Dawn

Canon-compliant.  The first dawn of Anar and the first dawn of a new life.  Quenya names used (Fingon = Findekáno, Turgon = Turukáno (I used Turno as a nickname, but it's from my dA family and not technically grammatically correct, but I don't care), Maedhros = Maitimo and Fëanor = Fëanáro).  Also, I believe that while Elves may value the light of Telperion over Laurelin, they can still appreciate the beauty of both heavenly vessels.  Set at the very end of the Years of the Trees or possibly the first year of the First Age.  In my universe the Battle of the Lammoth can exist after Anar rose.  Somewhat introspective.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the Silmarillion

Pairings: none

Characters: Fingon, Turgon (mentions of Fëanor, Maedhros, random other elves)

Warning: canon-compliant possible slight AU, canon character death and made up character death, orphans, people freezing to death

Song: Nameless Song

Words: 824
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dawn (intransitive verb): to begin to grow light as the sun rises; to begin to appear or develop; to begin to be perceived or understood
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/dawn

Always, Findekáno had been an optimistic person.  He had always believed the best in people, always steadfastly held faith that circumstances would always take a turn for the better if you waited long enough and worked hard enough.  It was how he dealt with life, his most basic natural state of being.

But so long in darkness took a toll even upon his vibrant soul.

Endless days of nothing but blackness and cold, white snow and broken, craggy ice--deadly frozen water beneath--as far as the eye could see would wear down any man's heart.  Everywhere he turned, there was naught but suffering and death, mothers who had lost husbands and sons, fathers who had lost wives and daughters, children who huddled alone because their parents had slipped through the cracks and fallen into the black abyss below, never to be see again.

More so than that were the bodies, the fallen forms lying on the ground, slowly buried until nothing remained by a small lump on the ground, almost indecipherable from the bleak landscape.  They would never be unearthed and neither be buried nor cremated.  Frozen forever in the wasteland that would be their graveyard.

Yet Findekáno tried to persist, tried to remain hopeful that something better awaited them on the other side of this hell.  He knew not how many days--how many years--of starless skies had passed over their heads, but he hoped and prayed that friendship and a luscious world lay waiting on the other side, just as Fëanáro had promised them all.  On the other side, Maitimo awaited.  Adventures and valiant battles to be fought awaited!

He could not give up hope.

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One day, so long after they had taken their first shaky steps upon the ice, he finally saw it, that which he had yearned for so passionately since hearing his uncle's all-encompassing words.

The other side.

Mountains rising jagged and dark overhead and against the sky.  And the sky was clear, clear and blue.  And lightening.  The stars lingered, but with each long, passing moment they seemed to fade more and more, and light seemed to overcome the darkness that had for so long defined Findekáno's world.

But the Two Trees were destroyed.  Their light was destroyed.

How could there be light now?

Moving faster, heart bursting with sheer anticipation, Findekáno found himself nearly running forth, not heeding the cries of his kinsman as he crossed from snow-slicked ground to sturdy rock for the first time in so, so long.  Steady beneath his feet, firm at the foundations.  He climbed upwards frantically, for the light was breaking through the blue, turning golden along the horizon.

And then he turned and saw it.

Against the raging cold waters and the mountain peaks, a vast kaleidoscope of colors burst over the sky, like spilled watercolors mixing together in the wind.  Orange and pink streaked over the lingering clouds, and a vessel of gold and fire rose up from the waves to send light across the desolate land and open water, reflecting so brightly that it almost hurt Findekáno's eyes.  And it was beautiful.  So beautiful.

Gasping and grinning, he turned to find his brother at his shoulder.  Turukáno met his eyes, wonder reflected in the silver depths usually so full of sorrow.  Neither of them had ever seen the likes of this creation, for even Laurelin did not have this affect when she waxed upon the vast green hillsides of Valinor.  Stunned, they watched as the sphere tracked higher into the sky, rising over them and branching out pure warmth into their chilled skin, filling them with heat and thawing the desperation and hopelessness that had frozen into their traitorous hearts on the vast plains of Helcaraxë.

Filling them with a new excitement, with a new hope for something better waiting for them just in the distance.  Their hell had ended.

"We have arrived," Findekáno whispered reverently, his eyes unable to move from the sight of dawning, the dawning of their new life. "Turno, we are here!"

His brother's smile was softer, but it was genuine, and Findekáno's throat closed tightly.  He longed to embrace the other, but held himself back as his younger brother nodded and let out a long, wearied sigh. "We have," he agreed. "We are here."

Slowly, the wash of colors faded into brilliant blue stretching across the dome of the sky, broken by only white clouds and the warmed wind against their face.  As they watched, breathless, the younger elf pressed against his shoulder, and they stood side by side, sharing the newfound warmth and hope kindled in their spirits.

From here they would go forth, and to what end Findekáno could not say.

But he was ready.  Life awaited below in the world of light.
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Short and sweet.

I know supposedly the Elves thought the coming of Anar was more a symbol of the Secondborn (Men), but I believe that the exiles just arriving from a frozen wasteland where there was nothing but cold and dark would appreciate the light and warmth of the sun, regardless of whether or not it awakened the Aftercomers.  The snobby Sindar can whine all they want :P.

The song for today I chose because for some reason it's grace and sweetness just reminded me of watching the sun rise.  It's soft and slow, but at the same time has that same sort of momentum, unhurried but undeniably present.  Not to mention it's beautiful, and who doesn't like that?  So: Nameless Song by Motoi Sakuraba from the Dark Souls OST.

And the picture that inspired the description: The First Dawn of the Sun by Ted Nasmith.  I found it originally on the Tolkien Gateway, but this picture has better resolution.  And look at those colors!  They're just to die for!