18. Fíriel

`Fíriel! Fíriel!'

She called the name she knew so well
In vibrant tones that rose and fell:
Around her rose the city and its spires
Like wonders woven in a song inspired
To rejoice
- within the splendor -
- of her voice. -

Now dashing down the sudden stairs
With flashing feet and haloed hair
- In grace a gazelle, elemental as the earth -
Gamboling, dancing, gay with mirth
She came, her mother's daughter
- eyes bright as gems -
- or fresh spring water. -

They turned together, hand in hand
Past quiet courts, down arches, avenues
Whose white walls lit by rosy light
Glinted and glowed like ethereal things.
Theirs was the beauty which makes men
Sing:
- mother, daughter, -
- summer, spring. -

Up stairs and steps, on winding ways
They climbed and came to high-roofed hall
Where Lord and Lady sat in state:
Its eight walls strewn
- with emblems radiant -
- of sun and stars and crescent moon. -

Morfindel stood there, and Fíriel smiled
To see how close he stood to Corùwen.
He bent to bow: tawny-tinted,
Strong as steel, leopard-lithe:
Yet all his grace
- was in his arm about her -
- when his eyes strayed to her face. -

Fíriel felt all eyes upon her:
Stood straight, a solemn tree
While silence spread.
Just as the air may bear a blossom
Past a garden wall,
- so step by step -
- she crossed the hall. -

If our lives are like banners blowing,
Turning, tossing on the wind of time,
Then Fíriel before them was a flag unfurled.
The king and queen rose to receive
Her who came
- a daughter grown -
- to wear a woman's name. -

'How the flowers unfold in this city's spring,'
'How children change!' declared the king.
'No child now, choose your name anew;'
'Choose well, choose words that suit your soul's
'Intent,'
- 'for trees will grow -
- 'as they are bent.' -

Suppose a butterfly could be reborn
A hawk, and come forth fierce and heavy-winged,
Bold of eye, still bound to earth
But eager for the air: so Fíriel seemed then
To her mother's mind
- and mother-love though fond -
- is seldom blind. -

'Then call me Cemniel!' she cried
As sudden in that silence as an unexpected
Drum. 'I'll name my nature, I'll declare
'My birth:'
- 'though heir to stars,' -
- 'a daughter to the earth!' -

Suddenly she smiled, met her mother's eyes
As if mirth moved in her from unseen springs.
Her gaze caught the king's half-hidden smile
That matched her own.
- She turned then, -
- set alone, -

And sang of joy in gentle things:
Starling, songbird, hummingbird hovering,
Trout in streambed, salmon spawning,
Fawn in forest, cattle lowing,
Fire on hearthstone, children laughing,
Mortal mirth swift-passing
Perishing
- like morning mist -
- yet cherished, cherishing. -

She sang of starlight, trees, and time;
Of seasons swinging in ritual rhyme;
Of moonlight, mountains, cold cascades,
Rivers running - beyond, the sea.

And while her word still held the hall
There came a quiet counterpoint:
Tones, a tune. Each birdlike, liquid,
Tremulous trill
- pierced the air -
- and held it still. -

Imagine music like the rain
Building beauty out of pain,
Coming closer. Who can fathom,
Who can chart
- immortal longing -
- fixed in art? -

Nèhaléni held stock-still,
Eyes aflicker, poised in place.
The music moved. Fingers flashing,
Daeron came,
- weaving wonder -
- on a frame -

Of silence. Fíriel smiled.
He bent to bow before them.
'Welcome, music's master!'
Cried the king. 'I thank you,'
'First to bless
- 'Fíriel Cemniel,' -
- 'and wish her happiness!' -

One by one the other elves approached,
Bearing blessings, giving gifts,
Then stepping out in silence. Silent,
Last, Nèhaléni came. She stopped.
Quietly, Fíriel kissed her, slipped away.
The king and queen embraced her, both
Without a word, and left. Nèhaléni
Trembled. Above them glowing emblems
Shone
- where she and Daeron -
- stood alone. -