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grundyscribblingTitle: Coming Down The Mountain
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Now that she's met all the Valar, Anariel just wants to go home - wherever that is now.
Word Count: 1715(ish)
Anariel was surprised to wake well rested.
She’d been expecting another round of Morgoth dreams. She’d never met Eonwë before, and it seemed pretty unlikely that Morgoth hadn’t had a special place in his heart for Manwë’s herald. Yet somehow she’d slept like a baby.
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth wasn’t a saying among elves. Actually, when she thought about it, she doubted too many people in Sunnydale had truly understood the origins of it either. Not many of them dealt with horses. But they’d said it all the same, and it fit here.
Speaking of gifts…
She’d already had the Auntie Varda dreams the other night. Bit of an ick factor, what with Morgoth very much coveting his brother’s mate, but all things considered not as gross as she’d expected. Then again, Varda was well able to take care of herself.
As you say, dear. But I’m taking care of you just now.
Varda’s presence coalesced into a more or less human looking form – what a human might look like if they were made of space and stars. She’d looked much more elven the day before in the Mahanaxar. Anariel wasn’t sure if this was the equivalent of putting on something more comfortable or not.
It’s more wearing something to suit my mood, Varda said thoughtfully. You should try it.
Anariel decided now was not the time to re-open the topic that seemed to be preoccupying her Valarin kin, namely ‘why doesn’t Anariel have more control over her form’. She suspected the answer was ‘because Anariel was begotten by elves’, but so far she was the only one who liked that theory. She was also the only one not bothered by it.
The body she had was just fine. She was pretty used to it by now. Unlike her ainur aunts, she’d happily settle for being able to heal it at need. Slayer healing was well and good, but being able to use the maiarin ability to decide one’s own form to heal would be even better if she could only figure out how to do it. And wouldn’t insta-healing just confuse the heck out of the Big (and Ugly) Bad next time they threw down?
Where did you intend to go now that you’ve settled that business about the Fëanorions? Varda asked.
“Home,” Anariel replied.
She wasn’t entirely clear on where that was, but she trusted she’d find her way. All she had to do was follow her sense of where her parents were. She was hoping her brothers might meet her partway – they probably knew where home was by now.
And avoid quite a few other relatives between here and there, I think, Varda added with some amusement. I may be of some assistance with that.
She flicked a cloak onto the bed. It was finer in weave than even what Grandmother could do.
I should hope so. Vairë and I worked together on this, Varda sniffed. Artanis still has much to learn about weaving. And light.
Anariel decided she wasn’t stepping into whatever that was.
Never mind. You needn’t worry yourself on the subject. Just try it on, dear.
She did as she was told, and found the cloak soft and light enough that she could almost miss that she was wearing anything. And speaking of light…
Yes, it directs the light around you. Even elven eyes will have trouble noticing you if you have the hood up. Which you may appreciate, as Valimar is full of curious eyes and curious elves.
Oh, right. City of the Vanyar. Was that somewhere nearby?
You may want to brush up on your geography once you reach your father’s house, Varda chuckled. It’s right at the base of the mountain. You have little choice but to pass through it unless you want to persuade an eagle to fly you.
“No thank you,” Anariel replied immediately. She’d both been there and done that, and not particularly enjoyed the experience. She’d decided that eagles were all well and good in emergencies, but this wasn’t one. “Not my kind of flight.”
There was a ripple of shooting stars that served as an amused smile. Not only did Varda already know her opinions on eagles, she and Manwë had both been fascinated by the history of human flight in “California Earth”. (Predictably, Manwë was pleased by the ‘aero‘ parts, Varda far more interested in the ‘space’. She’d been fascinated by everything Anariel had been able to remember about Hubble, space stations, and satellites.)
Well then. This will be useful to you. And possibly not just in Valimar.
Anariel waited, but Auntie Varda wasn’t in an explanatory mood.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
You’re welcome, dear. Don’t be a stranger. I am curious to hear more of telescopes. And satellites.
Anariel smiled.
The idea that humans put so much effort into seeing her stars better had tickled the Starkindler.
“Next time,” she promised.
Of course.
There was a brush of starfire on her hair, and then Varda’s attention was elsewhere. Anariel wondered for a second if she’d gone to make more stars.
Then she hefted the small bag that contained the few possessions she’d collected since arriving in Lórien, strapped it on, and slung her new cloak over it.
She set off down the trail that led from the small courtyard that seemed to exist solely for the benefit of any elven visitors. The trail was easy enough to follow, marked by flowers and brightly colored stones. Unfortunately, it did not seem to be motivated by practical considerations like “getting from point A to point B efficiently.”
As far as she could see, there was no reason the path couldn’t have proceeded on a more direct route down the slopes. Instead it corkscrewed around the mountain in progressively larger loops. She suspected, given that the path was for elves, that there was some elven logic involved that was escaping her – or possibly she just wouldn’t get it at all. The Amanyar had long enjoyed the luxury of being impractical where the elves of Ennor couldn’t.
At first her view was of eastern Aman, the slopes of the lesser Pelori running down toward the coastal plain. As she went, that gave way to hills marching away toward Formenos, and finally the broad panorama of western Aman, plains and forests stretching out lazily toward the Ekkaia. Thanks to her ‘meet the Valarin family’ tour, those lands were somewhat familiar to her.
On her second loop around the mountain, she was able to pick out a few features she’d learned about but never seen before, like the Ezohollar and the remains of the Trees, now something like a shrine. And, of course, there was also Valimar itself. It was very… shiny. Also a little noisy with all the bells and windchimes.
By the third loop, it occurred to her that it might be time to put her nifty new cloak to use. If she was getting far enough down the mountain that she could pick out people in the city, they could probably spot her as well if they happened to look in the right direction. Elven eyes and all that.
After pulling her cloak on, she decided it was time for a break. It had been a good couple hours hike so far, and it looked like she had about the same still to go. What’s more, she had a clear view of the city from here, and a rock sized perfectly for sitting down on. It might not be such a bad idea to take a look at what she was getting herself into – now that no one could see her, she was free to scope out the city from a safe distance. Also, a snack would be good.
The waybread in her pack was made by Yavanna herself. Anariel suspected most elves would have proclaimed it the best waybread in Arda. But deep down – very quietly, just in case any of her Valarin aunties were keeping tabs on her as she suspected – Anariel couldn’t quite escape the minor disappointment that it was not Grandmother’s. She’d take the lembas of Lothlorien any day.
From what she could see, Varda was correct that there was no good way for her to avoid going through Valimar. Not only did the city itself run right up to the foot of the mountain, whoever had designed the path had incorporated it seamlessly, bringing it to an end on a raised platform in a formal square closer to the center of town than the edge of it. Her choices were to leave the path somewhere on its last circuit around the mountain and hope she could find her way without getting lost, or march straight through Valimar as quickly as possible.
On the bright side, it looked like there was more or less a straight line from the square of the mountain path to the city gates and the road beyond them. She had no idea where the road led – she would guess Tirion, but the last news anyone in Ennor had gotten from Aman was in the mid-Second Age, so there could well be other options.
No matter where the road led, she was pretty sure that if she found her way into the forest beyond it, she would find her brothers fairly close by. It would have been helpful if she’d dared speak to them using osanwë, but she wasn’t about to try that with a whole city full of unknown elves between her and them, and the knowledge that all the Vanyarin relatives she knew of were said to be talented with osanwë. For all she knew, it was a general Vanyarin thing.
It was just a shame her first Amanyar city had to be Valimar. She might be related to them, but she knew less about the Vanyar than she did about several eastern tribes of the Evair. It might have been nice to mingle, particularly since her hair color would be nothing out of the ordinary there the way it had been in most elven realms of Middle-earth. But she really wasn’t in a people mood. Not unless the people in question were her parents, siblings, and her parents’ parents. Anyone beyond that could take a number.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Now that she's met all the Valar, Anariel just wants to go home - wherever that is now.
Word Count: 1715(ish)
Anariel was surprised to wake well rested.
She’d been expecting another round of Morgoth dreams. She’d never met Eonwë before, and it seemed pretty unlikely that Morgoth hadn’t had a special place in his heart for Manwë’s herald. Yet somehow she’d slept like a baby.
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth wasn’t a saying among elves. Actually, when she thought about it, she doubted too many people in Sunnydale had truly understood the origins of it either. Not many of them dealt with horses. But they’d said it all the same, and it fit here.
Speaking of gifts…
She’d already had the Auntie Varda dreams the other night. Bit of an ick factor, what with Morgoth very much coveting his brother’s mate, but all things considered not as gross as she’d expected. Then again, Varda was well able to take care of herself.
As you say, dear. But I’m taking care of you just now.
Varda’s presence coalesced into a more or less human looking form – what a human might look like if they were made of space and stars. She’d looked much more elven the day before in the Mahanaxar. Anariel wasn’t sure if this was the equivalent of putting on something more comfortable or not.
It’s more wearing something to suit my mood, Varda said thoughtfully. You should try it.
Anariel decided now was not the time to re-open the topic that seemed to be preoccupying her Valarin kin, namely ‘why doesn’t Anariel have more control over her form’. She suspected the answer was ‘because Anariel was begotten by elves’, but so far she was the only one who liked that theory. She was also the only one not bothered by it.
The body she had was just fine. She was pretty used to it by now. Unlike her ainur aunts, she’d happily settle for being able to heal it at need. Slayer healing was well and good, but being able to use the maiarin ability to decide one’s own form to heal would be even better if she could only figure out how to do it. And wouldn’t insta-healing just confuse the heck out of the Big (and Ugly) Bad next time they threw down?
Where did you intend to go now that you’ve settled that business about the Fëanorions? Varda asked.
“Home,” Anariel replied.
She wasn’t entirely clear on where that was, but she trusted she’d find her way. All she had to do was follow her sense of where her parents were. She was hoping her brothers might meet her partway – they probably knew where home was by now.
And avoid quite a few other relatives between here and there, I think, Varda added with some amusement. I may be of some assistance with that.
She flicked a cloak onto the bed. It was finer in weave than even what Grandmother could do.
I should hope so. Vairë and I worked together on this, Varda sniffed. Artanis still has much to learn about weaving. And light.
Anariel decided she wasn’t stepping into whatever that was.
Never mind. You needn’t worry yourself on the subject. Just try it on, dear.
She did as she was told, and found the cloak soft and light enough that she could almost miss that she was wearing anything. And speaking of light…
Yes, it directs the light around you. Even elven eyes will have trouble noticing you if you have the hood up. Which you may appreciate, as Valimar is full of curious eyes and curious elves.
Oh, right. City of the Vanyar. Was that somewhere nearby?
You may want to brush up on your geography once you reach your father’s house, Varda chuckled. It’s right at the base of the mountain. You have little choice but to pass through it unless you want to persuade an eagle to fly you.
“No thank you,” Anariel replied immediately. She’d both been there and done that, and not particularly enjoyed the experience. She’d decided that eagles were all well and good in emergencies, but this wasn’t one. “Not my kind of flight.”
There was a ripple of shooting stars that served as an amused smile. Not only did Varda already know her opinions on eagles, she and Manwë had both been fascinated by the history of human flight in “California Earth”. (Predictably, Manwë was pleased by the ‘aero‘ parts, Varda far more interested in the ‘space’. She’d been fascinated by everything Anariel had been able to remember about Hubble, space stations, and satellites.)
Well then. This will be useful to you. And possibly not just in Valimar.
Anariel waited, but Auntie Varda wasn’t in an explanatory mood.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
You’re welcome, dear. Don’t be a stranger. I am curious to hear more of telescopes. And satellites.
Anariel smiled.
The idea that humans put so much effort into seeing her stars better had tickled the Starkindler.
“Next time,” she promised.
Of course.
There was a brush of starfire on her hair, and then Varda’s attention was elsewhere. Anariel wondered for a second if she’d gone to make more stars.
Then she hefted the small bag that contained the few possessions she’d collected since arriving in Lórien, strapped it on, and slung her new cloak over it.
She set off down the trail that led from the small courtyard that seemed to exist solely for the benefit of any elven visitors. The trail was easy enough to follow, marked by flowers and brightly colored stones. Unfortunately, it did not seem to be motivated by practical considerations like “getting from point A to point B efficiently.”
As far as she could see, there was no reason the path couldn’t have proceeded on a more direct route down the slopes. Instead it corkscrewed around the mountain in progressively larger loops. She suspected, given that the path was for elves, that there was some elven logic involved that was escaping her – or possibly she just wouldn’t get it at all. The Amanyar had long enjoyed the luxury of being impractical where the elves of Ennor couldn’t.
At first her view was of eastern Aman, the slopes of the lesser Pelori running down toward the coastal plain. As she went, that gave way to hills marching away toward Formenos, and finally the broad panorama of western Aman, plains and forests stretching out lazily toward the Ekkaia. Thanks to her ‘meet the Valarin family’ tour, those lands were somewhat familiar to her.
On her second loop around the mountain, she was able to pick out a few features she’d learned about but never seen before, like the Ezohollar and the remains of the Trees, now something like a shrine. And, of course, there was also Valimar itself. It was very… shiny. Also a little noisy with all the bells and windchimes.
By the third loop, it occurred to her that it might be time to put her nifty new cloak to use. If she was getting far enough down the mountain that she could pick out people in the city, they could probably spot her as well if they happened to look in the right direction. Elven eyes and all that.
After pulling her cloak on, she decided it was time for a break. It had been a good couple hours hike so far, and it looked like she had about the same still to go. What’s more, she had a clear view of the city from here, and a rock sized perfectly for sitting down on. It might not be such a bad idea to take a look at what she was getting herself into – now that no one could see her, she was free to scope out the city from a safe distance. Also, a snack would be good.
The waybread in her pack was made by Yavanna herself. Anariel suspected most elves would have proclaimed it the best waybread in Arda. But deep down – very quietly, just in case any of her Valarin aunties were keeping tabs on her as she suspected – Anariel couldn’t quite escape the minor disappointment that it was not Grandmother’s. She’d take the lembas of Lothlorien any day.
From what she could see, Varda was correct that there was no good way for her to avoid going through Valimar. Not only did the city itself run right up to the foot of the mountain, whoever had designed the path had incorporated it seamlessly, bringing it to an end on a raised platform in a formal square closer to the center of town than the edge of it. Her choices were to leave the path somewhere on its last circuit around the mountain and hope she could find her way without getting lost, or march straight through Valimar as quickly as possible.
On the bright side, it looked like there was more or less a straight line from the square of the mountain path to the city gates and the road beyond them. She had no idea where the road led – she would guess Tirion, but the last news anyone in Ennor had gotten from Aman was in the mid-Second Age, so there could well be other options.
No matter where the road led, she was pretty sure that if she found her way into the forest beyond it, she would find her brothers fairly close by. It would have been helpful if she’d dared speak to them using osanwë, but she wasn’t about to try that with a whole city full of unknown elves between her and them, and the knowledge that all the Vanyarin relatives she knew of were said to be talented with osanwë. For all she knew, it was a general Vanyarin thing.
It was just a shame her first Amanyar city had to be Valimar. She might be related to them, but she knew less about the Vanyar than she did about several eastern tribes of the Evair. It might have been nice to mingle, particularly since her hair color would be nothing out of the ordinary there the way it had been in most elven realms of Middle-earth. But she really wasn’t in a people mood. Not unless the people in question were her parents, siblings, and her parents’ parents. Anyone beyond that could take a number.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-02 10:29 pm (UTC)Anariel decided she wasn’t stepping into whatever that was. "
*snickers* I don't blame Buffy, I'm sure her thoughts flashed to Arachne and Athena the way mine did, though I'm quite sure neither Varda nor Vairë are nearly so vain or capricious as Athena.
Thank you for this, it's always wonderful to get anything in the DoC 'verse. :) I have to wonder how long it's going to take Tinu and the guys to locate Anariel while she's actively avoiding people in general. I also have to wonder if Anariel is going to clue in that she can do the instantaneous travel bit like the rest of the Ainur. *ponders*
no subject
Date: 2021-08-03 01:52 am (UTC)"People in general" does not necessarily mean her immediate family...
no subject
Date: 2021-08-03 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-03 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-29 10:41 pm (UTC)The Amanyar had long enjoyed the luxury of being impractical where the elves of Ennor couldn’t.
♥
no subject
Date: 2021-09-07 01:44 am (UTC)I was a bit mean not doing any Anariel between Fic A Days, but I've been trying to finish up the WIPs I have going between...