#i think saedhruin was the name he got in middle-earth and it just stuck

[find-the-path]

Oc-tober Day 18 - Lost - Saedhruin

They sit by the Sea, for chance has brought both of them here at the Trees’ Mingling, and neither is keen to leave yet.

Saedhruin lies with unshod feet in the surf, head pillowed on a small mound of shining sand, but Eithruin sits upright not far away, gaze directly firmly into the abyss of night beyond the Calacirya.

“When will you leave?” She asks at length, and Saedhruin imagines her pacing back and forth on the stone floor of their childhood home in Tirion. She does not now, for they both of them have delusions of having achieved adulthood, and in any case sand makes a poor medium for a proper stamp about. For five seconds he lets his mind rotate that thought, but then with a mental heave he sets it to the question. He sighs.

“Three days, I guess, and certainly not more than four. The prince is spitting mad, or so Lícumatan says, and has left already. We follow behind.” Eithruin does not answer for a long minute.

She is not coming. He knows that, had guessed it from the first, and will not ask the pointless question. To Formenos all of Fёanor’s people are withdrawing: in scores, in hundreds, and as a horde thousands strong. They will follow their prince (and their king, as an afterthought) to the ends of the earth if need be, and Saedhruin will go with them.

Eithruin, though--- Eithruin has found a home where she had not looked for one, a place to call her own. He does not worry for her, save sorrow at the parting, for he knows she will not falter or fail. They have both of them chosen their own roads, and they will each hold fast.

The brilliant light behind them flares ever more beautiful as the gold and the silver shine together, and their long shadows dance in the calm rippling waves. At Mingling, when the Trees together are at their dimmest, the stars just barely visible in the sky far over the water can be seen the best. They watch them twinkle, for long minutes.

It is banishment he walks into, for he is not blind. There will be no return to Tirion until the Valar deign to pardon their lord, and even then Saedhruin doubts their anger will allow their easy return to life as it had been. He doubts he will ever see Tirion again as he knows it, the peaceful city on the green hill of Túna.

At last Eithruin sighs and pulls herself to her feet, brushing the soft clinging sand from her clean tunic. The tunic is a bright blue, as many in the city have begun wearing openly in support. Saedhruin still wears the old tunic their mother had given him for his coming of age. It is red of course, as many now leaving the city have been wearing for centuries. They look at each other, and they cannot help but laugh.

He steps forward, and she throws her arms around him, and they embrance fiercely. Behind them, Telperion is slowly growing in strength even as Laurelin wans, throwing long rays of glittering light out over the Sea.

They part there, though both return to Tirion. She to her home to sleep, and he to his to pack. In three days’ time, the Fёanorian quarter will march to Formenos.

#sindarin names because i have Still Not found a quenya name for saedhruin that i like #for one the name sadhruin barely means anything #i made it up and did not consult a dictionary until after the fact #*saedhruin #its vaguely wisdom and fiery red smashed together but the dh belong to no word #and for two i don't even think his quenya name would even be a direct translation of it if it HAD one #i think saedhruin was the name he got in middle-earth and it just stuck #lícumatan is quenya though! #it means candle-maker #yes im hilarious #lotro #saedhruin #eithruin #eithruin's characterization is *waves hands* because i... haven't actually written her pre-darkening before #who knew #salt and light