Kizár Elená Durin · @SilmarilNaro
16th Mar 2015 from TwitLonger
Stoneverse: Elennárë and Anvari.
After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sl01f7
A conversation on a winter's night.
@SilmarilNaro @AnvariShadow
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Elennárë
Elennárë turned her face upwards as she listened to her sister relate a silly tale of something that happened in Valinor. It was silly tales like those that she spent time each night talking to Lossanárë, as she felt it kept her in contact with so many of the people who she had known as a child, as well as simply being able to enjoy the contact with her sister.
The weather was colder now as winter was carrying on, and Elennárë was wearing a lot heavier clothing as a result, with both Boromir and Baranor bringing in thick cloaks and fur-lined garments, knowing well they would not argue her out of her nightly star-watch.
Anvari sometimes would come and sit with her, though he did not know the full reason why she insisted on it. She wondered if he had come to some idea of his own yet, perhaps some thought about her arcane nature that meant she felt a need for the stars.
Wondering about what he thought made her also look at her own thoughts about him. He was... sweet, easy to be friends with and someone she wanted to spend more time around... thoughts that made her wonder where this growing friendship was going. Did she want it to go somewhere in particular? *Where* did she want it to go? And at what point would she be willing to let Anvari know there was more in her background than just being Boromir's half-sister?
Certainly the last of those questions would come up when they were able to travel north, as she would have to admit to why she was chasing down information on Russandol and Cáno, and Telperinquar as well.
She could not hold back a small snort as Lossanárë picked up her thoughts and started to needle her affectionately about how she worried about Anvari's opinion. She pulled her warm cloak around herself a little tighter as she batted back with wordless amusement and the teasing turned into one of their usual silly games of mental play.
Anvari
Anvari trudged through the snow that had fallen in the afternoon towards Lady Elennárë's usual nightly watching point. He did not know the reasons for her long nightly vigils under the stars, but he sometimes imagined that she was talking to them, learning their secrets. Menfolk were closer to the stars, then the deep-born dwarves were.
To Anvari the stars were just that - a cold, uncaring light, made by equally uncaring powers. He had heard Kíli say, that if a star fell from the skies it's ashes and remnants would make the rarest of crafting materials. It was such a Kíli thing to say - he loved his art with a passion that Anvari could not quite muster, maybe because he usually thought about who would pay best for what work, and rarely did the work simply for the love of it.
It was why he held back in training, leaving Kíli more room to work with Thirán - Kili's respect and acceptance were good for Anvari's father. And while Kíli was one of the dead ones too, he had a pride and confidence that they had not - maybe because he lived among Menfolk that respected him for the weapons he made and for his courage to serve on the front lines. But the true reason for Anvari's nightly excursions sat just ahead under the stars.
Spending time with Elennárë was something that made Anvari skip sleep a lot, because those hours were too precious to waste on sleep. He knew he was being a fool. Camp talk had quickly informed him that Elennárë was the daughter of Lord Denethor, sister to Boromir and adopted daughter of Baranor - former captain of Gondor's armies and still very respected officer in their ranks. She was much above him in terms of station, and yet... she was the one person he could really talk to.
Talk about stories, about lore, about the North... so he came back, even as he reminded himself, that it all would end, once they returned home. For even if Kíli was right and King Darghûn had an open stance on the Lost Ones, it would mean living in the White Mountains, far from here. Deep down Anvari began to wonder if he could manage to ingratiate himself enough to Kíli or the Menfolk bladesmiths, to earn a post in this ruin. Elennárë's company would be worth it.
Right now, he squatted down beside her sitting point, touching a few frozen rocks to make them burn with dwarven fire. The pale flames rose, radiating heat, to warm them. "One night you will turn into a statue of ice, if you keep going like this." Anvari said softly to her.
Elennárë
"Not if I have someone heating up the place for me." There was a tone of teasing in her voice, as she had Losá's quiet amusement in the back of her mind as well. "Though I have been hearing similar worries from both Papa and Boromir, and I do try to stay warm while I'm out at night."
Anvari
"Not nearly warm enough," Anvari said, slipping his cloak off. It was nothing fancy, a heavy warg skin of a black warg for the leather and the furs were Rhudaur rabbits mostly. It looked mottled grey thanks to that, but is was warm. He gently put it around Elennárë's shoulders, above her lighter cloak. "I think I shall bring a teapot next time to make some Elfroot tea for you, that'll keep you warm for sure."
Elennárë
"Well I will admit a warm drink does help when I am not ready to head inside, so tea would be welcome." Elennárë said, smiling softly as she pulled the cloak around her, finger absently running through the fur. For a moment she paused to listen to Losá with a tilted head then grimaced, looking up at the bright star. *"No, I won't. Not even you can tell me not to come out, Sister."* She mumbled in Quenya, following it up with a muttered "Andraste's shiny butt" in Thedosian, as it had become her favourite phrase for her sister.
Anvari
Anvari titled his head, not catching that last bit, but the rest he had understood - Aelin, the elf-smith in Rivendell would speak that tongue when he was alone. He also had told Anvari that in order to read the books on the art, he would have to acquire some skill in the ancient tongue. "The stars tell you to go inside?" he asked her with a smile and a wink. "It proves they truly are smarter then we give them credit for."
Elennárë
"She worries too much because I am of the race of Men now." Elennárë said straight off, still trying to fend off Losá's teasing. "You would think she would know that at worst, I would get a cold and maybe spend a few days in bed, but she acts like it would *kill* me!" She hmphed in mild annoyance. "Silly sisters who worry too much." She muttered in Quenya, more at Lossanárë than Anvari.
Anvari
A sister among the stars? Or more than one? Legends and stories came to Anvari's mind, many stories he had been told when he was small, others he had heard while travelling. "Your sisters are right, you know," he said, peering up at the glittering skies. "it can kill you, if it gets too bad. And..." he looked at her again, wondering if he was imagining things. "I am not sure if you ever had a cold, or the winter fever."
Elennárë
"Only the memories of another life and a body that was, in many ways, likely a lot less resistant than this one." Elennárë said as she went over in her mind just how much she had said. "Just one sister as well, the other... well one thing I want to find out in the north is word about if she is known to be on Himring. If she is anywhere in Middle Earth, she will be there."
She gave a shrug. "But since Losá is determined to agree with you about not risking a cold, or worse, maybe I should head inside soon."
Anvari
"Maybe we should head back to the forge?" Anvari suggested. "I could make you that tea there. My father should be fast asleep downstairs and I assume the same of Kíli..." wherever he was sleeping, Anvari did not say that out loud. He had some suspicions but none that he was about to discuss out loud.
Gingerly he took Elennárë's hand. "So you have one sister among the stars, and one lost somewhere in the North... like in that old song. *Many stars were long forgotten, many faded and became ghosts...*" He smiled a little. "Maybe we could try and help you find your sister, when we head back North?"
Elennárë
Elennárë gave Anvari's warm hand an encouraging squeeze and let him guide the way towards the forge, sending her sister a quiet farewell for the night. "That certainly is something I have planned to do already, and I do have you to thank, in a way, for one of my first leads on it." She started, "If Elenlossë is not hiding who she is out of shyness, Aralaimé may have heard word of her. If she is hiding though, I may have to head for the coast and hope she is there."
Anvari
"Aralaimé... Aelin," Anvari frowned a little. "talking about the sea is not the best idea with him. He gets testy when it comes to that. A couple of years ago - when he was teaching me - a group of Sindar Elves asked him if he knew a way towards one of the really small harbours up in Forlindon. He gave them some odd-sounding directions, and I thought nothing of it, until I dragged them out of a nasty place six months later. It seems his directions led them into heaps of troubles." Anvari replied.
"When I asked him about it, he only said: Do not ask me, and I shall not lie to you." Anvari smiled. "That's Aelin for you, you think him a plain Noldor with little interest in anything, until you realize he is as cunning as one of those accursed wizards."
Elennárë
"It is age that does it, he is... I cannot tell for sure, but in excess of ten thousand years. The numbers get confused when you consider the years of the Trees were longer than the years of the Sun." Elennárë spoke with a thoughtful tone. "But if who I believe Little Star is living with is there, I would not be surprised a group of Sindar got into trouble. I have reason to believe anyone with a lingering dislike of the line of Fëanor and their followers would suffer much trouble there unless they kept their words very strictly controlled."
"But," she added, "I think he would be more open with me about it. He would understand I would in no way insult those folk, especially if they are protecting Elenlossë."
Anvari
The Line of Fëanor, three sisters named for stars, Sindar elves and old enmities, all those things seemed to dance around in Anvari's head, when she began to liken the years of the Trees to the years of the Sun. Suddenly her words of only having the memory of a body, made sense... in an awesome and terrible way. Anvari did not quite manage to hide his shock from his eyes, though he quickly schooled his features to hide any emotions.
Now he understood why Kíli had not wanted them to live in the forge. He knew. He protected the secret.
"Maybe we could ask Aelin to meet us - and especially you - outside of Rivendell?" he asked, forcing his voice to be utterly calm. "He does come out at times, especially when we have some rare material found that he wants to inspect. That way less people - less Sindar elves - will see you." It would be safer that way. Anvari realized that he just had learned of a secret more dangerous than all of the secrets of the old Line of Durin together, but he knew he'd protect that secret, no matter what.
Elennárë
"Maybe it would..." Elennárë said as she looked curiously at Anvari. Something in his tone made her wonder what he was thinking. "I was also hoping to find out about that hermit you mentioned... the redheaded Elf. If he is in regular contact with Rivendell, I would think Aelin would be amongst those he speaks to." The stepped into the forge and Elennárë immediately moved to shuck the warm cloak, as while the forge was not in use right now, it was rarely ever less than warm, with the fires remaining alight either by Kíli's power, or more recently Thirán's as well.
Anvari
Anvari took the cloaks and put them away, before getting the teapot and setting it to boil. He considered her words on the elf - and he knew which one was meant. Was he wrong? Had he guessed wrong about her? But then... no legend ever said that the sisters did not want to be rescued, all save one, that was.
"He sometimes comes to Rivendell, though his hideout is further north," he replied. "I will honestly admit, that I'll gladly forgo the *honor* to ever work under him again. The one time ended up with him in Aelin's forge left me shaking on the ground in the end, and unable to use even a spark for two weeks. One of his companions - they may be crazy but about the only decent honorable dwarves I know - told me I shouldn't take it personally. It'd be just his way of teaching." Anvari managed a half-smile. "If we warn Aelin in time, he might be able to bring Yárion along."
Elennárë
Elennárë laughed softly at the description of Russandol's teaching methods. "I think I know what you mean, but not all teachers are suited to all students, so..." She gave a one-sided shrug. "But he lives with a group of dwarves? Were they... blond-haired?"
Anvari
"Yes, he does. I know only two of them, and cannot tell if there are more." Anvari replied. "One of them is old - about my father's age I'd venture to guess. He is also blind and a wonderful story-teller. He is the bravest, craziest person I know, to risk crossing into Eriador as a blind man, I cannot tell how he manages at times - but he is strong in his own way, a survivor. The other one - Fion - is his son, from what I gathered. He's a good friend, most of the time, and has a tolerance for people's attitudes that I admire - but he's not right there at other times. No one wants to come too close to him, when he gets into battle rage. No one except Yárion, at least."
Elennárë
Elennárë nodded as she listened, comparing it what she knew from Elenaria, who had heard some of the story of the Dragon-blooded while at Erebor, and some of Fion's own background as well. "More memories of another life... things I know from that..." she explained, knowing it was a little cryptic. "It is good to know he isn't alone though, Rú - Yárion, whatever name he goes by right now, though I refuse to use that terrible Sindar translation." She grimaced a bit. "I will not ever tell the Sindar that they do not deserve their language, but that they insist on mangling people's names all the time... well maybe I took the story about Míriel Þerindë to heart a bit."
Anvari
Anvari poured her a cup of tea. "Names can be a shield too. Something to hide behind, sometimes one has to give up a name from the past..." He knew that his own parents had lost the right to their original names and bloodlines. Honor often demanded a price. "Maybe you can give him a new name when you meet him?" he suggested.
Elennárë
"Or bring back the use of an old one..." Elennárë's voice was soft as she accepted the tea. "Maybe he would accept it from me... despite what happened..." She looked into the mug, as if the tea could tell her just how well Rú would accept her. As well as Elenaria's Maitimo did? She had to hope so.
Anvari
Anvari could see her thoughtful mien, and the echo of sadness in it. "Maybe... maybe he gave up on his name, because he felt he had no right to it anymore? Or to his family?" His sisters? It was a concept he understood all too well, and maybe getting someone back, would be as good for him, as finding Kíli was for Thirán.
Elennárë
Though the worry did not vanish totally, Anvari's words made Elennárë smile a little. "Maybe so..." She agreed. "Too many things that happened in the distant past were things anyone who was present would regret, if they had any heart to feel it with." She feel silent for a moment before sipping at her tea.
Anvari
It was strange, Anvari knew he was much younger than her, and he should not speak so... knowing, but this was something he had learned about from his family, from the people he grew up around. "We all make mistakes, Elennárë. And I doubt anyone wants to be judged by the two or three most stupid things he did in his life.." he blushed remembering one of his greatest stupidities. Which strangely led his thoughts also back to Yárion. "Yárion once said to me that death was light as a feather but life was heavier than a mountain. That it was easy to die... the hard way would be to make up for one's faults." He still recalled that autumn afternoon, and how small he had felt before going back to his father to beg forgiveness.
Elennárë
"I understand that." Elennárë murmured. "I know I am likely worrying over nothing, that he will not be angry at me, not after all this time, but my mind sometimes runs away with me and I worry foolishly..." She shook her head as if to try and dislodge the worry we spoke of. "At least I have a voice of reason here now." She looked at him with a grateful smile.
Anvari
Anvari smiled back at her, his eyes warming. "Then I shall endeavour to be always there, when you have bouts of doubt." he replied. "Though... I am glad you will be with us, when we go north."
Elennárë
"It is an adventure I am happy I will be able to go on, especially as now I can be more than just a silent observer." Elennárë set her cup down and reached over a hand to take Anvari's, tracing her fingers over his. "And better yet I get to go on it with a friend like you."
Anvari
Anvari's smile brightened at her words. "I am glad you will be more than just a silent observer... I'd miss my friend." He said, curling his fingers around hers, holding her hand. "And... I will be glad for your advice when we do this." He knew there was no way he would be staying in the White Mountains, when she was here... which meant he'd have to try to earn a more permanent place here. But then - if he did not pass for a blacksmith, he'd sure pass for a warrior. Killing Orcs and sneaking around dangerous places he had learned long before his father had put a smithing hammer into his hand.
Elennárë
That brought out more of a smile and, rather impulsively, Elennárë leaned over to press a light kiss on Anvari's cheek. "Whatever advice you need, I will try my best. You're one of the people I want to hold onto, for as long as I may."
Anvari
Anvari felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he leaned close and kissed her cheek in turn. "And I would not want to be anywhere where you are not." he said firmly. "I... I do not know what the future will hold, for my people, for my parents... but I will return here, to Osgiliath, or Minas Tirith, wherever you may be at the time." Which probably meant front lines, for she seemed to be close to her chosen brother Boromir.
Elennárë
"I will be more than glad of that, knowing you are near." Elennárë spoke with a warmth in her voice. "Though I admit right now I would be glad to seek out some sleep." She added, a slightly sheepish grin on her lips.
Anvari
Anvari rose, giving her a quick hug. "Then you should rest. I too should turn in, Kíli disapproves of being tired while working."
Elennárë
Elennárë let herself revel in the brief hug, responding to Anvari's words with a sentiment that stemmed all the way from Fëanor about that very issue. "A tired mind leads to clumsy hands and burnt spirits." Spoken in the same Quenya she learned it in.
Anvari
Anvari smiled at the words and the sentiment they echoed, he'd come to love that tongue if he heard her speak more in it, he knew that already. "Sleep well, my friend, may the stars cradle your dreams." he said before vanishing down through the trapdoor.