Harumi Oanomochi
I am of the Twilight Elves, the Teleri who started on the Great Journey, but stayed in Beleriand, in that which is called Middle Earth, to search for their missing king, Thingol Gray Cloak. She with whom he tarried was the Maia, Melian, who did wed Thingol and set a girdle of enchantment to encircle the land called Doriath. There they and their people dwelt in safety.
Now Thingol, as we of the Sindar call him, was no other than that fair brother of the great king, Olwe, and Thingol's name was Elwe. They had a younger brother, Elmo, who ruled no kingdom, but lived among the Sindar in Beleriand. And it was Elmo's daughter, Lindariel, sister to Galadhon and Galathiel, sons of Elmo, who bore my father, Mithnim, which is to say, "Pale Mist." For when she saw the babe, with his shock of pure white hair, the Lady Lindariel did exclaim, "He is like unto the pale mists that grace the hills with beauty of a summer's morn!"
Mithnim's father, Menelin, was a poet and bard of some repute in Doriath, and the son did follow his sire in the love of words and the crafting of lays and odes. Mithnim was gifted, as are all Sindar, in the musical arts, and as he grew acquired renown with his quick wit, silvery tenor voice that brought tears to the eyes of they who heard it, and with an ancient harp built by the hands of the Maia, Elenang, which is to say "star iron." Star Iron's harp is sweet and gentle, for these hands have played and loved it.
So it is that the lays, poems, and songs of Mithnim Talagan (harper) are known and loved by the Sindar people; yea they have spread throughout Middle Earth unto the very halls of Rivendell, Lothlorien, and the far reaches of Gondor and Rohan in the kingdoms of men.
It was in Doriath, at the Court of Thingol and Melian, that my father first laid eyes upon she who would become his bride, the Lady Niphredil, who served Queen Melian. Niphredil is the Sindar name for the snowdrop, that pure white flower which first braves the crusts of frozen spring to bloom, gleaming in the sun, and it was for her uncharacteristic white hair, so long it did trail behind her like the hem of her gowns, that she was so named. The Sindar most often have darker hair, and indeed the name Sindar means grey elves, given us by the Noldar, but we call ourselves simply Edhel--elves.
One night, as my father sang a favorite song, a voice of pure gold joined him, and he searched the crowd until he saw her, crowned in her moonlit mantle of silvery hair, singing as one enchanted. Her green eyes glistened like emeralds, and he was drawn to her, making his way through the delighted elven lords and ladies to her side, from which he rarely strayed again.
Twin boys were born to them, but only one, my brother, Tuilinn, survived infancy. Platinum-haired, azure-eyed, Tuilinn was a tall and mighty elf, destined to become a warrior. Indeed, he fell in the great Battle of Helm's Deep, next to his true friend, Legolas, son of Thranduil.
After the grief of losing their only child, my parents spent their woe in crafting some of the most compelling and bittersweet ballads ever sung, yet even at her advanced age, in the Third Age, my mother found herself once more with child. I was born one bright spring morn when the buds were about to burst forth in all their glory. They named me Echuirbaneth, which is to say, "Springtime Beauty," and I had the frost-white hair of my parents, and my mother's emerald eyes.
Though I often sang with them, and learned to play Ada's (Father's) treasured harp, my inclinations were drawn to green-robed Yavanna, spouse of the Ainur Lord Aule. She who is revered as the Giver of Fruits must have kissed my forehead, claimed my mother, for I ever had a desire to gather herbs, fruits, and mushrooms, and craft them into healing potions, unguents, and pellets that would comfort the ill and injured. And so I became a healer and herbalist, yea even a midwife, for I knew how to ease the suffering of labor and became skilled at bringing Elven children into the world.
When I reached my majority at the age of one hundred forty years as the Atani (men) reckon them, I was invited to bring my healing arts to the forests of Mirkwood, to the lands of the Silven King, Thranduil. It was there that I met the warrior who would become my heartmate, Arafel (Wolfstar).
He was taller than I by a head, though I was thought to be tall for a woman, and when first I set eyes upon him, I noted his broad shoulders and well-muscled form, but it was his silver hair, worn in a topknot braid to the ground, that caught my full gaze. Indeed some said it was the color of mithril, for it flashed white one moment and silver the next as it moved in the light. He was the most handsome Elf I had ever beheld, and indeed when first we met, I nearly fell backwards in a swoon!
Somewhat odd among elvenkind, though more common among the Sindar, Arafel wears the whisper of a short beard and mustache. It makes him appear even more fierce and determined in battle, and I think it enobles his handsome visage, with his square jaw and thick warrior's neck. His eyes are even brighter green than mine, and they sparkle when he grins, which he is wont to do often as he is blessed with a quick wit and a bard's comedic timing. He dances with a flourish, and I always feel as if I'm floating in his arms when we join others on the dance floor.
We married in the winter and lived for a time at the court of King Thranduil, but we were of a restless nature and soon set out to find land of our own. The southern reaches of the Girdle of Melian are bordered by the great River Aros. Where the Aros branches into two tributaries is nestled a forest long abandoned by the Sindar. In the Second Age it was said that a small city of the Sindar was there, but when Arafel and I journied there we found only traces of Elvenkind. By the time we reached this forest I was pregnant and so in the woods, under a small pavilion, I gave birth to our children, a daughter we named Meristrae and a son we named Istarion. Meri was to become like her father, a warrior in soul and design, but her brother is a mage, born with wild magic that left us wondering how in the world to control it! As a newborn he sneezed and turned his uncle orange, and then he hiccupped and encased his father in a huge bubble. Later we were able to send him to a school where he was taught to control his gifts.
We had arrived in the moonlight and named the forest Ithildor (Land of the Moon), and from our humble beginnings, we fashioned and restored the settlement into a haven for elves and other peaceful folk alike. In time, we found ourselves the rulers of a small city, and the forest. Our people insisted upon calling us king and queen, though Arafel eschews the trappings of royalty to a point, claiming that he is merely a warrior. Still, he is an excellent ruler, wise and fair in his dealings, and is in fact a good king. I too prefer to go by my name, without the honorifics of my station, save for when we must don the mithral crowns and hold court or host visiting dignitaries. It is a good life and we find ourselves blessed to have such a fine place to call home.
Along the way we adopted a human girl named Lumana. She is a great joy to us, and she being nearly an adult when we arrived in Ithildor, she got to watch her brother and sister grow up. They will be twenty on their next birthday, and Lumana is a woman in her thirties. We grieve in secret that she will live such a brief life, but we share every day when she is with us as the great gift it is.
Our people gifted us with a grand sailing ship which we called Faen Imilineth, which is to say White Sparrow. Thanks to our son's gifts, it is imbued with magics that let it take to the air like its namesake and fly to safety. In truth, he and his sister took the ship without permission and sailed to a foreign land called Artstonia, for which they were sternly dealt with, but then Istar spelled the ship as a gift of penance, and the twins were forgiven.
One fine day we happened upon the coast of the great sea and somehow managed to find ourselves at the long-fabled lands of my great-uncle, King Olwe -- the land of Alqualonde, Haven of the Swans. It was here that we met our kinsman, who welcomed us with great joy. I was able to help the king in a time of need, and for that now have a home in Alqualonde, much treasured and ever a haven. I look forward to staying with my great-uncle when Arafel must travel abroad or on matters of state. So it is that I have two homes: in my beloved Ithildor and wonderful, serene Alqualonde.
> Echuirbaneth enters the story