Chapter One - Under the Starlight




Year 765 of the Valian Years of the Trees – Cuiviénen


Light.

All he could see were tiny pinpricks of light above him. They glittered in an endless field of dark sky. The soft winds gently caressed him, and he felt the soft grass under him. Gradually he was aware of his limbs, of the length and breadth of his body. He sniffed the air and smelled the sharp scent of pine. Suddenly, a sharp noise pierced the air. Instinctively, he rose, and for the first time, he stood on his feet. Around him, bodies lay about. All of them had dark hair, and the light from the skies illuminated their pale bodies.

Was that what he had been like before he awoke? Confusion clouded his mind. Carefully stepping over the other bodies, he made his way to the edge of a great lake. What was this place? The place fascinated him, almost as much as the water. Hesitantly he reached out and touched it. The cool liquid startled him, and he withdrew his hand quickly. But curiosity overtook him once more, and so he touched the water again.

A new feeling came upon him. His throat was parched.

Thirst.

The water looked appealing then, and so he gently bent down and lapped some of the water with his tongue. The water soothed his dry throat, and he felt much better. But as he was about to rise again, he noticed his reflection in the water. He bent closer and looked at the makeshift mirror carefully. Long, dark hair framed a pale face. Grayish-blue eyes blinked in confusion. He was like that of his other kindred, two arms and two legs. His nude body gleamed in the starlight. Still watching himself in the water, he gently stroked the skin of his stomach. Soft to his touch, underneath it he felt muscle.

The noise pierced the air again. Turning his head, he saw warm yellow light among the trees. Filled with curiosity again, he abandoned his reflection and walked toward the trees. As he drew closer, his nose picked up more scents, except these scents caused his stomach to hurt.

Hunger.

He walked into the woods and stood for a few moments admiring the trees. They soared above him, and he imagined that if he climbed to the tops of them, he could reach out and touch the twinkling. But the mysterious smells assaulted him again, so he crept forward. From behind a bush, he peaked into the clearing.

And saw the most glorious creatures imaginable. They were like him in body shape, but their hair and skin were golden. They wore clothes of leather, the men in breechclouts and the women with some sort of halter and short skirt of leather. But the most amazing thing was the noises coming from them. They were moving their mouths, and sweet noises came out. Dimly he realized that they were speaking to each other. But he knew not what their words meant.

He watched them for a long while, and soon he began to understand some of their words. He began to wonder if he could speak like them. But as he was considering this, he looked up to see one of the golden-haired people staring in his direction. He was the most beautiful of them all, and his eyes were a bright blue. He raised his hand, and all around him fell silent. Slowly he walked forward toward the bush and then stopped. He spread his hands gently and beckoned the dark-haired person to come forward. He did, and all the golden haired ones looked at him in wonder. They broke out in whispers as they looked upon him with admiration.

Their lord smiled at him gently. He pointed to himself and said, “I am Ingwë.”

The dark-haired one considered this and decided he like that name. But since it was already taken...he pointed to himself in turn. “Finwë.” Belatedly he realized that only he was unclothed, and a slight blush stained his pale cheeks. Ingwë saw this and gently took him by the hand and led him to a small hut. There, he gave Finwë a breechclout of the type the golden-haired man wore. Wordlessly Ingwë showed him how to wear it, and when he was done, Ingwë took a rough comb and pointed to Finwë’s hair. Finwë, unsure of what Ingwë wanted, nodded. Ingwë gently brushed out Finwë’s black locks until they were silky to touch.

Ingwë began speaking. “I know you will not understand all my words, but in time, you should be able to speak our language. We mean you no harm, and we have long anticipated your awakening.”

Finwë looked into the eyes of Ingwë and saw only warmth and curiosity. He felt safe in his presence. So he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he had awoken. “What am I? Where do I come from?”

Ingwë dropped the brush and stared at him in shock. Finally, a small smile lit his features. “I see that you already understand my words. How is that possible?”

“I listened to you for a long time, and I began to understand your some of your words.” Ingwë looked at him in amazement.

“That is amazing.” But before he could say more, a woman entered the tent. She shared Ingwë’s coloring, and her eyes were kind and gentle. In her hands she held a tray that held two objects. She placed it in front of him and looked at him expectantly. She pointed to herself. “Irinel.”

“I am Finwë,” he replied back, enjoying the look of shock on her face. Ingwë bent down and whispered in her ear, and she nodded, admiration growing in her blue eyes.

“I have brought you food.” Food? His confusion must have been evident, for Irinel elaborated. “Food is something you eat.” She pointed at one of the objects on the tray. It was short and stout, and it contained some sort of substance. “This is a bowl, and inside it is something we call soup.” Finwë raised the bowl to his lips and sniffed it. He felt his stomach growl, and under the encouraging eyes of Ingwë and Irinel, he sipped from the bowl until his hunger was appeased. Then Irinel pointed at the other object on the tray. It was tall and slender, cylindrical in shape. “This is a cup, and inside, there is water.” Finwë looked inside it and saw the same thing he had seem in the lake. Giving Irinel a small smile, he quickly drank the water.

When he was done, he looked to them again. “Will you not answer my question, Ingwë?”

Ingwë looked troubled at this. “I wish that I could answer, but the truth is, I do not know. Like you, I awoke on the shores of the lake, although long before you. I was the first to awaken, and soon after, the rest of my people followed.” Finwë leaned forward to listen.

“When all of us had awakened, we tried to pierce together our history. We sought to answer the very same questions you ask now. But alas, we have not come up with any solutions yet, although it has been many years. So we began building huts, and we learned how to hunt. We discovered that out of all the creatures we have encountered, only we have the ability to form words. We began exploring around this area, and it was during one of these expeditions that we stumbled upon your people.”

Finwë blinked. “You mean you awoke somewhere else?”

Ingwë shook his head. “We awoke on the other side of the lake, close by. But when we discovered you, we moved down here in order to watch over you and wait until you awakened. Later on, we discovered another group of people, much closer to the lakeshore. There are many more of them. They are the largest tribe.”

“Another tribe?”

“Yes. And they are very diverse in their coloring. Unlike my people, who all have golden hair, and your people, who are all raven-locked, the third tribe is both light and dark. Some have silver hair, and some have red hair. It is something truly wondrous to see.”

Irinel spoke again. “Finwë, when you awoke, was there anybody next to you?” He thought about this. “No, there was not. I was alone.” He looked at the woman curiously. “Why?”

“If anyone had been beside you, he or she would have been either your brother or sister,” answered Ingwë. “Irinel awoke beside me, and so she is my sister.”

“How do you know she is not supposed to be your mate?” The words came out before he thought about them, and he felt embarrassed. But neither Ingwë nor Irinel looked offended.

Ingwë looked thoughtful. “We did consider that, but some people awoke with more than one person next to them. One of my people awoke next to three women.”

“And he cannot have three mates,” added Irinel with a smile.

Finwë smiled back.




Over the next few days, the rest of Finwë’s people awoke, all just as confused as he had been. But Ingwë and his people were there with Finwë as he welcomed the newly awakened people into existence. And just like Finwë, they quickly assimilated the language. Finally, Ingwë and Finwë spoke of how their people should live.

“Ingwë, my people and I cannot survive on our own. We need your guidance,” admitted Finwë.

Ingwë gave his friend a small smile. “We would be happy to stay with your people and teach them.” Here the blue eyes twinkled. “But this ‘your people’ and ‘my people’ business must stop. We need names for ourselves.”

“Do you have a name for yourselves?” asked Finwë curiously.

Ingwë considered this. “Not really. Before you had awakened, we were the only ones. We called ourselves the Quendi, the speakers. But there are two tribes now, and while we are all Quendi, we are not all the same.”

“Then you should be the Minyar, the first, as you and your tribe first beheld the stars,” suggested Finwë. “My people and I will be the Tatyar, the second. And the tribe that has yet to be awakened shall be the Nelyar, the third.”

And so the Minyar and Tatyar dwelt in friendship over the next few years. The Minyar taught the Tatyat, and in turn, the Tatyar assimilated Minyar culture. Additionally, they added to the language, making it more developed. Under the Tatyar, their rustic tongue became more sophisticated, which allowed ideas and thoughts to be exchanged with more ease. This was the second major difference between the two tribes, the first being their looks. The Tatyar loved knowledge, and they spent much of their time building. Under their hands, better weapons were crafted, more comfortable homes built. The Minyar, on the other hand, were far superior in body and will, although not in knowledge. The Minyar became the warriors, for they were taller and stronger. Indeed, the Tatyar were in awe of the superior strength and beauty of the Minyar, and happily accepted their protection.

Together they waited for the Nelyar to awaken.




Year 783 of the Valian Years of the Trees – Cuiviénen


When the Nelyar did awaken, the cultures of the Minyar and Tatyar were already formed. Taboos existed, and laws were formed. And some of the Quendi began mating together, although no actual marriage ceremony had been created yet. Language was taking on a written form, although it was still rustic. However, the greatest leap in cultural development was their ability to communicate without words. This sort of mental communication was frightening at first, especially to the Minyar. But over time the Tatyar mastered mind speaking, and they taught the Minyar in this matter.

But neither tribe had discovered song until the Nelyar awoke.

It was Finwë who first found them awake. He had been walking when he heard the most amazing thing. A melody pierced the air, the first melody he had ever heard. Like bells, it twinkled pleasantly in his ears. He ran back to the Minyar camp and dragged Ingwë from his sleep. He led Ingwë to the place where he heard the song. “I never heard anything like it before,” said Finwë in hushed tones.

The two men stood there for a long time, as they listening to the haunting melody. Soon, another joined in, and then a third. “What do you suppose…” Finwë trailed off. “It is coming from the direction of the Nelyar sleeping place.”

“Perhaps they have awakened.” Ingwë began walking towards the Tatyar but stopped when he saw that Finwë remained standing. “Finwë?”

“Do you think that they will be afraid of us?” asked Finwë uncertainly.

The golden-haired man looked thoughtful. “Possibly. But if we do not get to them soon, then they will wander off into the forest and become lost.” Reassured by this, Finwë followed his friend.

The sight that greeted them was rather strange. Three men were seated on the ground, and they looked very different from one another. One had grayish-silver hair, one had silver hair, and one had black hair. They were the source of the melody, for their mouths were emitting the sounds. When the three of them noticed the approached of Ingwë and Finwë, they stopped, however, and the night became silent again.




Some Notes:

- In the Lost Road, it is said that Ingwë was the first of all Elves to awaken (called the Lindar in that book).

- The original name for the three tribes was Minyar (first), Tatyar (second), and Nelyar (third). Later on, the Noldor would rename the tribes, into the more familiar Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri. (Just a brief note: originally, I had accidently switched the Tatyar and Nelyar, but someone pointed out my mistake. Also, I mistakenly use the word glass, which is an anachronism at this point.)

- There is some debate on whether Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë were the first to awaken. According to Michael Martinez, in a children’s tale of the First Elves, Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë are not even mentioned. Instead, the first three elves are Imin, Tata, and Enel. Martinez goes on to explain this, but I will just conveniently add the link here, so you all can go check it out if you are interested.

Martinez, Michael. “It’s All in the Family: The Elweans and Ingweans.” http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/tolkien/78071 But I have chosen to have Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë as the Big Three, since I am more comfortable with it.

- The Noldor were very talented linguists, which is why Finwë picks up the language very well.

- Rumil would develop actual writing later on, but there must have been a very rudimentary precursor.

- Although I haven’t mentioned it yet, Morwë and Nurwë were lords of the Avari.

- Like Finwë awoke fully dressed in ceremonial robes and with a circlet? It’s not like Iluvator provided a wardrobe…


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