(Really long and pointless) author's note:
This is the biggest Middle Earth related project I've yet to take up, so you'll excuse me if I say a few words (it makes me feel important and will reduce the possibility of me going after flamers with chainsaws).
This is a Silmarillion-based work, focusing on the characters of Feanor, greatest of the Noldor, and his wife Nerdanel: the relationship between them, how it came to be, and how it went up in smoke. This is also a story about art, artists and the affects of art and artists on society, the people close to them, and themselves.
The character of Feanor as portrayed in this story may differ greatly from those my colleagues have described so excellently in their works. This is my Feanor; we have a lot in common. The focus is on aspects of him that I feel have been somewhat neglected, even by the great Master Tolkien himself, so it should be different, though hopefully not in a negative way.
This story owes its existence mostly to the Silmfics group – not a better place to hang for a good First Age discussion exists on the entire net. It is also dedicated to a number of people:
Firstly, to Deborah, because it was her birthday and I couldn't think up a slash story for her (except Galadriel/Idril, but let's not go there), and because of "A Very Fire".
Also, to Nemis and Oboe-Wan, who demonstrated with the character of Gil- Galad and Celeborn respectively how any footnote could be brought to life.
Thirdly, to the Fanfiction.net Feanorians: Ithilwen (for "Comes the Dawn"), Finch (for "Under the Curse"), Le Chat Noir (for "That Which Shines West"), Alena (for "Long Night") and Cirdan (for "Paradise Lost"). (Hmm, add Deborah and me and it makes seven. One wonders…)
Finally, to Philosopher At Large (let the Vala sort 'em out!).
A final nod to Nemis for translating the story's title. In case you're wondering, it's Quenya for "The Artist's Wife".
Now I'll finally be quiet so you all can get to the story. The first chapter is strange, an experiment in atmosphere, so to say, hope you'll like it.
This is the biggest Middle Earth related project I've yet to take up, so you'll excuse me if I say a few words (it makes me feel important and will reduce the possibility of me going after flamers with chainsaws).
This is a Silmarillion-based work, focusing on the characters of Feanor, greatest of the Noldor, and his wife Nerdanel: the relationship between them, how it came to be, and how it went up in smoke. This is also a story about art, artists and the affects of art and artists on society, the people close to them, and themselves.
The character of Feanor as portrayed in this story may differ greatly from those my colleagues have described so excellently in their works. This is my Feanor; we have a lot in common. The focus is on aspects of him that I feel have been somewhat neglected, even by the great Master Tolkien himself, so it should be different, though hopefully not in a negative way.
This story owes its existence mostly to the Silmfics group – not a better place to hang for a good First Age discussion exists on the entire net. It is also dedicated to a number of people:
Firstly, to Deborah, because it was her birthday and I couldn't think up a slash story for her (except Galadriel/Idril, but let's not go there), and because of "A Very Fire".
Also, to Nemis and Oboe-Wan, who demonstrated with the character of Gil- Galad and Celeborn respectively how any footnote could be brought to life.
Thirdly, to the Fanfiction.net Feanorians: Ithilwen (for "Comes the Dawn"), Finch (for "Under the Curse"), Le Chat Noir (for "That Which Shines West"), Alena (for "Long Night") and Cirdan (for "Paradise Lost"). (Hmm, add Deborah and me and it makes seven. One wonders…)
Finally, to Philosopher At Large (let the Vala sort 'em out!).
A final nod to Nemis for translating the story's title. In case you're wondering, it's Quenya for "The Artist's Wife".
Now I'll finally be quiet so you all can get to the story. The first chapter is strange, an experiment in atmosphere, so to say, hope you'll like it.