Stardreamer
The night was cold yet inviting. A deafening silence ruled the cloudless air. Stars rippled with warm friendliness on the water surface of the rivergully in the secluded Falathlorn neighbourhood. Hartagil felt a twinge of sadness as memories long forgotten drifted in to her. The silvery water surface twinkled, inducing a welcome daze and a numbing sway that lifted her feet away up and away. Slowly, at first, it seemed both stars and unseen hands that lifted her up, up into the empty space. But then, not really empty, no, for faint sounds of singing and joyous laughter could be heard when she listened beyond the pleasant crackle of the stars. It dawned her, with quite an astonishment, that she was no longer in the confines of the secluded Elf settlement, but was floating in a wide open star-filled space, her senses overwhelmed at first. Soon her gaze was drawn, irresistably, to a pavillion far off but drifting closer, pillars and white marble for floors. At one end sat a dark authoritive figure on a throne-like seat before three standing figures, two resembling Elf maids, and the third, between them in, a muscular, tall man with lower body of flowing water. She could hear their conversation in this Hall of Pillars once she focused her attention away from the dancing stars suspending her.
“But why not yet, Mandos?“ said the tall watery figure in the middle.
“He was one of Mirdain, and allowed himself to be deceived by the treacherous Annatar“, said the one high up on the throne.
“Is that a crime?“, asked the elf like woman who wore a crown of flowers and leaves.
“But Mandos!“, exclaimed the other Elf-maid. “He was loyal and courageous, and did not give away where the Three were kept! Even in the face of death, he did not betray his kinsfolk!“
“I have kept an eye on Morbaneth ever since the fateful day of Tumladen“, continued the muscular watery figure, “and it pains me to see her have to endure sadness century in and century out“.
The throned figure asked, “So what am I then to do with Tarsias, the one she calls Berialwe?“
The floral-crowned maiden spoke up again. “Let us make for him a vessel faithful to his memories. Even Manwe admitted we had not understood Eru and his intentions for us with regards to his children.. we have been far too distant…“
A sudden poke to the shoulder and the stars and the Hall of pillars faded from Hartagil’s sight, replaced by a confusing yet familiar sight.
“Danny?“
“You‘re day dreaming again Aunty! I could watch you all day but if we don’t come in right away Cider would never forgive us for missing the second breakfast!“
The sprightly slim boy bounded back indoors before Hartagil could gather her wits.
“Did this dream really happen?“, she silently mused, “or is my heart playing tricks on me for the centuries of my unanswered longing?“
(( Edited by the story-teller extraordinaire, Cutch Crane ))
