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A Festival of Lights
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The Glory of Simple Loves

The Glory of Simple Loves

Hidden from the eyes of most, the Suruli often danced in the glory of the light of Aman, and also among the dark places of the Undying Lands, glimmering in the light of stars, Moon, and Sun upon the waves of the Sea, the tumbling of water in streams, river, brooks, and falls, and the fluttering of leaves in the forests and fields. They peered from under the wings of birds and insects, and from the glimmer of eyes of animals and the flash of fish in water. And thus they added to the light known by those who dwelt in Aman proper and upon Tol Eressëa, many of whom were unaware of these small spirits of light that peopled the air of the place and who brightened the small darknesses one might perceive.

Two of the Children stood in the shadows of the great mellyrn in which refugees from Lothlórien in Middle Earth had made their homes, looking out at a glade in which almost transparent butterflies and Suruli had been pleased to dance in the midst of the Light and Breath, and who all seemed to be drawn about an equally shining form, apparently small and delicate, that knelt there, watching their dance with entranced pleasure.

He is almost as a Suruli himself, communicated the taller and brighter of the two.

“Sauron’s slaves had sought to capture him by means of a cursed wound, and so draw them into the very darkness in which they dwelt,” answered that one’s more corporeal son who stood by him. “I was able at last to remove the sliver of the cursed Morgul blade from his shoulder and turn the intent of the spell from darkness to Light once more. But as happened with you, he has become increasingly transparent, with his inner Light of Being, the Imperishable Flame that is at the heart of his fëa being evermore made manifest. He does not as yet appreciate that this is the change he was beginning to perceive in himself ere we sailed here together, and that he is indeed, as Gandalf once perceived of him, becoming as a vessel of Light to be seen only by those with eyes to see that can. He and the one mortal who has been truly as a very son to me are both so filled with the Light beyond what I’ve seen in any other mortal I have ever known since my own brother left me.”

And he is a pherian?

“Their name for themselves is Hobbit. Theirs are simple loves, such as for the land that sustains them and into which they delve their burrow-like homes, for food and drink and family and fellowship.”

Eärendil nodded his shining head. Never undervalue the worth of simple loves, my beloved son, for such bring us the greatest joy and bring us to our finest acts of protection. Now, lead me to him, for I would embrace this one who has shared with me the Becoming, one who still holds the mortality that I foreswore when I accepted the duty to bear aloft the Silmaril that was the brideprice of Lúthien the Fair. Let me honor this Frodo son of Drogo and Bilbo as is worthy of one of the Children of my Spirit.

And as peredhel and the bearer of the remaining Silmaril stepped out in the glory of the glade, the Suruli shone the brighter with their pleasure and satisfaction, and Frodo Baggins rose to bow with awe and wonder in his eyes, filled with surprise to know himself greeted as a son by the one who served as the Star of Hope.

“I will not say that Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell!”


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