Signs of Autumn - Leaf Fall: Leaf Loss, by Himring
Title: Leaf Loss
Author: Himring
Characters: Annael & Tuor, his foster son
Rating: PG
Warnings: mild angst
Book/Source: Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s-just filling in a gap or two.
A/N: Last double drabble in the sequence about Annael, the Grey Elf of Hithlum
The day Annael leaves Hithlum-is finally driven out-is a day of high wind. He enters the Gate last of his kin, half turns, as if he could still go back, retrieve what-or who-is left behind. The wind gusts in his face; half mindlessly he reaches out and plucks a leaf from the air, torn from its tree and swept along on the breeze.
When he emerges on the other side of the Gate, in Nevrast, taking his first breath of salt sea air, he is still holding on to that leaf, its stem between his fingers.
When Annael finally arrives in Tol Eressea, he carries a small book containing a description of Gondolin. Having learned to read Tengwar only later in life, he does not spend much time reading in it, but treasures the volume for Tuor’s sake-and because Gondolin is another place much loved and wholly lost.
Even more, however, does Annael treasure what rests between the pages of his book: here-a strand cut a long time ago from young Tuor’s tangled fair locks, there-brittle, dry, a mere shadow almost, the oak leaf he culled from his last gaze back toward Mithrim.
Author: Himring
Characters: Annael & Tuor, his foster son
Rating: PG
Warnings: mild angst
Book/Source: Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s-just filling in a gap or two.
A/N: Last double drabble in the sequence about Annael, the Grey Elf of Hithlum
The day Annael leaves Hithlum-is finally driven out-is a day of high wind. He enters the Gate last of his kin, half turns, as if he could still go back, retrieve what-or who-is left behind. The wind gusts in his face; half mindlessly he reaches out and plucks a leaf from the air, torn from its tree and swept along on the breeze.
When he emerges on the other side of the Gate, in Nevrast, taking his first breath of salt sea air, he is still holding on to that leaf, its stem between his fingers.
When Annael finally arrives in Tol Eressea, he carries a small book containing a description of Gondolin. Having learned to read Tengwar only later in life, he does not spend much time reading in it, but treasures the volume for Tuor’s sake-and because Gondolin is another place much loved and wholly lost.
Even more, however, does Annael treasure what rests between the pages of his book: here-a strand cut a long time ago from young Tuor’s tangled fair locks, there-brittle, dry, a mere shadow almost, the oak leaf he culled from his last gaze back toward Mithrim.