Noldor

Hammers smite the anvils. White-hot forge fires roar. Cool waters sizzle in anger whenever they come in contact with next glowing piece of great Ñoldorin craftsmanship. Both Elves present have always loved this music of creation far more than any song that is sung up in the halls of light and white marble.

The master of this workplace dunks his creation, the head of a pick-axe, into the water. He leaves it at the bottom of the bucket and doesn't take it out, even when the clouds of steam have subsided.

The other lowers her hammer. "What is it, Lord?"

The Hall of Fire, some time last month.

Her heart had leapt when he returned. She had shamelessly smiled and dropped whatever one-sided conversation had been targeted at her, the moment he appeared in the great Hall. Now, some hours later, the gathering has come to an end. The Hall is emptied, save for him and her: two figures seated on the ground, at the marble-carved feet of an Elfmaiden who dances her stationary dance.

Imladris, some time last month.

"When have I last stayed in one place this long?"

She descends the steep slope down to the rushing waters with a well-practiced jump. 

"Was it when the Elvenking kept me in his halls, after his wardens dredged me from the accursed river? How many years ago now..."

The Gondolindrim had all been brimming with anticipation the whole day, now, on the eve of the first day of Summer, they all stood upon the eastern wall of the White City, waiting.

Waiting for Anar to rise and greet the first of warm, beautiful and bright days of summer, as it did for more than a century by then. Sinilatamo looked to his right, smiling at the brown haired elleth whose hand he was holding, his vanimelda*, as he called her. She smiled back, placing her index finger on her mouth to indicate they should still be silent. He nodded.

5th hrívë, present days

Eärcalië led her horse out of the wood and down the gravelly path to Maeth’s house. She found him chopping the oaken logs in his back yard, she hopped off the horse and run to him presenting the bundle of wildflowers. He stared at them blinking, for a long while not saying anything.

Envandiel stepped from the Hall of Fire and let the door slam shut, her cheeks hot with Noldorin fury. The cold air outside the last Homely House hit her face and she drew her cloak tighter as she walked towards home.