Star-glass by Himring

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Story Notes:

2 x 100 words according to Word.


She picked up the glass and dipped it into the well—and as she held the phial in the water, she thought of the Hour of Mingling on Ezellohar when the Trees were in bloom. She remembered the first time she saw Feanor with the Silmarils on his brow. She remembered the only time she saw Luthien wearing the Nauglamir around her neck. She remembered Elwing and Earendil—so young—holding hands, staring out to sea. She felt the pang she had felt, looking up out of the darkness of Middle-earth and seeing the rise of the Star of Hope.


In her fingers, the glass was growing heavy with light and thought. She lifted it up, with an effort, and as she drew it out of the starlit water, it became almost as light again as before, as if the liquid light contained in it had no weight. She turned away from the reflection and towards the star itself, lifting up the phial towards Earendil, towards the Silmaril, the memory of the Light.

‘May it be a light to him in dark places when all other light goes out,’ she prayed.

She bowed her head.

Then she sealed the glass.


Chapter End Notes:

The prompt was: S/he picked up the glass.



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