The Last Elf Queen of Arda

Chapter 19 - Sun and Moon

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The elf-city of Emyn Duir was in a state of humming anticipation. Everywhere its folk went about their business with a sense of urgency, as if trying to finish their daily obligations early. Some shops and businesses even hung signs written in flowing Tengwar script declaring that they would be closed after midday. Such was always the case whenever the astronomers announced the coming of a solar eclipse.

Being a people very much in love with the movements of celestial bodies, all elves tended to treat such events as major holidays. There would be much feasting and merry-making that evening once the eclipse had passed, and already long tables were being arranged in the forest beyond the city gates. That afternoon though, all activity in Emyn Duir would cease as every gaze turned to the sky.

Anthelísse arose with the dawn and broke her fast on the balcony of her apartments with Aislinn, as was her habit each morning. After leaving Aislinn to join the organizers of that night's revelries, Anthelísse made for the libraries of Emyn Duir. She had been working on a project there alongside Daerchon, the Master of Words.

Shortly after Iminyë's death four years ago, Anthelísse had taken it upon herself to record the entire history of the Noldor's royal houses for the archives of the Woodland Realm. It was a task that she was sure the late handmaiden would have enjoyed, and so now Anthelísse undertook it in her honor. Daerchon proved to be a helpful if somewhat aloof companion, and often she deferred to him in matters of translation. Not only was Anthelísse transcribing everything in the familiar Tengwar figures used by the Sindarin and Quenyan languages alike, but also in the far wilder and stranger script of the Silvan tongue.

Concentrating proved difficult that morning though; the aura of anticipation that had permeated Emyn Duir was palpable even in the quiet of the library. Anthelísse's eyes kept slipping toward the sundial that stood illuminated in a beam of light nearby. She liked the library, with its towering mahogany shelves and echoing silence. Still there were few places that she would less rather be on that particular day. More than once her shifting and foot-dandling drew a reproachful glance from Daerchon, who was leaning so far over an ancient tome nearby that his long hair brushed the pages.

There was a reason for Anthelísse's restlessness though; she and Thranduil had made plans for a rendezvous that afternoon during the eclipse. The day before, the young king had approached her in the palace entryway and invited her to join him at what he called 'the perfect place' to watch the glowing lamps of Arien and Tilion embrace.

Every minute until then seemed an eternity, even to an immortal elf like Anthelísse. Her swan-feather quill hanging in stasis over the parchment, she tried and failed to set her mind to the task of recording history. Finally the Lady of the Noldor gave up and allowed her mind to wander freely.

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Elsewhere in Emyn Duir, Thranduil found himself similarly preoccupied. Meeting in council with the nobility was proving to be an exercise in tedium; it seemed no one wanted to discuss supply and demand with an eclipse soon upon them. The only one who seemed remotely engaged in the conversation around the table was Tharnor, whose tone became increasingly flinty with each vague response. More than once Queen Nellas had to give Thranduil a subtle nudge under the table to bring him back to the present. He took comfort from the fact that he wasn't the only one so distracted in the room. Even fastidious Maechenel and practical Daeris spoke with less certainty than they might have otherwise.

While listening to the Master of Coin drone on about something regarding the exchange rate of mineral ores, Thranduil felt his mind slipping away to more pleasant subjects. The way Anthelísse's cheeks widened when she smiled, for example. Then of course there was the all-important sound of her voice as she spoke of her family, her plans for the day and the activities of her folk.