The lost work of Fëanor (part 2) - The secret of the silmarils
Rithyim smiled, and kissed his forehead. "Tenna'ento lye omenta, namarie." Legolas turned, and bid farewell to Elladan, and out of Imladris the forth went. After they had been riding for a time in silence Rithyim began to sing a lay of long ago
"I cannot see what blooms
Lie upon the branches before me,
That in this midnight deep doth
Shadow the bright Star before me,
Guardian of the secret known
Place in that bright Silmaril alon,
Wrought by elf, not dwaewen fire
Set in sway by his desire,
Set in the night as guiding star,
Not near, and not so very far
That I cannot hope to see the hue,
That came alive
Her song trailed off, and Legolas looked at her fair face. "The silmaril," he said, "and yet Fëanor made many other treasures too. The seeing stones of Westerness were wrought by his hand, and as the Silmrils that gift will bring great sorrow. Yet Fëanor made many other thing too.
Weaponry was wrought by his hand, and gems alike to naught beheld before them. But now a great treasure has been found." Legolas looked at Rithyim with an expression of intreague and grim apriciation. "The craft of Fëanor made many envious, and none could replicate his hand. Yet the secret of the silmarils is close to being discovered, and no one knows what that deed would decree, save that it shall greatly change our world, for at the end of time, and only then, so it is said shall this secret be revealed; the old powers of the elves are needed once more, to save all lands from this deed."
Rithyim now knew what task lay before her.