Ответное письмо Маэдроса Маглору. A reply letter from Maedhros to Maglor.
Если кто помнит, у меня тут была картинка Сентябрьское письмо Маглора Маэдросу, ненаписанное и неотправленное. Тогда же чуть позже я написала стихотворение-ответ Маэдроса, но это не есть картинка на это стихотворение, - она не подходит по сезону. Поэтому пока я здесь эти стихи не публикую (но думаю запостить в Телеграме (t.me/irchittavritti, там все однозначней русскоязычнее и там я просто больше пишу)), а это сейчас ответное письмо, но другое ответное письмо, ну, мало ли их было. If anyone remembers, here I had a picture of Maglor’s September letter to Maedhros, unwritten and unsent. At the same time, a little later, I wrote a poem-the answer of Maedhros, but this is not a picture for this poem - it does not fit the season. Therefore, while I am not publishing these verses here, so this is now a response letter, but another response letter.
Just a brooding, angsty Maedhros in between battles, stiff from post torture pain and tired from faded adrenaline and bloodlust
includes some of my Himring world building about their winter preparation and communication with the outside I talked about in previous posts!
Winter comes early to Himring as it does each year. The first snowfall dusts the already frozen ground and accumulates in the cracks between stone walls and ledges. The scouts Lord Maedhros sends out leave only the faintest traces of footsteps, easily scattered back to power by the heavy winds.
The winter preparations were completed nigh a fortnight ago, broths of bone boiled and stored, the last of the years’ short bounty of leaves harvested, dried, and crushed, to be used in their ever increasing need of salves and teas for the sick and injured, blankets and winter robes mended and made. Their stores were lower than last year’s and their needs were far greater. Trade could not be prioritized even if Maedhros had allies living in enough prosperity who could easily spare the travel and resources to spare. His men were not unused to hardship or lacking luxury. Not only were some number from the Iron Hell themselves, all who joined him here were not naive about the potential difficulties in these bitter lands. But the fact remained that more demanding work required more resources
The face and features of the Lord of Himring are still more obscured by the heavy arraignments of woolen garments he wears as he awaits the latest report which will land upon his shoulders by the ever early sunset, carried by the speckled eagle of his kin to the Northwest. The snow falls upon what is visible of his red hair, coating it in a dull white. Each speck freezes on its own time upon his pale skin. He is a grim sight in the threshold of the fortress.
The limbs of Maedhros are stiff with pain as they are often. He does not wish for battle, any bloodlust waxing and waning with so many things and he has not seen nor anticipated direct battle in enough time that it has for the moment faded. But the tingling of his fingers hurts far more in contrast to the dull familiar aching of his old chains and it is hard to deny the energy that seems to accompany the spark. A desire for action.
Morgoth, he half wonders with a bitter twinge, does not particularly enjoy the wait either. The thrill of the infliction of terror is surely not enjoyed from so afar. Though fool he is if he thinks himself any particular sage on the mind of their Enemy after only his unfortunate time in His clutches.
With the cold hands of winter winds upon the bare skin he has unwisely left upon his neck he remembers the cold hands of the Black Foe, lifting his hair with a thoughtful mockery of tenderness before sinking ragged nails in, dragging them down to form whatever hellish designs took His fancy. For a moment Maedhros is lost in time and the bitterness of the windchill may only have been his memories. He will not know until he sees faint red upon his skin, causing the scars already there to fade slightly. He knows what he has sought in Himring is an impossible contradiction; to forget and to never forget all at once. To distance himself from the Iron Prisons at their very doorstep.
There will be movement soon. Consumed as they are by this winter, news by way of their kins’ words or their enemies actions will not reach them in good time. But the rest of the world is not condemned to the ever cold that Maedhros has chosen to weather here. The rest of the world goes on with stray soldiers collapsing half dead upon the foot of his feet and torn parchment with blurred writing their primary source of information until this storm passes.
Night slides easily over the quiet lands, the sky bruising from gray to the cloudy darkness of early winter. The bird does not come. Maedhros allows himself to be swallowed by the coming storm.
For the weekly prompts for the @gatesofsummerexchange the ones I was drawn to were summer festivals and green and growing wilderness. I’m thinking more of how I’m going to do the green and growing wild one (any requests or suggestions let me know) but for now, Here are my thoughts for a few summer festivals! I didn’t go through each group or culture so please feel free to send one and I’ll tell my ideas of their summer festivals!
The Midyear Festival of the House of Hador in Dor-lómin:
The one I’ve written about before is the midyear festival held by the Hadorians in Hithlum. Young men and women among their people don’t celebrate their coming of age on their actual birthday but rather in groups during either the summer or winter festival depending on whether their birthday falls before or after the midyear. A potluck style feast is held over a course of several days with lots of dancing, jousting, and horsemanship shows. Summer grasses and wild flowers of the fields are braided into the hair of those coming of age.
Random facts:
Aerin used to perform various horsemanship skills including dismounting from a running horse (usually done as an emergency dismount).
Special crowns of yellow ivy are given to the winners of the games and contests.
Elven wine as well as wine made by the Hadorians are both consumed. There are usually a few elves in attendance, some just incidentally because they were around and some actually travel to attend.
The elven wine is sweeter but stronger. The Hadorian wine has a richer, more oaken taste.
Morwen tends to avoid these because a, lots of people and crowds and noise and b, she doesn’t like the smoke from the several huge bonfires for Reasons. Rían enjoys them though because flowers and dancing and merriment.
The Summer Solstice in Doriath:
This tradition was obviously started after the first rising of the sun but became one of the first new traditions to start after the end of the Year of the Trees. It is held over about a week in the High Summer when (as it was said in canon), Melian and Thingol were often away from Menengroth. During this week the days are at the longest and the shadows of the deep forest seem an eternal green. There aren’t necessarily group celebrations but rather a period of heightened wakefulness and journeying with some returning to favored spots each year and others seeking new ones.
Random Facts:
There aren’t traditional clothing for this festival and many go without clothing because of the heat and because they’re alone and they can.
Swimming holes, waterfalls, and slower stretches of the river are favored locations as are groves and glades.
Fasting is not uncommon though it is by no means required.
There is usually an outbreak of smaller celebrations at the end of this week with a later larger one held when Thingol and Melian return to Menengroth.
Cold drinks from flowers, herbs and nectar are often made in the time leading up to the solstice. These are often colorful and decorated with petals and berries, served in intricate glasses or canteens.
The Summer Readiness Days in the March of Maedhros:
This is another one I’ve spoken about albeit briefly. The March is cold with long winters and short summers. During the longest days of the year there is a celebration, of sorts, where the residents take advantage of the light and leave the few permanent strongholds and temporary stations to gather together at the foot of Himring itself. Inventories are taken, leaves are gathered, stored and prepared for drafts, teas, stews and medicinal substances, fresh meat is served to the group and then is stored for later. Importantly, most of the readiness is not directly related to the war and so these days are somewhat more cheerful though there is always the ever looming knowledge of The Enemy
Random facts:
There is another festival held in the beginning of the winter but this one is more practical as tasks like mending and making blankets, making large batches of stews and teas, etc are best done in groups.
The few children of the March (mostly the children of advisors and captains but a few orphans, strays, or the children of escapees too) have organized games in part to keep them busy. Scavenger hunts and obstacle courses are among the favorites.
Watching a group of the Great Eagles on their course over towards Hithlum is a highlight of this festival
Note: the summer festival of Maedhros’s people is somewhat more grim than the others. This is not to say that the Hadorians or Sindar were naive in any way or had less knowledge of the war or bad priorities or anything like that. They simply cope with the ever present terror differently.
