Cuiviénen

Disclaimer: Middle-earth, Aman, and all their inhabitants belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his estateI am making no money from this, and intend no infringment of copyright.

Summary: All stories have a beginning.

Rating: K.

Thanks to Isis for betaing this.

Reviews are pretty things and make me very happy.

The mountain rises, darkness upon darkness.

Branches twine, one upon another, withered by the cold North wind, a tangled thicket of bramble cables to defy the wits of the world.

A bitter tang is in the air, wild and free; far off, the waves hurl and crash. The world’s head is crowned with silver foam. Storm-wracked, bleached branches claw the land, ash-grey fingers clinging to rocks worn smooth by time and the passage of the years.

The brambles stir. The breeze changes.

A sighing whisper of motion; the careless grace of slender fingers curling with the languor of sleep.

The air smells of spring and silence.

A breath.