Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) Title: Snowflakes (#625) Author: Authwen Chapters: 1 Archive: Tolkien Category: Alternate Universe (AU) Description: Maglor ponders a snowflake during the first snowfall of the season. Not sure if this is AU or Silm material... but I put it here to be on the safe side. Published: 15 Feb 2004 Updated: 15 Feb 2004 Warnings: none Type: General Characters: Maglor Chapter 1 - Snowflakes Title: Snowflake Author: Elvenwanderer (aka Alyssa) Rating: G Completion: Chapter 1 of 1. Complete. Warning: Not really anything too bad. Disclaimer: The Tolkien estate owns the characters; I own the way the words are put together. The ideas are solely mine, for these stories are true to my life. I know… who thinks about the purpose of snowflakes? Me, apparently. I’m not really as pathetic as I sound… well, maybe I am. Ya never know. Beta: none Timeline: any time after the elves leave Middle-Earth Notes: I am a hopeless Maglor fanatic. Summary: Maglor ponders a snowflake during the first snowfall of the season. ** My breath comes out as wispy grey fog before me, rising towards the sky to disappear among the clouds. As I look to once again survey its bleak journey, a single snowflake lands on my cheek. And then a second. These few meager flakes are the portents of a harsh winter to come. I can feel it. The very earth has braced against it. With this first snowfall of the year, as with every other year, I am vaguely reminded of the first time that I felt the sting of the fleeting cold upon my face and hands. Father and I were standing on the bridge of the flagship made by the Teleri, gazing out over the turbulent gray seas before us. Thoughts and times were grim, for we had yet to see land and the past events still weighed on our minds. My mind, leastwise, for I do not know what my father thought. The captive ship sailed bravely into the haze of light gray, while even our vision was decreased greatly by the unknown mist suspended in the air before us. My father seemed not to be troubled by the chill air – although none of the rest of us was immensely bothered by it either – the snow seemed to melt before it touched his hröa. How hot his fëa must have been, simmering just beneath the surface of his skin. When someone grasped my arm, I looked to my left to see Maedhros, my only elder brother, truly smile for the first time in years. A snowflake had landed on the tip of his nose and had yet to dissolve. The white flakes had a calming effect on the rest of the ship’s crew apparently, for a packed mass of the snow exploded onto my chest, pieces flying into my face and down the neck of my tunic. I whirled around to see a grinning sailor blush and point towards another of my brothers, the elder of the twins, Amrod. In response, I swept a mass of the snow from a close by railing into my hand and, after a bit of trouble getting it to stick together in a ball like form, I threw it at Amrod’s now retreating figure. At least he was smart enough to flee. For a while after that, both of us caught in the innocent diversion of a snow battle. Even Father joined us once he had accidentally stepped in the path of one such “snowball.” After that amusing day, the snow became more commonplace, and I normally ceased to notice its presence. That was until one night while I was sitting, stranded in my chambers during a blizzard. A few wayward flakes squeezed into my room through the window, only to melt away to droplets of water as they came near to the fire. Having been staring blankly at my hearth, I looked away from the red, gold and violet flames to witness the “death” of one such traveler. This made me wonder, are not snowflakes also Eruchîn?[1] Eru created the world; certainly such simple creatures as snowflakes would also have been made by Him? This brought on the question of such a thing's purpose. Surely they did more than just provide a dissolvable plaything for the childlike? Did they know what their fate was when they chose to become snowflakes? Then again, do any of us know, really, where our lives will lead us? Are our fëar just placed in different bodies at random? Could I have been Curufin or Gelegorm? Could either of them have been me? Born in the bellies of the dark clouds, snowflakes mature before being released into the buffeting and confusing currents of the sky. They then fall to the earth, clinging for life to one another from the murderous warmth that surrounds them. Yet, in spite of this desperate struggle, none will live through the winter of their lives. Eru does not give them pity. Save the fact that every winter, they are reborn. This seems oddly akin to the fate of my people. We were born in the bliss of Valinor, and by making disastrously bad choices; we essentially pushed ourselves into the cruel, evil realm of Beleriand, from whence there would be no return. Uncountable thousands of the Quendi met Mandos in the battles of the First Age. They were killed in the darkness of the winter of their lives, before spring could again blossom. Still the winter is holding on with the jaws of a wolf, all of my people that were left departed across the Sea to Valinor long ago. ** Note: [1] Eruchîn: Eru’s children. Please review, all authors appreciate constructive criticism! ------------------------------------------------------------------ Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sun Nov 15, 2026 1:01 am