A Craftswoman, not a Queen

by Vully_the_vulpix

Summary:

following Míriel and finwë from Cunihaven to the halls of Mandos
This fic is for art 58 by aprilertuile

Notes:

• For Aprilertuile.
• Inspired by Art for TRSB by Aprilertuile

Chapter 1: [ART]

this fic is for aprilertuile's wonderful art 

Chapter 2: Cuinihaven

Apteryë sat on the grass in the middle of the clearing keeping a careful eye on the children she was watching waiting for the next minor disaster to occur as she busied her hands with the constant repair work necessitated by being the mother of a reckless child who seemed to have made it his mission to get stuck in every thornbush he could find - twice. She rose to separate two of the fighting children sending them to play on opposite sides of the clearing and returned to find one of the nettë looking curiously at her pile of finished work.

Upon hearing her approach the girl looked and asked softly " Why are the clothes all different colours in those little bits?"
Taking a seat next to the child she felt the little body press warmly up to her side as soon as she had stopped moving. Once the squirming had stopped she began to explain " my son keeps getting himself caught in thorn bushes so those coloured spots are where I've repaired the little holes. They're all different colours because I use whatever thread I have spare at the time and he keeps climbing back in the bushes "
reaching out to finger one of the patches she murmured as if to herself " these could look really pretty " before looking up and addressing her next question to Apteryë " How do you fix the holes?"
Picking up the fabric she was working on Apteryë began to show her how to build up the patch to cover the hole drawing the needle back and forth to created the long stitches needed . After she had finished the explanation she looked at the girl beside her who had shown unusual patience for a child of her age and offered " Do you want to have a go? - be careful with the needle it's sharp" and indeed by the time they were set to return to the rest of the group little Míriel had achieved pricked sore fingers on both her hands and a clumsy but recognisable snowdrop worked in white around one of the holes for mending.

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this is meant to be satin stich mending in which long stitches are worked over to hole to maintain the integrity of the fabric

quenya
apteryë - women who mends from apteria meaning to repair (from at(a)- “double, a second time” and ferya- “make ready”, lit make ready again) with the feminine ending ë
nettë - girl

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"How are you my beloved" asked Finwë as he walked out of the forest to his wife's side.
"Frustrated " she answered " I saw this gorgeous bird this morning that I wanted to embroider and for the most part I've been able to find all the dyes I want. It's mostly yellow-green so that's fine" pausing as Finwë began to open his mouth she continued " and yes I promise to wash the weld out of the cooking pot before it's time to eat. I only forgot once there's no need to remined me every time.
"You remember because I remind you " countered Finwë cheerfully " and I really don't want it to happen again dye tastes awful".
"Besides" he continued in a undertone " I don't understand why you can't just use your barrels"
Amused at his words Míriel said " because in the barrels weld makes yellow. It needs the iron as a mordent to come out the green I need. Using a woad under dye makes a dark green. It'll be good for the flight feathers but its too dark for the body and head."
Míriel sighed " but that's not the problem I've got the thread for those parts of the bird dyed and drying. It's the shoulders I'm having issues with no matter what ratio I use the woad and madder in I cant get a purple that looks right ."

She shook her head "but never mind that , what did you need?"
"I found some mulberries . Do you want some?" he held out the berries but Míriel ignored the berries to grab one of his hands and began to examine where picking the berries had stained his hands purple .
Excited now she looked up at him " where did you find these" she questioned " we're going to need to pick more for a proper dyestuff."
" Dyestuff" Finwë echoed in confusion at the abrupt shift in the conversation.
" our hands are purple " explained Míriel" that means I might be able to get a purple dye out of them to finish my bird but I'm going to need more berries that you've picked if I'm going to experiment properly."
"There was a clump of bushes off towards the north of the oak cluster. I could go and get some more berries for you." offered Finwë
"could you?" said Míriel gratefully " I'll set up some wool with different mordents to see what works and then once you're back it should be fairly quick to sort out the dye"

Finwë returned to find Míriel encased within a ring of barrels and biting back a laugh approached her holding out the mulberries " what would you like me to do with these, love ?"
Míriel pondered it for a moment " I think using the juice would probably work best and then we just need to add some to all the barrels and see what works best."
"Alright" replied Finwë as he walked past the barrels and as he inhaled he asked , trying to sound nonchalant , " by the way what are you using for the mordants?"
Gesturing at the barrels around her Míriel listed off the contents " dried sheep dung , vinegar , ash , salt , off milk and I'm doing one in just water to see if that works."
Hiding a grimace he watched as Míriel poured the juice onto the fibre and continued speaking " now its just a matter of waiting and washing the thread in the river tomorrow. "

Finwë woke to see Míriel returning from the river with skeins of thread thrown over her shoulder " How did it turn out? Did you manage to get the colour you needed?" he asked.
"I did!" exclaimed Míriel " The mulberry dye seems to work best when mordanted with vinegar or the off milk and there's enough variation within the two that I've got all the colours I need now . Thank you for helping me."
" You did most of the work" protested Finwë as he embraced her " all I did was gather some berries"

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the bird she saw is meant to be a Philippine Green Pigeon (Treron axillaris)

the dyes and mordants mentioned are all real natural dyes https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natural_dye#

---

 

"Beloved?" Finwë asked "what are you doing here? I was lead to believe you were gathering materials for your latest work."
Míriel glanced up at him her hand pausing momentarily in its stroking of the lamb in her lap.
"And so I am my love" she replied " these young ones were rejected by their mothers and I asked that they be given into my care rather than slaughtered now for what meat they can provide before they wither."
"But why? what hope can you have for them" he queried.
"Nyéni's milk seems to be doing them well enough" she said , nodding towards the goat tied to the edge of the pen. "And when they are grown I will have sheep who know my touch as kindness. They will be happy and not struggle when I shear them and for that I will have the finest wool I could ever wish for."

"Besides" she said with the glint in her eye that Finwë had come to know as the mark of her Sight " All young things should have the chance to live"
He sat down beside her and Míriel settled herself against her husband displacing the lamb from her lap with a murmured word.
Swallowing he asked " Talking of young things, have you ever given thought to perhaps having some of our own one day" 
" I had not thought you interested in animal husbandry" she said her smile twitching with suppressed laughter " If you desired flock or herd why have you not mentioned it before"
Sobering she looked at Finwë " I would like an elfling of our own someday but not now , more of our people are being lost to the Hunter than ever before. I would not want to bring a child into this fear and uncertainty."
"Anyway" she added lightly " You would need to get better at naming things before then or else I fear you would saddle our child with a truly unfortunate ataressë"
"I'm not that bad at naming things" he protested " am I?"

Míriel looked at him blankly "you named our goat Nyéni Finwë Nyéni. Yes you are that bad at naming things."
"Alright then if you think I'm so bad at naming things what have you named your lambs?"
Míriel took a moment to glace over the pair before she started to speak again.
"That one" she said pointing at the lamb further away from them "is called Tálléra because she likes getting into everything and has got out of the pen three times already and I've only had her a week. And this one" nodding down at the lamb she had removed from her lap " is called Palmurmë because she always falls asleep on my lap when I stroke her"
"Alright" he said holding up his hands in mock surrender " I will submit to your judgment over all the names I give our children. Though I suspect they will prefer the names you choose for them anyway."
Smiling at each other the couple settled to enjoy an afternoon of relative peace where that greatest thing they had to worry about was the restless energy of two lambs.

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quenya
Nyéni - she-goat
ataressë - father-name
Tálléra - free foot from tál meaning foot and léra meaning free, unguarded , unreserved, unrestrained
Palmurmë - stroke sleep from palta meaning to feel with the hand, stroke and murmë meaning slumber

Notes:

the progression from just embroidery to dyeing and sheep keeping and other fibre arts is inspired by my progression from learning to knit , to learning to crochet , to learning cross stitch and embroidery , to learning needle felting to learning to spin and investigating dyestuff and lamenting the fact that my back garden is too small for a sheep
fibre arts is a slippery slope

Chapter 3: The journey

Finwë swallowed as he stepped away from the crowd .He couldn't regret volunteering when there was the potential to gain safety for all the generations yet to come and the light that shone down from the two trees was truly the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen ( the first most beautiful being of course his wife) He just wished Oromë had given him a change to explain things to Míriel before he left. He stood mutely as his wife approached steeling himself in the face of her well deserved anger.

"I am so mad at you right now" Míriel exclaimed " I don't understand why you would do that and you didn't even talk to me . You've been gone so long and I didn't even get a goodbye ! For all I knew you could have been dead!" She flung her arms around him and began to weep "I'm so glad you're home. Never do this to me again."

Finwë brought his arms up around and buried his face in her hair . " I am sorry that I left you without a word but Oromë wished to leave immediately and I did not think it wise to hinder him . As for volunteering I was hopeful that I could bring our people to a place of peace and safety . Any harm to me is irrelevant if it allows you to live without fear"

stepping back to look him in the eye Míriel questioned him " and is it truly safe. A sanctuary and not simply a beautiful cage?"

"It is " he replied " and a beautiful sanctuary indeed , plants and creatures I have never seen yet none compare to the beauty of the lady Yavanna's trees Laurelin and Telperion . I have never seen a gold like the light that shines from Laurelin and the silver glow of Telperion is second only to the sheen of your hair in the starlight "

"Flatterer " she laughed " Are you sure that you're alright? You've had enough to eat? To drink? I don't have to worry about you hiding any hurts?"

"I promise that I am one hundred percent healthy " affirmed finwë " and I brought back some gifts for you" Rummaging in his pocket he brought out a lump of dark wood . I asked one of Yavanna's Maia and they said that it's called sercëtöa and that the Maia of vaire use it to make a black dye . I thought you might like it " he finished somewhat sheepishly .

" The greatest gift you could have given me is returning to me " said Míriel "but thank you for the wood , if it proves to be a true black it will not only save me a lot of time and effort in dyeing black threads but allow me the opportunity to achieve a much greater variety of colours through combining my dyes."

She began to drag Finwë off towards where she kept her flock " I'm going to want your help getting our animals ready for this journey, and we'll need to make sure we sort out supplies so we have enough food "

 

sercëtöa - bloodwood from sercë meaning blood and töa meaning wood

the dyewood depicted is logwood (Haematoxylum campechianum) and it's scientific name translates to bloodwood.

 

 

---

Míriel beamed at her husband as she skipped backwards twirling around and hopping over the tree roots with the ease of someone who had been dancing amongst the trees her whole life long. Finwë watched her fondly as both quendi enjoyed the wordless peace of the stolen moment before Finwë caught a glimpse of motion in his peripheral vison. Turning swiftly with the wariness learnt by all those who had grown up under the Hunter's shadow he called out a soft warning wincing as Míriel collided with a golden haired stranger.
"Oh" Míriel's hands flew up as she stopped " I'm so sorry for bumping into you"
"No harm done" replied the nis "I'm Indis Malinion what are your names?"
"I'm Míriel " she answered " and this is my husband Finwë"
Turning to her side she saw Finwë standing there eyes still fixed on Indis . Míriel jabbed her fingernails into his side and hissed in his ear "Say something you look like a gormless idiot "
"Its very nice to meet you too " he stated with the stiffness of a practiced response before continuing in a more normal though slightly hesitant tone "You look at lot like Ingwe. Are you related ?"
"Not that love  " she sighed turning to face Indis she added " I do apologise for him , he's perfectly eloquent when he has the time to plan what he's going to say I promise"
"Don't worry" said Indis "It's rather refreshing to not have to wonder what someone might be thinking." She turned to look at Finwë " Yes I am related to Ingwë. He's my uncle on my mothers side." 
Tilting her head Míriel asked gently " From what Finwë has shared of Ingwe you should have plenty of family to travel with , what led to you being here alone."
Huffing a soft sigh Indis replied "my large family is exactly why I'm out here alone , I love them but they can get too much at times." Pausing for breath she added " what about you - why are you out here just the two of you?"
Míriel answered with forced lightness in her tone " well our parents remained behind and neither of us ever had any siblings so our family is just the two of us and I was getting sick of the way that some of the others were looking at Finwë so we also came out here for some peace."
Finwë spoke then sounding thoughtful " We have not yet reached the safety promised to us and it is unwise to travel alone. " Glancing at his wife and seeing her nod in agreement he continued " You could travel with us if you like, when your family gets too much for you and you feel like some peace "
Indis smiled at them as she spoke "that would be lovely. I'll be glad to travel with friends " 

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Malinon- from Malina meaning yellow, of golden colour and the masculine ending on

---

 

 

"I can't imagine how you manage it" laughed Indis looking over towards Míriel who had a pair of needles in her hands and a ball of yarn tucked into a pouch by her side

"practice" replied Míriel simply as she finished the row and turned her knitting round to work on the next " it helps keep my hands busy and makes the most of all this time spent walking"

" the problem" Finwë told her " is when the path isn't clear. Somehow , she manages to keep going no matter what's underfoot but I've had to pull her aside to keep her from walking into a tree before. It happens more frequently than you'd expect " he finished thoughtfully gazing at his wife.

 

Behind them the shadows rippled and a great black wolf sprang from them digging it's claws into fine's exposed back . He let out a choked cry as Indis leapt backward in shock or perhaps fear .

Ears sharpening from their relaxed position Míriel spun around and in one fluid movement plunged her needles into the wargs eyes . Howling in pain and shock at its sudden blindness the beasts grip on Finwë's back slackened and he took advantage of this to turn and sheath his knife in its throat. Panting he looked as miriel who had pulled her needles from the wargs eye sockets and was inspecting her project

 

"well the needle toppers seem to have stopped any of my stitches getting dropped but it looks like the stupid things skull has caused the ends of the needles to splinter so I'll have to make new ones and I doubt I'll manage to get the blood out of the fibres." pausing for breath she turned to look at Indis "I'm sorry , It seems that you might not be getting that scarf as soon as I'd thought." she knelt and began to inspect the warg's corpse "I could do you a muffler though or a nice cloak. No point in wasting the fur"

Hesitantly Indis asked " are you sure that would be a good idea?. Using the fur of something that tried to kill us. "

Míriel scoffed "It's dead now and I've never seen dead fur do anyone any harm. It's not like its the only material that comes from fell beasts either , ungwë is useful for packing wounds and makes a gorgeous shimmering thread and yet the creatures that make it would gladly see us all dead "

softening she conceded " you are right though that we should be careful with its corpse , the flesh will poison both flora and fauna if we fail to properly dispose of it "

 

Finwë hissed in pain at the twisting of his wounds as he attempted to stand before collapsing back down to a seat on the forest floor.

Ceasing their conversation the two nissi turned towards them and Míriel knelt down my his size " you idiot " she said " I can't believe you just tried to keep going while you were injured." she paused considering " well I can I just wish you wouldn't. If you roll over I can have a look at your wounds, see if I can do anything"

Míriel grimaced upon seeing his back and said - in the forcefully optimistic tone of someone trying not to give into despair - "that looks fairly nasty but it should be fine. I'll just put a few stitches in to hold the wounds closed before a healer can see what needs to be done."

"I'll go get one now" offered Indis in a slightly unsteady voice before darting off into the forest to find the rest of their traveling group

 

" this is going to hurt I'm afraid my love " apologised Míriel as she knelt on his legs to hold him down . She took a deep breath passing her husband a scrap of cloth to bite down on and threading her sharpest needle ( bright blue to stand out clearly against his skin and the blood still weeping from his open wounds )

She knotted the end of the silk and began to pass the needle through Finwë 's flesh in the zig-zag patten of mattress stitch wincing at every muffled scream yet forcing herself to keep going

when she had finished she stood up on shaky legs and stumbled away from Finwë - who was lying still as death, the pain so great he had fallen into unconsciousness , and covered in blood- and emptied her stomach at the base of a tree.

 

It was to this that Indis returned - after a period of time that felt simultaneously like innumerable hours and no time at all - dragging the grim faced healer after her. Ceutar inspected Finwë's back for several minutes before he made his pronouncement . " well the stitches aren't like anything I would think to use and he'll probably have a fair amount of scaring but with the size of those gashes if you had waited for me he would almost certainly be dead"

He pulled a jar filled with ointment of some sort and smeared it over the closed wounds "You'll need to keep applying this ointment and keep an eye on the wounds. We're not sure what causes it but injures from those fell beasts tend to fester" he fixed Míriel with a stern gaze " If anything changes come and find me or another healer . Don't think you can handle it yourself. These are nasty wounds and the place they're in means that you won't be able to wrap them properly. You need to make sure he takes it easy or you might yet lose him"

-- ------

Ceutar - person who renews from Ceuta meaning To Renew/Refresh with the gender neutral ending r

ungwë - spider-web

Chapter 4: Aman

"your majesties " said the quendi standing before the thrones as Míriel reached the end of her tether
she turned to her husband and murmured ,low enough that he was the only one to hear," I'm going to see my ewes , You don't need me here for the decisions and I've had enough of sitting perfectly still surrounded by people " waiting until the other quendi were occupied by the ner who had continued to speak she slid out of her throne with the silence she had learnt for survival , a skill learnt for the wellbeing of her hora being used to preserve the state of her fea , Lightly as a cotton seed upon the wind she walked out of the back entrance to the throne room . She then stripped off the excessive layers that had been given to her with the insistence that they would be perfect for court revealing the beautifully embroidered , but manoeuvrable , outfit that she had been wearing underneath
she took care to be unnoticeable as she moved through the corridors to reach the garden her sheep had been placed in

She sat down on the grass as Palmurmë stumbled over and lay her head in Míriel's lap . She set her hand in her eldest ewe's fleece and began combing through the wool . After a few minutes she began to speak " I don't know what I'm supposed to . I never wanted any of this . Finwë was a reckless idiot when he volunteered and a good guide when he lead us here but I don't see why that meant he needed to be king " letting out a somewhat shaky breath she continued " and I know he's good at it now but they couldn't have known it and I don't see why I have to be involved. I spend most of my days just sitting there , perfectly still, like a living picture . I don't even have my embroidery ." falling silent she continued to pull bits of debris from the wool of the drowsy ewe
her hands stilled and her breathing became shaky " All I want is a safe home with my love , with an acre or two nearby for you lot, the ability to practice my craft and a family to love. I could send Finwë off to do his kinging and welcome him home when he was done . no need for me to need to make conversation with all the strangers that come to speak with him , no need for me to endure nissi gushing over the skill of my craft while they keep me from it. just the opportunity for peace at last . " feeling a sudden exhaustion come over her as she finally released the thoughts she had been suppressing Míriel curled around her old friend and joined the ewe in slumber

when Míriel woke it was to both a sound and the lack of one . Raising her slightly bleary eyes she saw one of the quendi who served as advisor standing over her looking unimpressed. she vaguely heard him say something about slacking off … disregarding her duties … making a mockery of her husband but was far more focused on the ewe besides her . Míriel chocked back a sob torn between the sorrow over loosing the ewe, who she had raised from a few hours after birth, and her relief that she had at least been with Palmurmë when she had passed , for all they were both sleeping .
composing herself Míriel interrupted the indignant ner and asked " I have supplies in the bag over there , would it be possible for you to pass them to me?"
she listened to his wordless spluttering for a few moments before standing on her unsteady legs to fetch it herself.
when she had returned to her ewes side she drew a sharp butchers knife from the bag and set the edge against Palmurmë's throat as she whispered a final goodbye.

Looking at her for perhaps the first time the adviser asked " what on arda are you doing"
Míriel replied , voice forced steady, " I'm skinning my ewe. then I'm going to cure her skin to wrap around my child and bury the rest of her "
"but surely ,your majesty ,you could hire someone to do it . A craftsmen , there is no need to lower yourself to something so below your station
fed up with the nis Míriel said , barely hiding her anger, " I am a craftswoman , taking care of my ewe is not lowering myself and I don't like your talk of 'my station'. Now I would appreciate it if you could GO and tell my husband that I will be a little late in joining him due to needing to set up the curing frame"

---

"Keep pushing my queen I can see their head "declared Rúnisse
Míriel pushed and as she did she felt her eyes close as she slipped away from the sight of the birthing room and Saw.
She saw a ner with bright eyes and dark hair-hair like ashes , like coal- and she knew him to be her son. She saw her child grown and she adored him ,the way he looked so much like his father on first glance but resembled her most on closer examination. The surety in his stance , his gentle smile , the burning light of his being .
Míriel saw her son standing before a forge his face split by the force of his delight.
Saw him standing before an apprentice his eyes alight with the joy of teaching and sharing his knowledge. 

She saw her son on a battlefield (were they not meant to be safe here that was why they had come .To raise children that would never need to know pain or terror or hardship . Who could follow their hearts , their crafts without the need to worry about how they were going to survive the coming days .Who could plan for the future and know beyond doubt that they would have their family around them. Who would never have known someone who died or was lost. What had happened for her son to know this horror)
She saw how the beings of flame surround him (they resembled no being that she had seen or heard of before but gave off the same feeling of the hunters twisted creatures. How dark was the world that they stood on an open plain and no longer felt the need to hide among the shadows)
She saw him fight . She saw him fall.
Saw a group of eldar gathered round them (and a part of her mind untouched by the horror heard one call him father and rejoiced at the thought of the grandchildren she would someday have).
She saw him burn .

She opened her eyes then and the midwife laid her son in her arms for the first time (oh my beloved child what is your fate to be .)
Beside her Finwë was overcome by his joy
“ Welcome to the world my son .I am so glad to meet you “ he exclaimed in a muted tone so as not to disturb the infant.
Glancing sideways he asked his wife “Do you have a name for him? I confess I have been having trouble finding one which you might approve of”
“Fëanaro “ she said her voice strained for with what she had seen how could she name her child for anything but the fire of his passion (the fire of his death)
And when tears began to slide down her face all present thought them tears of joy as she mourned the death her newborn child was fated to someday meet
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quenya
Rúnisse - lit woman who frees from Rúna meaning To free and issë meaning woman who does

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Míriel wrapped her son in Palmurmë's fleece and cradled him to her " oh my son , my greatest joy when you grow up don't you ever let this crown and ceremony steal you from yourself. Kingship has already stolen your father from me , pulled away at his mind until it consumes his every waking moment . I do not think I could bare to lose you too . When you find your craft don't let them try to take it from you  ,follow your heart and know that I will love you always. I will return when I no longer feel so drained and so I will not say goodbye but see you latter my Fëanaro ". 

She passed him to his father and then Míriel Þerindë lay down in the gardens of Lorien .

Chapter 5: Mandos epilogue

when Míriel spoke she had been standing by Finwë's side for both a single second and many long moments. "Your children are wonderful. You should be proud of them "
startled he said "yes very" then with more hesitance "you do not mind?"
"I am glad that you found happiness . I love you how could I want anything but that . I am glad to have seen your children and their children . I don't mind any of that ". she turned to face him " what I do mind is the names you picked , I don't think you could have chosen worse names if you tried . I'm also not impressed with how you died but you've always been a reckless idiot."
"now tell me about the babies" she asked "there's only so much I could learn from seeing them and I want to know everything !"