Quendilindalë (The Song of the Elves) [Tolkien Elf FanFic - Age of the Stars]

Roaming

The road was long, and all the Quendi travelled together so it was also very slow. They followed the lakeshore away from the river and for a time the eaves of the forest pressed close to them, but they eventually opened up to a land of grasses and rolling hills. Tindómiel and Lómion were allowed to walk near Father Tata in the front of their group, which insolated them from most of the lewd comments. Once the other Quendi had processed their shock at the sudden union, the new couple had been the butt of many inappropriate jokes. At times of rest, Tindómiel and Lómion stole away alone to the lake to bathe away the weariness of their feet in the wholesome waters and to share private words.

It had not entered her mind what a test kindling their union on the eve of long travel would be. They had barely any time not in the company of others, and she relished their whispers and stolen kisses while watching the stars glint in the lake. At times the chill wind blew and they sat huddled under furs together. Those were the worst and best times. She loved being so close to Lómion, the warmth filling her nose with his sweet, pine scent, almost being able to hear his heartbeat, but it was also torture because she could not touch him the way her faer was begging her to.

When they were still near the forest, some of the the Quendi had wandered away from the group during rest, she guessed it was for this purpose. The Quendi were a private people, Tindómiel firecely so, the whispers of the inya fueling her further. Although she desperately wanted to, she had not worked up the nerve to follow their lead, and Lómion did not push her. Out on the grassy plain, she rued her decision. Each glance, each feather-light touch stoked a fire within her that could not be quenched. It was truly unbearable. Lómion seemed to be enjoying her frustration. She guessed that this was her atonement for keeping him waiting for so long.

---

During their long stay near Tindómiel's awakening place, it seemed that some of the Quendi had chosen to beget children, likely thinking they wouldn't move again as their group was quite large. As they travelled, Tindómiel watched as a few of the inya's bellies began to round with child. One of them was Tatië, which puzzled her. Surely one of the Father's wives would know their wandering had not ceased? Perhaps this meant that it would cease soon, or that maybe their tribe was not destined to grow via any newly awakened Quendi. The Fathers seemed to be foresighted in such matters.

Tindómiel watched Tatïe and Tata by the fire when they stopped, Tata's hands on Tatïe's slightly rounded belly and his face alight, "Yes! I can hear his song! We are being given a son!" Tatïe cried out in surprise at the fiercenss of Tata's embrace. Tindómiel pressed into Lómion's shoulder and sighed, causing him to tighten his arm around her, but he said nothing.

As joyous as it was having so many of the tribe being given children, it greatly slowed their pace. Growing children seemed to drain a lot of strength from the inya and even seemed to affect the hanwa, who were working hard to send their wives the strength of their faer. Tindómiel could hear the faint muffling of the wives' songs and the dimming of their glow, but their wombs grew brighter, luminescing through their gowns in the dim starlight. Tindómiel was fascinated by the process of begetting children after seeing how it was changing the inya, and wondered if that dimming was permanent, or if birthing the child gave the inya's faer back its former strength. Either way, she expected to be needed as a healer when the time came.

---

Eventually, their travels brought them to a place where the shore of Cuivénen bore away from them towards the east and the hills opened wide in front of them. The Fathers had gathered together at the front of the group to decide their course. During their hushed discourse, the children rested in almost silence sitting in the fragrant grass of the field.

Tindómiel was standing in Lómion's arms, looking out over the lake, fearing to leave the simple beauty of the stars reflecting in its still waters when a sound touched her ears. She listened closely and realized it wasn't her ears at all, she was hearing it with her faer as she heard the music. The sound irresistably drew her north. She silently left Lómion's grasp, leaving him puzzled in her wake. She could hear his whispered calling of her name growing frantic as she steadfastly walked further from the group. His whispers became cries as he began to gave chase, not knowing what drew her away.

This commotion roused the Fathers from their council. They stared at the two Quendi who had split off from the group, most unwisely. Lómion reached her just as she was cresting the hill, they saw together in the valley what had called her. There was a large group of Quendi there, singing without words. She glanced over her shoulder at the fathers, "tulielto! hyá!"

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Quenya:

tulielto! hyá!: They have come! Here, by us!