( Only a nightmare? )

( A Note )

He is -- transformed. I think I understand now why I bore him seven children... for love, of course - and to see this look on his face again. There is no way words could describe it, to say he smiled would not be enough. And neither is it enough for me.

A daughter.

She knows Fëanor's - her husband's - house and the grounds well, now - it is the result of her near-incessant wanderings through the rooms and corridors, the gardens and the stables, without ever meeting another, or perhaps subconsciously avoiding a meeting with her family. She has spent hours upon hours in the library when sleep has eluded her yet ( Read more... )

And here she is. She has paced her room like a tigress in a cage, up and down and up again, until her steps must have burned a trail into the floor. Then, after hours of sitting by the window, her eyes sometimes closed and sometimes open, but always alert, she had seen the one she had chosen as a husband leave. The murderer, she reminds herself, ( Read more... )