water.

Sinking into the bucket there is a hiss, and another one, as the color of the ring shifts slightly, like only Mithril can, revealing it's full beauty as it cools. Thin as it is the process does not take too long. "There," Kíli says softly as the ring becomes calm at the bottom of the bucket. "it is cool now. Would you take it out?" The ring holds a mighty echo of his beloved, and while Kíli gave it into the water, it would only be right, if Boromir brought it back to the light and thus finished the circle.


Boromir

Seeing Kíli take hold of still-hot metal makes Boromir hiss slightly in concern, though with the insight into Kíli's thoughts at the moment, he holds back the inclination to react. He could take a look at those burns later, but as Kíli asks, Boromir nods and goes to withdraw the ring from the water, the piece tingling through his fingers in a manner that reminds him of how Elennárë feels when he touches her ghostly form, but also different as it feels like it is echoing himself.

He sets it on a work bench, and turns to take Elennárë in hand, before looking towards Kíli again. "So all that is left now is to set her in it?"


Kíli

"Yes." Kíli nods, and while he is exhausted he cannot hide the pride in his work, the exhilaration of having pulled this one off, of having succeeded at this piece of the art. "but let me gather a cloak and maybe one of your tunics back from the stone-chamber, before we set her into the frame."


Boromir

Boromir nods, and as Kíli ducks into the back room, and he looks at the ring, considering the best way to set her in it. It occurs to him that he looks slightly odd, holding a small flame obsidian ball over a metal ring, turning it one way, then another in thought. Elennárë must have caught that thought as Boromir hears her giggle in the back of his mind.


Kíli

Seeing Boromir thoughtfully play with the Obsidian Orb and feeling Elennárë's giggle makes Kíli smile as he returns with a warm cloak, breeches and a tunic, of which he hopes they can be used. He has no idea what height or shape she will be, once the magic takes to work. "I think her true vanity will be a bit less about how her stone form looks in the setting," he gently teases his lover. "thought I think you might want to try to show her strongest patterns off."


Boromir

"As long as she feels comfortable in it." Boromir replies, a thread of amusement in his tone. This is it however, the time had come to finally give his sister a safe, unassuming form. Taking a deep breath, he sets Elennárë in place, gently moving the ring over the wide point over her diameter until it is firmly in place.


Elennárë

Elennárë feels it immediately, the sense of this being something for her, something to be a part of her, an extension of her that she only needs to bond with to be able to access. She takes a moment to gather herself, gathers her courage and lets herself flow into it, let it flow into her, let herself flow into a shape that draws partly from her mental image, partly from the thread of Boromir's spirit running through it.

Flashes of the memories her Other bring up an image of standing in a strange dreamscape and thinking herself into a form she was accustomed to, and Elennárë lets that guide her, drawing on the different pieces to make up something whole, something that is hers, something that is Boromir's sister, Kíli's sister as well.


Kíli

To Kíli's eye there is a merge, like a bright flash, as the stone and the ring touch and become one, melding into each other. Her appearance is so sudden, that Kíli almost jumps when she stands between them and Boromir wraps her into the long thick cloak. She is not quite as tall as Boromir is, but taller than Kíli with the most beautiful black hair flowing around her shoulders, and brilliant green eyes sparkling brightly. Her hair reminds Kíli as much of his own family, as it does of Denethor or Ecthelion in years past. But when she smiles he suddenly sees a familiar smile with dimples... an echo of a face he has not seen since his own mother passed away long ago.


Elennárë

Feeling the cloak around her, Elennárë smiles and turns to look at Boromir. Just the feel of having a truly solid form, a head to turn, eyes to see, a mouth that can really smile instead of a mere image is already both strange and wonderful. Having the real senses that she could only really imitate... colour had more meaning, shapes looked more real, sound had more presence. "I- I- I feel-" She talks for the first time with a real voice and finds herself stuttering a little.


Boromir

Boromir hears the stumbling words as he helps Elennárë to sit for a moment. He can see in her hints that link her to his family, the way her eyes are shaped is something he has seen in Faramir, the flow of that black hair reminds him of how he remembered his father in his childhood. There are other things though, a smile that carries in it hints of Kíli make Boromir's heart jump. She is sister them both, someone for both of them to love and care for.


Kíli

Her voice is clear and beautiful, though she stumbles over the words. Kíli feels like he should hit himself, while Elennárë certainly lived in a ghostly image long enough, this is her first moment as flesh and blood, a second birth... how deeply it must shake her he cannot imagine. Squatting down beside her chair, he looks up at her, at the eyes that at once remind him of his Boromir, he smiles at her. "Welcome to the world, little sister," he says gently, trying to somehow express the overwhelming feeling that she is family.. that she is Boromir's and his sister.


Elennárë

"Brrother..." Elennárë responds, still trying to work around words right, but pleased at least she can get them mostly correct. She reaches out, slight uncoordinated, to take a hold of Kíli's hand. "My brother, both of you." She adds, turning to look back to Boromir as well.


Boromir

"That we are, Sister. The three of us, our own little family." Boromir smiles and pulls a stray lock of hair aside to press a kiss to Elennárë's brow. There would be questions, from Faramir, from his father when this got back to him, but he had chosen to make this bond even more solid and he would defend that choice to anyone and everyone. She was family now and they would have to accept it. He knew no matter what though, he had Kíli at his side on this however and that made him feel he could face any question that would come.


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