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Gems of Light by Erulisse

Author: Erulisse (one L)
Title:Gems of Light
Theme:The Jewels of June
Elements:Silmaril - Fire
Beta:None – Errors and poor decisions are completely my own.
Word Count:868


Author’s Notes: Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

Gems of Light

The fires were banked and shielded, the door closed and locked, the windows shuttered. No light from the outside was allowed into the workroom, yet the walls and the deepest recesses were flooded with illumination, the shadows sharply defined.

An elf stood at a table and three shining, pulsing stones sat atop it. Fëanáro’s eyes were haunted and dark rimmed from sleeplessness, but his triumph reflected in the brilliance of the gems in front of him. They shone from the captured light of the Two Trees.

For years uncounted have I striven to entrap light into my gems, he ruminated. At first I snared starlight – the white lights of Varda's paintbrush scattered across the sky. Her lights captured in my gems, allowed them to speak. The radiance of that blue/white light was the pinnacle of my creations for many years. Holding that light in my hands I wooed my future wife by placing a star upon her finger, and with a gift of jewelry featuring one of the stones I appeased my stepmother. Yet I strove for more; I wanted to capture the illumination of my world and even join my own fëa to my gems. I envisioned their shine and glow, their remarkable LIGHT. I wanted to see how they would gleam and who they could entrance with their songs.

He grinned momentarily, then calmed again. The road between the star stones and these three had been long and arduous. He had obsessed about the making of these gems.

Thousands of earlier versions had been faulty in some form or another. He had shattered or crushed the defective gems, casting them out from the door leading to the forge. His sons, assistants, interns and students had learned to avoid him when he walked through the main room with his basket in hand to add more pieces to the walkway. But even the rejected shards were beautiful and as they accumulated they made the walkway iridescent.

The broken pieces gleamed in multiple colors whenever light hit them even though they were embedded into the walkway’s dirt. Over time more and more chips and faceted stones were pushed into the ground by the feet of those who walked to and from the Noldo prince’s busy workshop. Newer failures were added to the road frequently. Walking towards the forge when lights of the Trees mingled was fast becoming one of the wonders of Tirion; a must-see for all elves visiting the city.

It became a nuisance and Fëanáro ordered a wall to be built around the family compound to help control the curious and uninvited visitors. His determination to achieve success increased. He focused all of his attention on his experiments, only rousing from his workbench when summoned by his wife or one of his children.

Reaching out he took the three glowing gems into his hands, gazing into their almost-sentient depths. Now that he had finally achieved this long-sought goal, he was almost disappointed. Another task had always been awaiting him whenever he had achieved a goal in the past, but this time he had nothing intriguing to spur him on. When he had been younger he had invented a new system of writing. When that had been accomplished he had started working in the forge. Then he had apprenticed with Mahtan, captured starlight and wooed and married his beloved Nerdanel. Finally he had started to work on these gems. Now that he had captured both the Trees and himself within these crystalline structures, what else was there? His head cocked as he thought, the three gems being idly passed from one hand to another.

His sons were older now. They deserved the best blades for those times when ceremonial weapons were required.

He nodded. Alright, I will make weaponry – the most beautifully crafted that I can. And I will make sure that my sons know how to use these weapons because such a thing in an untrained hand can lead to injury. Once more he gazed at the gems, the pulsing spark inside each beginning to entrance his mind within an uncaring embrace. He placed them into a wax tray that he had prepared.

I'll start on the settings for the gems tomorrow. Within a few days I will shift my forge over to weaponry and armor. I'll have to order some iron from the northern mines near Formenos. By the time the materials arrive I'll be ready to begin work on those and my Silmarilli will have been set into my neckpiece.

He never questioned why he had named them “Silmaril” – radiance of pure light - or how much they were already becoming part of his daily thoughts. He never imagined that they would be forever associated with him, their very name carried as a curse on the lips of thousands who would die in the fruitless quest to retrieve them from the hands of evil in the distant future. He only saw their beauty. Covering the waxed tray he placed the assembly into his lock-box and, turning in the now dark room, opened the door and left the workroom. The Silmarilli, gleaming and vibrating in a high voice that not even elves could hear, waited patiently.


( 16 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 26th, 2013 06:07 am (UTC)
A great glimpse of the birth of these conflict causing gems!Love the idea of the path to the forge glittering .
Jun. 26th, 2013 10:53 am (UTC)
Thanks, Linda. The pathway is based on the roads leading to many of the smaller Czech bead factories where deformed and broken beads have been thrown for decades. I'm delighted that the image appealed to you.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 06:48 am (UTC)
Very telling glimpse into your Fëanor's persona: enamored with his creation, yet already compulsively needing to move on to craft something new.

Interesting intimation that they're emanating sound on a high frequency, too! *wonders if the Ainur could hear them singing, and if that was part of Melkor's besottedness*
Jun. 26th, 2013 10:57 am (UTC)
Thank you, Huin. My Feanor is very driven to create - all that energy has to go somewhere.

Crystals actually do sing - they have a vibratory tone that we can't hear but it can register on some electrical equipment. Some people are more sensitive to the vibrations of stones than others - I'm not very, but I have customers who are amazing. I have no doubt at all that the Ainur could (and do) hear their voices and that could have contributed to Melkor's focus on these gems of light.

Thanks for your comments, they are very appreciated.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 10:33 am (UTC)
The obsession with them is obvious. I only grieve that they ended up coming between him and everyone and everything else he had ever treasured.

Love the images this brings to mind!
Jun. 26th, 2013 10:57 am (UTC)
Thanks so very much, Larner. I'm delighted that his obsession came through in my words. I appreciate your taking the time to comment.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 07:40 pm (UTC)
That obsession certainly does come through - and that restlessness of the brilliant mind, the need to perfect and move on. It is almost a surprise, really, that he stayed so attached tot hem once he had perfected them - but that inclusion of a little of himself probably accounts for it.

I love the idea of the path, too.
Jun. 26th, 2013 09:00 pm (UTC)
Oh thank you so much. There is more to the Silmarilli than just the crystalline structure. The inclusion of the lights of the Two Trees and some of the maker's fea would push them above the mundane into the surreal.

I'm so pleased that people have enjoyed my idea of the pathway. You find roads and paths like this in the old glassworking areas of Europe where hundreds of years of glass rejects have joined the soil in a multicolored walkway over time.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 12:22 pm (UTC)
I wanted to capture the illumination of my world and even join my own fëa to my gems.

You capture this longing, and his inner and outer journey, so beautifully.
Jun. 26th, 2013 09:01 pm (UTC)
Thank you for your very kind words, Shirebound. *hugs*

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 02:39 pm (UTC)
You could see the restlessness of his mind, his growing fascination with the gems. Well done!
Jun. 26th, 2013 09:01 pm (UTC)
Oh thank you! I was thrilled with my assignment of element this month. It was as good as made for me - LOL.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jun. 26th, 2013 09:32 pm (UTC)
This is so beautiful. Lyrically written - "almost-sentient depths" - and made me think of the gems in a totally new way. You captured the passion and obsession that drives Fëanáro. He has accomplished his own doom and others through the ages. I suppose that has happened to other makers of desired things. It's sad and spooky. But the gems! Ah, what brilliance! I also loved the star-strewn workshop and the wonder of the visitors. I would love to see the Light of the Trees.
Jun. 26th, 2013 10:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you for your very kind words. I'm delighted that my Feanor resonated for you and that you enjoyed my vision of the Silmarilli, his workshop, and how crystals can actually talk. I also would have loved to see the light of the Trees.

- Erulisse (one L)
Jul. 12th, 2013 06:50 pm (UTC)
This is a really interesting look at the creation of the Silmarils and of their creator. I really love the glittering path made up of the remnants of his failures.
Jul. 12th, 2013 09:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It seems that everyone's imagination was caught by the pathway of trodden shattered gemstones, and I admit it would be fun to walk on such a path. I appreciate the fact that you enjoyed my vision of one of my favorite characters.

- Erulisse (one L)
( 16 comments — Leave a comment )


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