Hyellnassë: The Glass Thorn – Ch14b: On the Brink (revised)

by Dec 8, 2005Stories

Disclaimer: I don’t own Middle Earth or any of Tolkien’s creations and I’m not making any money.

Names/Pronunciations/Misc will come at the end of each chapter.

`*’ signals a footnote
“text” signals dialogue
‘text’ signals thoughts


As you all know, it has been quite some time since my last post. There were two reasons for this. First, that real life sucks. Second, that I was in something of a pickle as to deciding what the future of this story should be.

Some of you may be oblivious to the flurry of discussion that has been stirred up after my last post (Ch18: The Turning Point of Joy). If so, you probably thought everything was fine and dandy with the story. If not, you were probably involved in the discussion yourself. Across the two sites that I post this story on I know for a fact that Lalaith-Elerrina, Midenian_Scholar, HobbitKim, True2Tolkien, and Nyeren know what I’m talking about. The following is a discussion of some of the issues brought up through reviews and e-mails as well as what those issues mean for this story in the future.

On review of all the comments I have decided to split up my discussion in terms of things I regret and things I do not regret:

Things I Regret:

1.) Not being as clear as I could have been about Kallindo’s regard for Calina.

I like to think that Kallindo fell in love with Calina long before he realized it. I never stated that he was falling in love, but I hoped that I didn’t have to. However, some people didn’t see that in Kallindo. As a self-respecting former competitive debater I must now accept the fact that, if my audience did not come to understand one of my key points, I must not have communicated effectively. I’m not saying that I should have put the words “I love you,” into Kallindo’s mouth at some point before the wedding. But I do agree with something True2Tolkien said: he could have at least expressed to Calina that she was special to him and that he cared for her above any other friend. This was probably the most practical and reasonable suggestion that I received, and after I read it I had to wonder how in the world I hadn’t thought of it originally.

2.) Bringing in as much physical sappiness as I did.

I do not believe that all the physical intimacy was misplaced (more on that later), but in the last chapter I added a little more mush than was necessary because I wanted to have a pay-off for all the angst. If you accepted that Kallindo’s love was true and that their marriage was legit then I’m sure you thought it was a lovely chapter. But if you were already feeling uncomfortable about the marriage then I’m sure that the physicality offended your sensibilities even further.

Things I Do Not Regret:

1.) The essential idea behind the story.

I must admit, after re-reading and thinking over my story that I may not have executed my plan as well as I had hoped to. I had hoped to finish the story sooner, my life was hectic, and I was desperately trying to wrap things up toward the end. In my attempt to do so I may not have handled the situation with as much care as it warranted.

What was the essential idea you ask?: Love can grow from friendship, trust, and affection, even when it has to be built instead of being spontaneously acquired.

2.) The introduction of physical intimacy.

There were two instances of physical intimacy that I feel are important and befitting to the story:

Their first kiss comes about because Calina is worried over whether or not Kallindo finds her physically appealing. I think this issue needed to be raised. You can’t have a real marriage without some sort of intimacy. Calina needed to know that Kallindo could truly view her as his wife, and Kallindo’s admission of his attraction was perfectly appropriate under the circumstances. Indeed, the fact that he found her attractive was perfectly appropriate under the circumstances, because if he did not he would not be have been able to be a husband to her.

The consummation of their marriage was, as I understand Elven marriages, crucial in actually forming the bond between them as man (elf?) and wife. In short, I believe that once K and C decided to wed they also decided to share a bed. This act should not be thought of as either casual or impulsive or forced. I see it as a natural and inevitable conclusion of their choice to be married.

3.) My premise on Elven love

The premise was that it is very rare, though not impossible, for an elf to love more than once. I never said it was impossible. But I was playing off a notion that has not only been bandied around in fanfiction, but which could be seen as developing out of an elf’s unusually long and vivid memory. I do not claim that this is what Tolkien wrote of elves, but I am not Tolkien and the rules of the world of my story, ultimately, have to filter through my own thinking.

Some people have taken objection to this idea, and to the circumstances of the story which it has fueled. To those people I can really only respond with the following: if you had a problem with it, intrinsically, you could have mentioned it when it came up in the second chapter. Now that eighteen chapters have come and gone I will pass on a piece of wisdom from my acting instructor: you must accept the given circumstances. It is useless to say “If only the rules had been different,” or “The rules should have been different.” At this point, I am not willing to change the rules. That will have to be for another story. The question is, if you accept the rules, can you understand better why things happened the way they happened?

In Conclusion:

I have decided to start from Chapter 14 and do some revisions. The changes to Chapter 14 (below) are not drastic. We will have to wait and see how much things change as I go along. For those of you who were content with the story up to this point, I have chosen to leave Ch14-18 intact and up on the two sites that I post on. I will therefore begin the revision with what I have titled Chapter 14b.

If you are not yet gorged with information, I have placed two letters below this chapter, which were responses that I wrote to Lalaith and to HobbitKim before I became far too busy and far to befuddled to continue debating the issue. They provide some more details into some of the issues mentioned above.

I will endeavor, in the near future, to personally respond to those who I have neglected to reply to over the last couple months (Midenian_Scholar, Lalaith, Nyeren)

And now, onward…

Chapter 14b.) On the Brink (revised)

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet

– William Butler Yeats

December 5, 210 Fourth Age, Valinor

Recap: Three days since the last chapter. In an attempt to overcome her sorrow, Calina has chosen to return to her apprenticeship with the glass artisan Lady Calamau. Meanwhile, Kallindo has been giving much thought to his present trouble…


Kallindo walked down the cool hallway toward the warm light of the kitchen, but he did not enter it. Leaning instead against the frame of the door, he watched as Alassar – who sat at the table, surrounded by various waxes, oils, and rags – expertly re-strung the viol* cradled in his lap. It was a beautiful instrument; it would make a fine addition to Alassar’s steadily growing collection.

Alassar finished with the last string and set the viol lovingly onto a swatch of velvet on the table.

“Welcome. I’m glad you have returned.”

Kallindo nodded his acknowledgment of the greeting. Two mornings before, his head full of many tangled thoughts, Kallindo had left the city. He had gone before sunrise, leaving Alassar with no word of his departure, or any clue as to when he would return. His feet had taken the Middle Road southward, and by the afternoon of the first day he had found himself in Calina’s small cave, which she had shown him that summer. The crispness of the wintry stone and the hum of the waves below had seemed to clear his mind, but there were still questions that were, as yet, unanswered.

“I’m sorry,” Kallindo finally spoke, entering the kitchen and taking a seat opposite Alassar.

“I’ll forgive you, I suppose,” Alassar murmured with a half-smile.

The two friends stared at one another, then at the table. Kallindo cleared his throat and leaned forward onto his folded arms.

“I’ve made a rather horrendous mess of things, haven’t I?”

A half smile danced across Alassar’s lips as he stood and began to pack his supplies away in a dilapidated leather satchel. When he had finished, he slung the pack over his shoulder and picked up the viol with tender care. Kallindo waited in the kitchen while he went to put the newly acquired instrument in its place among his other treasures in the upper room.

When Alassar returned he sat down across from Kallindo, placed his folded hands on the table before him, and gazed at his friend with a serious air.

“What did you discover while you were away?”

Kallindo screwed his lips up and then relaxed them; brought his hands up on the table and drummed unconsciously with his fingers on the worn wood.

“I think… no – I know… that is, I want to…” Kallindo looked up distractedly and saw how much amusement Alassar was drawing from his current performance. “Oh, hang it all!” he cried, letting his face fall into his hands

Alassar laughed freely as he reached across the table to pull his friend’s hands away from his face.

“Forgive me. It must be a revelation of vast proportions to give you so much trouble in the telling of it.” Alassar suppressed his mirth. “I will be perfectly serious; come, speak. It will not seem so terrible once you have given voice to it.”

Kallindo raised his head and looked morosely at his friend. A moment passed before he corrected his posture, straightened his tunic restlessly, and gave a curt nod toward the beckoning hand of Fate. He took a deep breath, then another. Alassar waited with great expectation.

“If I were to address… only my own wishes and happiness… I would wed Calina.”

A heavy silence followed this declaration. Alassar watched in wonder as his friend’s expression shifted between softness and grim uncertainty.

“I do not wish… to forever live as I have lived. I long to share myself with someone, and as I dwell on thoughts of her, I find more and more that she is someone who I want to share myself with, as I had begun to do through our friendship. She would make me very happy. And if she were my wife, I would try my utmost to make her so. But…”

“Yes,” Alassar prompted gently.

“I still do not think that my offer would be as it ought to be.”

“In what way?”

There was a lengthy pause as Kallindo searched for words that could slip past the pressure in his chest. “How can I ask for her hand when, after two hundred years, I still feel as though I am in shambles?” It was said; the pressure eased somewhat. “I do not cling to my former love, but that does not mean that I have not been blasted. For the first time since crossing to these shores I desire to pursue a maiden’s good opinion, and yet I am held back by the horrible fear that she will actually accept me… only to discover later that I am not fit for anyone. It’s all quite ***ing, really.”

Alassar leaned heavily on the table, tracing the rough grain of the wood with his eyes. The answer seemed plain to him and yet it was hard to express in a plain manner.

“You undervalue yourself, my friend. You were very much in love with Oloriel… I remember. But you let her go; you did not fade. It was beyond my expectations, and that of many others. You have a very strong heart – it is capable of miraculous things, I think. Any lady who has the good fortune to secure your affections should consider herself blessed indeed.”

Kallindo made an incredulous noise in the back of his throat.

“Don’t scoff. You take all the care of the world upon your shoulders and yet leave none for yourself. I suggest that you look briefly to your own interests, and give the lady the chance to do the same. Then, let the decision be made betwixt you, in open confidence, instead of in this single-sided, martyr-like way.”

Kallindo’s brow lowered in contemplation. His initial response was to rail against this depiction of his own conduct, but he knew that there was some sense in it. “That is a thought worthy of some attention, I believe. I will think on it.”

A smile slowly dawned across Alassar’s features. “For once my wise words have been accorded the proper respect. Usually they are written off as the poetic ramblings of a lowly minstrel. But come, enough of this trying subject! Have you yet broken your fast?”

Suddenly desiring the comfort that a quiet, mundane activity would bring, Kallindo acknowledged that he was in need of breakfast. And so, with great alacrity, Alassar hunted up the leftovers from his own repast, which he had taken earlier that morning. After securing the provisions, it was agreed that some fresh, brisk air would be preferable to the enclosed warmth of the kitchen. Donning thick cloaks, the pair headed for the small balcony on the upper floor, ready to brave the cold morning.

Alassar’s home was actually only a small portion of a much larger house. This establishment was built around an inner courtyard over which his small portion of balcony looked out. The youngest member of the family which owned the house, a cheerful youth straining toward his majority, was busy drawing water from the well below when they stepped outside. Greetings were exchanged all around before Kallindo settled himself down to eat his breakfast. The small meal had ended, and the two elves were lounging quietly, wrapped up in their cloaks, before Alassar chose to breach the subject of their previous discourse once more.

“What are you going to do, at present?”

Kallindo loosened his cloak and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on knees. “I am uncertain. I do not feel as though I can simply walk back into Calina’s life. If she were truly in danger I would not hesitate, but I believe I would have heard tell of it. And if she has already begun to put this behind her, who I am to come barging in with my own expectations? I would like to start from the beginning, perhaps have a chance to court her properly, though I’m afraid my skills in that area are rather meager. But I simply do not see where to begin. Does she even desire my intervention? I do not want to press her into a hasty decision.”

Alassar considered the dilemma. “Is there anyone you would trust to give you an honest account of Calina’s state? If you are set against travelling to Fanlítsë, perhaps you could write. The letters from the south should be arriving today or tomorrow, and carriers will be sent southward again soon after.”

“Is there anyone I could trust?” Kallindo questioned the air softly. “Is there anyone who would give a plain answer? I trust Soronhín implicitly, but on this matter I cannot approach him. And I would not want to put Danneniûl in an awkward situation between her own husband and myself… Perhaps Ránendë; she has a quick wit, and a very steady head. She might do. But I do not know how much she has been told.”

Alassar rose to go inside. “Be subtle, if you must, but please do something. If you bottle yourself up again I’m afraid that one day you’ll wander off into the wilderness again and not come home for a few moons at least!”

Kallindo smiled and promised faithfully that, before the sun set, he would do something. With this assurance, Alassar departed to earn some coin giving lessons on the harp to a few elflings that lived in the city.

It was almost noon by the time Alassar returned. A large smile was on his face as he tripped lightly across the threshold of the house. He enjoyed teaching the little ones, he was optimistic about the conclusion of his friend’s troubles, and the journey homeward had provided him with a chance to exchange a few words with a lovely little maiden who had captured his attention recently. The day was turning out quite well. And, to add to the pleasantries, Alassar had, in the pocket of his cloak, a letter addressed to his friend, which came from Fanlítsë. He hoped it would contain something to either cheer Kallindo’s spirits or spur him onward to even more daring actions than he had hitherto considered.

“Kallindo, are you here?” Alassar called out as he divested himself of his cloak and retrieved the letter. A muffled affirmative came from up the stairs.

Alassar took the steps two at a time and soon found Kallindo sitting at his desk, with a blank sheet of paper before him.

Kallindo smiled wanly. “A very short while after you left, Náriël begged me to help her carry some potted bulbs over to her brother’s house. She then found it necessary to vent all her newly acquired gossip upon me over several cups of tea. I am only recently returned. And yet… I have been sitting over this arduous letter for at least five minutes,” Kallindo tapped the paper with the feathered end of his quill, “As you see, I have not even been able to decide upon the salutation.”

“Well then, put it aside and let your brain stew on it a moment. Perhaps this will give you some food for thought.”

Alassar handed the letter over and went to put his harp away. Kallindo took the missive and flipped it over to look at the seal. Recognition of the sender sent a jolt through his entire frame. Of course, Alassar would not have been familiar with it; otherwise, he might not have delivered it in such a blithe manner.

With great trepidation, Kallindo broke the seal and read the contents of the letter. It was short and to the point. After a brief greeting Soronhín informed Kallindo that he was free to return to Fanlítsë. An invitation was also extended for Kallindo to dine with the Regent and his family at the earliest convenience, at which time, Soronhín hoped he could atone for the startling nature of their last encounter.

Kallindo stood up quickly and hurried to gather his things together. Hearing the commotion, Alassar found his friend in the spare room, packing, and questioned him anxiously, as to whether the letter had contained ill news.

“I am summoned back to Fanlítsë,” Kallindo answered him, as he brushed by Alassar and made for the stairwell.

“For what purpose?” Alassar asked, hurrying after him.

“Soronhín says I may come home. I do not know what has happened, but do not doubt that it somehow concerns Calina.” Kallindo paused at the doorway to the street and turned back to his friend. “Alassar…” His faced betrayed his anxiety as he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I know, do not distress yourself. I am certain that all will be well. Truly it will. May Eru* himself watch over your journey.” Kallindo was already out of the door and well on his way when Alassar called after him: “Your horse is still stabled with Séregon!”

Kallindo turned even while his feet continued moving him down the street. “Yes, thank you. Thank you, Alassar.”

Alassar watched at the doorway until his friend had disappeared between the houses of stone. “Yes,” he whispered, “go get thee a wife.” Then, with a chuckle, he lifted his eyes in supplication and turned back into his house.


Danneniûl had hardly put a foot across her threshold before Soronhín came to meet her, questioning her silently as he divested her of her winter cloak and took her cool hands into his own large, warm ones. Danneniûl graced her husband with an affectionate smile, but slowly withdrew her hands to bend over and take off her boots.

“No, no,” Soronhín chided softly, leading his wife gently, though inexorably, toward a cozy room down the wide hallway. He put aside the curiosity and unease that had been building in him all that afternoon, and focused for a few moments on pampering his wife. He sat her down by the fire and put a thick wrap around her shoulders, filled a mug of hot cider for her from a pot that hung simmering over the flames, and then knelt before her to remove her boots.

Danneniûl laughed gaily at the last touch and leant to place a kiss on the top of Soronhín’s head. “Thank you, my heart. It is bitterly cold outside, and the wind blows something terrible, but I am sure that this will soon revive me.”

Soronhín smiled up at his wife. The boots dealt with, he settled himself at her feet, back resting against the base of the low couch which Danneniûl sat upon. She reached out and smoothed his silver hair.

“What was troubling you?”

“You were not here when I came home.”

Danneniûl smiled softly. “I had to attend to a small dispute in Maivellë while you were gone. A rather spirited horse broke himself out of his fence and did some damage around the town. Some were afraid that the snow coming would hide all of the evidence for some time and they were not willing to be patient.”

Soronhín nodded softly. “Did they accept your judgement?”

“They did,” Danneniûl replied simply.

“I am glad you are home now,” Soronhín said some moments later. “The house was very quiet.”

“Falas is spending the night with Hravan and his family.”

“I know. But it is strange to not have any of the children in the house.”

Danneniûl hesitated before turning the conversation toward she whom they were both thinking of. “Do you think she will be alright?”

Soronhín turned himself so that he could comfortably rest his head against his wife’s knee. He closed his eyes as she took up stroking his hair.

“I do not know,” he finally breathed. “I cannot tell what the end of this will be. I am frightened for her.”

Danneniûl stared bleakly into the fire, her heart heavy with sorrow for her suffering child.

“What has happened?”

Soronhín and Danneniûl both started at the unexpected interruption of their solitude.

“Kallindo!” The name leapt from Soronhín’s lips as he stood to greet his friend. “So soon you have come. Come in, come in.”

Kallindo stepped further into the room but did not remove his cloak or take a seat. “What has happened? Why did you call me back?”

Soronhín was puzzled by the urgency in Kallindo’s voice, but he knew that the elf did care for his daughter, and was doubtless very curious about the unexpected summons.

“Please, Kallindo, sit. I shall answer all your questions.”

Taking a chair mechanically, Kallindo leaned forward with an expectant air. “Where is Calina?”

“She is gone. She left this morning to return to Lady Calamau.”

Kallindo stilled, leaned back into the chair somewhat, a little deflated. “She is alright?”

Soronhín and Danneniûl could not help but reveal their discomfort at the question. Kallindo easily understood the quick look that passed between them.

“Is she alright?”

Danneniûl gave a non-committal shake of her head. “She is not fading, but she is… not herself.”

Soronhín interjected before Kallindo could reply. “She asked me to allow you to return home. It has always been very important to her that you should not be driven from this place. She has gone away, and hopes to distract herself with her craft.

“That will do little good,” Kallindo replied wryly, thinking back to his own days of mourning.

“What would you have us do?” Soronhín questioned tightly, his frustration, anxiety, and remorse seeping out in bitterness. “I could not deny her.”

Kallindo captured Soronhín’s gaze and the two elves stood motionless, tussling over unspoken words.

What would you have me do?, Kallindo’s eyes seemed to say.

Soronhín’s mind was riddled with doubt and worry. He couldn’t seem to help his daughter and felt mired down in his own powerlessness.

I do not know! Soronhín turned quickly and left the room, afraid of doing more damage by trying to meddle with the situation, and equally afraid of his ever increasing desire to meddle.

Kallindo did not pay heed to his friend’s departure. He turned back to Danneniûl and asked of her the same question: “What would you have me do? I know the pain and the doubt and the numbness of time that Calina will endure. What would you have of me?

Danneniûl searched Kallindo’s face for several minutes. Her voice was dry in her throat when she finally spoke: “Can you love my daughter?”

The pounding of Kallindo’s heart was thick in his ears as he replied steadily: “I will try to love her as she deserves… I would do anything….”

Rising hastily, Danneniûl stepped up to Kallindo and held his face in her hands, cutting off his words as she pulled his head down to place a kiss on his brow. “Bring her back to me if you can. Bring her home.”

Kallindo nodded dazedly. He could not find any words to speak.

“Go,” Danneniûl whispered into his ear, “She needs you now.”

Kallindo’s horse was splashing back across through the icy water of the Ford before Kallindo himself was quite aware of where he was and how he had arrived there. His horse’s coat was flecked with sweat. In his carelessness, Kallindo had ridden quite hard, not sparing his mount. Now that he had regained his senses, Kallindo knew that he must pace his journey.

Coming at a walk to the branch in the road, Kallindo turned his horse to follow the way that ran parallel to the mountains. The other path, which veered off in a westerly direction, led toward Alassar’s city. The one he now took led through several smaller towns and then onward toward Tármírë, the principal city of the province of Eccaianórië.

As he urged his horse into a trot, Kallindo calculated that, if he rode diligently and did not tarry long to rest, he had a small chance of reaching Calina before she made it to the city. He hoped that he would indeed overtake her before Tármírë, as a city-full of elves would make it difficult to meet with Calina alone. He still was not exactly certain how such an interview would proceed, but for the first time in months he felt easy with not knowing. Something would come to him… something had to come to him. There was no turning back.


A few miles back, the road had been transformed from a well-trodden dirt path into an even, stone-paved avenue, flanked by trees that in the spring were no doubt ladened with blossoms. But the trees were bare now, stark against the pale colors of the winter sunset. The wind had whipped itself into a hurried dance earlier that afternoon and at whiles fat, overly hasty snowflakes twirled recklessly down in its grasp.

Calina knew that she was not far from the city, but she felt dull and weary. And the cold was not nearly so daunting to her as the thought of passing through the gates and being forced to speak and to explain and to pretend to listen. Bringing her horse to a halt, Calina slipped down and led the way toward a particularly gnarled old tree. On impulse, she climbed into the low, fat branches, and curled up against the bole of the tree.

`Just a few minutes,’ she promised herself. A few minutes to let her limbs and eyes and heart rest.

It was some while later when Calina began to discern the clop of hoof on stone. But her mind was caught halfway between worlds and she paid the sound no heed. It was only when a hand touched her brow, sweeping her hair away from her face, that her perceptions came into focus.

A startled gasp escaped Calina’s throat and no word or sound would follow it. A hand was extended to her, but she could neither refuse it nor take it. No thought or gesture seemed appropriate to the agonozing moment.

The elf before her gazed at her with worry, beckoned her to come down, then finally slid an arm around her back to take her from the tree’s embrace. When her feet touched the ground Calina finally remembered how to move. Stumbling away from the elf, Calina leaned against the trunk of a neighboring tree, then slid down to rest at its base.


Kallindo knelt down before her, saying something inconsequential about how cold she was. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“What are you doing here?”

Kallindo took off his own cloak and covered her with it. “I’ve come to take you home.”

Calina shrugged the extra cloak away, tried to give it back to him. “I am not going back to my father’s house. I am going to the city, to Lady Calamau. I cannot go back.”

To Kallindo it seemed as though the whole world held its breath as he stood upon the brink. Dare he make his declaration? Was there enough courage in his whole being, scraped together and held fast in his good heart, to fill a few small words with such deep intent?

“Then I will not speak of your father’s house,” he began, his voice shallow, faltering. “But will you let me speak of my home, of our home-“

A weary sob scraped out of Calina as she clambered away from him. “Do not speak these words! Do not give me more than what your true feelings dictate, I could not bear it, I do not want it. I promised myself that I would take as much as you would give me. So please, spare me. Do not ask… do not give me that!”

Kallindo followed Calina, dropped down beside her, and drew her into his arms, holding her fast. How could he explain to her what was inside of him? How could he make her believe that this was what he wanted, what he desired? It would take time, patience, and many reassurances. But he could not bear to leave Calina as she was for one moment longer than was necessary – it would have to begin now.

“I do care for nothing in the world so well as you.”

Calina froze in his embrace, though she trembled. Her lips opened but she could not, or would not speak.

Kallindo pressed on, his heart quaking: “You have stubbornly inhabited my thoughts since the day I met you. I do not attempt to know what that means, but you are there and I cannot pluck you out. And I do not wish to. I have so much to learn, but if- if you could find it in yourself to be patient with me… what I am trying to say… Calina…”

Kallindo drew her more closely against him, whispered against her hair: “It would be my joy and honor to be your husband. Will you have me?

At these few, simple words, Calina collapsed in his arms and wept, burying her face against his chest and trying to bury the pounding of her own heart. After several moments her tears became mixed with laughter, but it was a difficult mixture, which caused her chest to hurt and her hands to trembled more forcefully.

Kallindo reached over to where his cloak had been left against the cold ground and drew it around the both of them. He searched for words that would bring comfort, but for lack of them simply held her securely, striving to keep his own breath steady as a guide for her, though he felt on the verge of laughter or tears himself.

It was some time before Calina gained a semblance of composure. When she did, her hands sought out one of Kallindo’s own. Bringing it to her lips, she laid a kiss against it.

“Yes,” she whispered, “Yes, and yes.”


1. Here’s a good picture of the type of viol I imagine Alassar might use: https://www.s-hamilton.k12.ia.us/antiqua/t_viol.htm
2. Eru: “The One.” The creator of the Valar… and, basically, everything else.

Things to Know:

Q: Quenya
S: Sindarin

Calina: Q. “illuminated”
Kallindo: Q. “noble heart”
Alassar: “joy stone”
Soronhín: Q. “eagle child”
Danneniûl: S. “fallen embers”
Falas: S. “beach, shore”
Hravan: “wild one”
Oiratinwë Calamau: Q. “eternal spark/light hands”

Eccaianórië: Q. “outer sea region”
Maivellë : Q. “little gull”
Tármírë: Q. “lofty jewel”
atar/atto: “father/daddy”
amil/ammë: “mother/mommy”



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Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Stories 5 Hyellnassë: The Glass Thorn – Ch14b: On the Brink (revised)

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