“I can’t fault you for being protective of your charge. She must be very precious to you.”
He tried no more to excuse himself; Mitsa knew ultimately where his loyalties lay, and there were no promises he could make for the extended future, should the girl grow and bar his path. He could only hope such a future would not be woven.
Mitsa’s humming stilled his thoughts, seeming to absorb all the noise of the forge until he could hear his own heart beating in his ears. The crystals glowed a greenish hue– easily correctable with a color filter, he thought. The light grew and did not fade, illuminating the stage where samples could be placed.
As he was offered the instrument he grinned broad and beaming. “I’d be delighted. Thank you,” he leaned close to the eyepiece.
“Well, it certainly glows,” he chuckled, “but there’s not much to see yet. I’ll fetch that steel in a moment, but first…” Sauron ducked his head and exhaled a warm puff of breath over the glass plate, fogging it. He touched the plate with one finger, brow knitting in concentration. He hadn’t attempted this trick in a long time– it was counter to his nature, or rather, a reversal of it. The ambient temperature dropped around the work station, though the bronze skin of his hand glowed and began to steam and drip. He watched until ice crystals began to form on the glass, then eagerly returned to the microscope lens, adjusting the focus.
“There we are. Some of Melkor’s fine work,” he purred, pleased with himself. “Look at that. Sixfold symmetry. Natural fractals. Beautiful.” He was almost loathe to look away, but the heat of the forge made short work of the ice and moisture.
The smaller Maia fell silent, something darkening behind his eyes as he watched Sauron focusing to do something that for him came so easily. Was he so different from a true Aulendur even doing the same tasks?
“Would it be blasphemy in your house if I argued frost does not belong to your master alone?”
Mitsanár
asked as he bent close to huff more fog on the mirror. His hand almost danced around the glass as he stole away its heat into his fingers, letting it disperse up his arm. His version was much more subtle; there was no ambient chill, no glow to mark his theft, just a quiet drain.
Like palming a jewel.
“You and I can craft it too,” he continued, “with some effort. And those in the sea have an easier time of it.” He left Sauron to continue looking through the eyepiece if he wished and pushed himself up on the table so he was sitting next to the device. “But it is beautiful despite its source. Storm’s going to love this,” he added, eyeing the green light it gave off. “…Although I think it would be easier for her to work if we had a light source that did not require a song…”
Ah well. He could teach Mitsalaume to sing, or if all else failed sing for her. So long as she was happy he couldn’t much care which it was.
Mitsanár sighed and reached for his box. He dug out a few sheets of vellum, shook them free of the hay he’d packed the box with, and offered them as a roll. “The blueprints. I’d honestly expected I’d have to bribe you with these to get your help. Or make off with your toolbox,” he said lightly, although whether he was joking or not it was difficult to tell.
“I don’t believe in blasphemy… least of all towards Melkor,” Sauron replied wistfully. “To blaspheme requires the existence an authority one cannot question or renounce… He would have hated that. But it is true that ice was a child of his thought, in the beginning. Before that, water did not change states; it was considered a perfect, immutable entity. You can imagine what a disaster it would have been if that idea had made it through to the final draft of Arda.” He laughed and snorted, still bent over the lens of the microscope, watching the feathers of ice grow.
“….You’re much better at that than I,” he remarked. “And to think, I was trying to impress you with my little trick!” He clucked his tongue in acknowledgement of superior talent. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that your Song is so flexible; you’re rather unique as a disciple of Aulë, aren’t you?”
His brows raised in faint alarm as Mitsa handed over the schematics of his device. “Did you? It seemed like you barged into my forge knowing exactly what you wanted and expecting to get it!” He grinned lopsidedly, accepting the prints with gusto. “Oh, but these are a delight! Thank you, little ruby. But you should know I am always at your service. There is no need to ransom my hardware.”
“It was Laumë who contacted me, actually,” Sauron said, scratched his beard idly. “I was quite as surprised as anyone. She wished for my help restoring a rare artifact she’d found. Very precocious!” He laughed, then sobered quickly.
“Mitsa, I understand this puts you in a precarious position, but I must ask you to keep our correspondence to yourself. She wrote to me in confidence; Ossë does not know, and I expect she would be mortified if he found out.”
Noting the difficulty his guest was having with the quartz, he went unbidden to a wall of small, catalogued drawers set into the back of his workroom. He plucked a few specimens from their containers carefully while Mitsa spoke, and something he said made Sauron startle mid-turn.
“Parent?” he exclaimed, nearly fumbling his armful of crystals. “I– Oh! Forgive me, I assumed– but, Uinen, surely…?” He shook his head rapidly to clear it, blinking. “Pardon my ignorance, friend. I am clearly not as informed about this situation as I thought! …Here, try fluorite. Should hold and emit a stronger light when Sung to,” he finished as an aside.
Mitsanár couldn’t help but laugh, a rich rolling sound that came out with such intensity that he had to hold onto the counter’s edge lest he fall over. Miraculously he managed to detatch the quartz crystals from his device without dropping them. Their slight glow vanished as soon as he took his hand away.
“I think a few explanations are in order,” he said warmly. “Mitsalaume has three parents: Terror, Pearl, and myself. She takes after her father and mother quite a bit, but I am her mentor and confidant in many matters. I knew of her diving trips, of her growing treasure collection, even of her letters, though I’d no idea who she was writing to before now. Just because I helped her construct a personal journal does not mean I read it.”
He paused, leaning one hip against the counter and twirled a tool absentmindedly between his fingers. “I will say nothing of your letters unless she is ready to admit them, or I find you’ve done her harm. In which case-” he leveled the tool like a sword at Sauron’s chest- “I will grease your forge floors to a mirror polish, fill your chimneys solid with dried corn, misplace all of your dustpans, hide explosives in your quenching trough, and move each and every one of your tools to places most inconvenient for you.”
His mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as he took in the information, shaking his head with an expression both wry and sheepish. “I… should have guessed that,” he grinned in return. “The simplest explanation, and my mind flew clear over it. Of course such a unique child should have a stable of parents to raise her; Mahal preserve you if you try to do it alone.”
Mitsa’s laugh was delightful; a rounder, warmer sound than he was expecting from such a small frame. It distracted him enough that his giddy smile lasted up until there was a dapping punch pointed at his sternum.
“Woah! Easy friend,” he parried the rod away gently with the back of his hand, “I mean her no ill. Do you really think I’d harbor a vendetta against a child?” His brow furrowed pitifully over soulful, lupine eyes. “What threat do you imagine she poses? These days I am on passable terms with the sea folk, I’d do nothing to jeopardize that; and what is more, she considers me her godfather! I’m saddened you think I would harm a fledgling girl who entrusted me with her confidence.”
“HAH! You devil! Let us hope her curiosity is a stronger force then resentment, or you will be out an apprentice!”
The brief mingling of their Songs sent an agreeable shiver through his spine; the little Maia’s song was subtle and harmonious, the perfect accompaniment. The quicksilver cured in seconds aided by the heat of an extra note, and the reversed panes of glass now reflected the pleased face of their maker. Sauron handed Mitsa the finished products, stacked carefully in his gloved hands.
“Diatoms ought to be a treat for her. I’ve always found natural geometry to be especially fascinating, I suspect she will as well. You’d better be certain your device is waterproof! I have a suspicion I know your apprentice after all.”
Mitsanár raised an eyebrow as he took the mirrors carefully, briefly catching a glimpse of his own dark skin and freckles as they tilted. “Thank you. I should be surprised that you’ve met the little raindrop, but I find I’m not,” he mused. “Her father most assuredly will be. Among other things.”
He moved back to his device, sliding one mirror underneath the bottom lens and adjusting its height before he began softly singing to the crystals. A bit of coaxing and they began to glow, shedding a faint, out of focus beam of light on the mirror. He scowled at it and tapped a crystal. “As long as neither of them are hurt I see no harm. I think I need that steel now.”
He straightened, giving up on the quartz before his song took on notes of annoyance. Perhaps a different stone would work better. …But he’d had yet to come across one that held his song as well as clear quartz did. A problem with the facets then?
“… I may need some lapidary advice as well,” he sighed. “As for keeping my apprentice, I am her parent; I know her curiosity better than most. So long as I don’t have her re-tile the floor and replace the kilns brick by brick I think we’ll manage.”
“It was Laumë who contacted me, actually,” Sauron said, scratched his beard idly. “I was quite as surprised as anyone. She wished for my help restoring a rare artifact she’d found. Very precocious!” He laughed, then sobered quickly.
“Mitsa, I understand this puts you in a precarious position, but I must ask you to keep our correspondence to yourself. She wrote to me in confidence; Ossë does not know, and I expect she would be mortified if he found out.”
Noting the difficulty his guest was having with the quartz, he went unbidden to a wall of small, catalogued drawers set into the back of his workroom. He plucked a few specimens from their containers carefully while Mitsa spoke, and something he said made Sauron startle mid-turn.
“Parent?” he exclaimed, nearly fumbling his armful of crystals. “I– Oh! Forgive me, I assumed– but, Uinen, surely…?” He shook his head rapidly to clear it, blinking. “Pardon my ignorance, friend. I am clearly not as informed about this situation as I thought! …Here, try fluorite. Should hold and emit a stronger light when Sung to,” he finished as an aside.
“Ouh? How wonderful. Whoever she is, I sense she has a fine teacher,” he smiled. He’d forgotten how pleasant it was to have a fellow Aulendur in the forge to talk to; it reminded him of far gone, simpler days.
A pool of mercury bubbled lethargically in its ceramic beaker, digesting the shavings of tin and silver he’d stirred in. As a natural process it would take more time than his urgent friend had to spare, so he urged the amalgamation on with a deep, resonating hum that made the glassware buzz and dance on the table.
When the mixture was finished, be brushed it patiently and evenly across the back of the glass circles.
“You must tell me what your apprentice thinks of this magnifier you’ve built. I’d be delighted to know what she discovers.”
“I doubt she’ll think the same of me when I make her clean the workshop by herself for the first time,”
Mitsanár shot back sweetly. “I specifically let the fume hood go to show her what happens when the vent clogs up. She’s going to hate me for weeks.”
He snorted as his hands worked, straightening a lens here, adjusting a dial there, but his eyes kept straying to Sauron’s song-sped work. Subconsciously a song of his own warmed the back of his throat, reaching for the first one’s frequency and cancelling it out, just loud enough to protect the microscope but nothing else.
Oh he’d missed this.
The professionalism was a breath of fresh air, but it was the feeling of multiple Musics creating at once that made him pause and relax, closing his eyes just to take it all in. Mitsanár was almost reluctant to pull himself out of it and return his attention to attaching tiny quartz crystals to his device.
“Of course.” He smiled. “Odds are she’ll be discovering any and everything she can shove under the lens. Sand grains, iron filings, fish scales… Perhaps I should make a more durable model and let her have fun with it.”
“HAH! You devil! Let us hope her curiosity is a stronger force then resentment, or you will be out an apprentice!”
The brief mingling of their Songs sent an agreeable shiver through his spine; the little Maia’s song was subtle and harmonious, the perfect accompaniment. The quicksilver cured in seconds aided by the heat of an extra note, and the reversed panes of glass now reflected the pleased face of their maker. Sauron handed Mitsa the finished products, stacked carefully in his gloved hands.
“Diatoms ought to be a treat for her. I’ve always found natural geometry to be especially fascinating, I suspect she will as well. You’d better be certain your device is waterproof! I have a suspicion I know your apprentice after all.”
He tilts his head, eyes sparking at the hint of intrigue.
“…An elf apprentice, you say? How interesting. Finding elves of a smithing persuasion these days is a rare thing. Do I know her?”
While he speaks he sets about with a compass and a glass cutter, turning a sheet of clear glass into circles small enough to fit inside Mitsanár’s palm.
“I myself have a weakness for teaching… Whoever your student is, I’m sure they will benefit greatly from your experiment. At the very least, it will be a pleasure for you; I know first hand that it is one of the keenest joys to watch the Eruhini discover what is beyond their physical sight– like the matrix of cementite and carbon fibers in this steel, or the formation of oxide crystals.”
“You do not. She is more the tinkering type than smithing, I think, but to repair something it helps to know how it works, no? At the very least she will have the means of answering her own endless questions.”
Mitsanár pauses, fiddling with a few dials and gears as he sets up the microscope proper. One of the biggest problems he’s noticed so far is the lighting; while his apprentice can see in the dark, proper illumination is better for minute details. And his microscope casts an awkward shadow.
“Honestly it was more an issue of trust at first,” he admits. “My apprentice is, well, a child. Calling her curious is like calling a volcano warm. I’d hoped we would have an easier time of things if we were on the same page, if she could see the same things I do in something as mundane as a leaf.”
“Ouh? How wonderful. Whoever she is, I sense she has a fine teacher,” he smiled. He’d forgotten how pleasant it was to have a fellow Aulendur in the forge to talk to; it reminded him of far gone, simpler days.
A pool of mercury bubbled lethargically in its ceramic beaker, digesting the shavings of tin and silver he’d stirred in. As a natural process it would take more time than his urgent friend had to spare, so he urged the amalgamation on with a deep, resonating hum that made the glassware buzz and dance on the table.
When the mixture was finished, be brushed it patiently and evenly across the back of the glass circles.
“You must tell me what your apprentice thinks of this magnifier you’ve built. I’d be delighted to know what she discovers.”
forgemaiar: Curiosity is the project. To elaborate you and I can perceive miniscule imperfections such as the slag content in a bar of steel, but for a more… elven apprentice, the naked eye alone isn’t quite enough.
*opens the box and begins unpacking a crude microscope* I wondered what would happen if she could see carbon nanotubes on her own, but first I need to see if the magnification is strong enough.
He tilts his head, eyes sparking at the hint of intrigue.
“…An elf apprentice, you say? How interesting. Finding elves of a smithing persuasion these days is a rare thing. Do I know her?”
While he speaks he sets about with a compass and a glass cutter, turning a sheet of clear glass into circles small enough to fit inside Mitsanár’s palm.
“I myself have a weakness for teaching… Whoever your student is, I’m sure they will benefit greatly from your experiment. At the very least, it will be a pleasure for you; I know first hand that it is one of the keenest joys to watch the Eruhini discover what is beyond their physical sight– like the matrix of cementite and carbon fibers in this steel, or the formation of oxide crystals.”
Is there literally anything not to like about Haleth? She reminds me of some of the badass ladies from Czech mythology, like Libuše or Vlasta.
What I dislike about them
Like many of Tolkien’s characters, she’s in and out of the narrative before we can learn very much about her. 😦
Also, in terms of how the fandom portrays her, I don’t go in for young, willowy, smudged-eyeliner interpretations of Haleth. I prefer her to be older and a little harder worn.
Favourite moment
Well, her turning Caranthir down flat and living on her own terms in elven territory comes to mind…
Least favourite moment
Does killing a metric shit ton of orcs count? NAAAHHH, the orcs were prolly just like “eh, that’s fair.” I mean if anyone can appreciate a viciously independent warrior queen it’s orcs. Probably.
A situation with this character that I want to see explored more
OKAY WELL, PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING, but I’m a sucker for battle scenarios though, so maybe the point at which the Haladin first arrive in Thargelion, thinking perhaps they’ve outrun whatever horrors are chasing them now that they’re in elf-protected lands, only to discover that the new country is not safe at all. I’d like to see Haleth having to take command in the field directly after her father died, keeping her people alive in increasingly desperate straights until backup arrives.
An interesting AU for this character
Haleth making a truce with a lady-orc commander. *3* Also, total timeline fuckery aside, her meeting Turin would be kinda cool.
OTP (or OT3+ etc)
I don’t have one for her, and I don’t think she had one for her either.
Other ships
I can see her taking lovers or even long-term partners without ever marrying them or having kids. But also, I think by the time she becomes the Halad, she’s probably pretty settled in to the whole Single Matriarch lifestyle and isn’t looking for romantic companionship.
BROTP
I’d love to see her with some OC Haladin characters!!! *3*
NOTP
Caranthir ahhahhaahha get fucked buddy
An assortment of headcanons
Valkyrie from Mad Max would make a great faceclaim for a young Haleth???
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 