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Haleth was bored . Which she didn’t know could happen, especially since she had become chieftess and literally had problems piling up on her plate. Boredom had been something she had nearly forgotten existed.
She blinked incredulously at the ceiling. Her husband slept soundly beside her, warm like a furnace, snow fell slowly behind the windows, and she had nothing to do.
Haldan had taken over some of the duties now that he was older, and it was winter besides, nothing happened in winter. Her weapons were all in immaculate order. She was banned from doing anything with fibercraft after Caranthir had seen her attempt at weaving and practically stole her loom with a horrified expression. The animals were tended to by others, the kitchens were not under her supervision, the library… well, she wasn’t going to admit to her husband that the reason why she didn’t like to read was that the words didn't make sense when they were written.
Haleth blinked at the ceiling again. She supposed she could seduce her husband again, but he would get absolutely miserable if they had sex too often, for his elvish disposition was apparently not made to handle having fun.
She sighed, turning to her side. Caranthir mumbled something, wrapping himself around her like a cocoon, warm and soft. Haleth smiled softly, blowing away some of his hair that had fallen into her eyes.
He had the energy to ramble last night, even after she had thoroughly taken care of him. Apparently he had discovered some new magic, something about the threads of time. She didn’t really understand all that he told her, but it was interesting enough, and there was nothing quite as calming as falling asleep to him rambling about some subject or another.
Haleth made herself relax. They could stay like this for another few hours until she came up with something better to do.
Tapestries of time…Huh. So it is not just a saying. Wonder what would happen if I got him to do his magics on the big one hanging in the scriptory. It’s suitably…itchy with magic. And honestly, I mislike it. I don’t think anybody will cry if it gets a bit singed in the process.
Or we could die as the spell backfires. Ah, whatever. Haldan is old enough to rule in my stead.
Haleth raised an eyebrow at her thoughts. Was she getting old? This sounded like something a crazy grandma would think.
Well, she was the crazy woman of the village, she supposed. Marrying an elf, and stuff.
After a while, Caranthir mumbled something, and stirred awake, blinking, light returning to his eyes. - Good morning.- he muttered out, stretching lazily.
-Good morning.- Haleth smirked, and rolled over on top of him. He blinked at her confusedly down his nose, blushing slightly when she managed to sneak a hand under his sleepshirt.
-I, ah, well M’lady, what?- he managed after a second, ears swiveling. He was quite adorable, although she wouldn’t tell him this, lest he start scowling again.
-I’m bored.- she announced, prompting her husband to relax into the pillows with a long suffering sigh.
-It’s morning .- he made a face. - Surely there are other things to do in this castle, not only me.-
Haleth snorted. - Ah, well, I figured you wouldn’t be in the mood. Alas. What would you say about testing some of your theories today? The tapestry in the scriptory could use an update.-
Caranthir blinked at her, thin, black eyebrows slowly climbing up his forehead. - Are you calling it ugly?-
-No.- she lied cheerfully. - But I do not have anything else to do today and at least your magic-wibbly-wobbly-thread-stuff sounds interesting.-
-Magic-wibbly-wobbly…- he muttered, blinking at her with an incredulous expression. - Ah, but... -
She smiled at him, and held his silver gaze until he didn’t break eye contact with a sigh. -All right, all right.- he acquiesced. -Now please, can I get up? I need to relieve myself, I fear.-
Haleth smirked again, and patted his chest. -Of course.- she let him go. - But get back there right after. You are warm and we can actually cuddle for a bit today.-
Caranthir only hummed affirmatively in reply, limping to the bathroom.
She nestled herself back into the pillows, yawning. They could say another hour or so, and then onto experimenting.
Her husband’s magic was fascinating, even if he pouted at her every time she called it that, insisting that those were all regular abilities to have.
Wonder what we actually will do with the tapestry, hah. It will surely be more amusing than sitting here all day.
******
They managed to take down the tapestry with minimal hassle, mostly thanks to the unholy agility that Caranthir could display in the correct attire, namely when he wasn’t wearing robes. Hauling it up to the work room was a bit more difficult, but a few of her people lent a hand, snickering all the way up.
Haleth raised one eyebrow at them. She could carry the damn thing herself, but it was terribly unwieldy and she looked like an ant carrying a grasshopper besides.
And Caranthir nearly got a heart attack when she attempted it, so. She wasn’t going to make him even more concerned about her joints than he was.
She wasn’t young enough that her joints creaking in winter were something to panic about, but apparently he saw it differently.
But they managed to haul the thing to the work room, one way or another. It was big enough to spill over the edges of the big table, thick like her thumb, and the fire of the torches was detailed in golden thread. A fine work of art, and finer still for being made by Caranthir, a master of his trade.
She didn’t mislike it for it’s looks or shoddy craftsmanship, or the place where it hung. Haleth despised it for the way Caranthir always shut down when he looked at it.
It depicted his father, eyes ablaze, standing in the middle of a circle of torches, sword high in the air, and seven figures mirroring him.
The Oath, he had explained. The Oath that was quiet until it wasn’t, and she truly hated the days when it acted up, and they had no choice but to shut Caranthir in the dungeon for a few hours, lest he kill someone or himself.
Haleth pursed her lips at the offending tapestry. She had always wanted to punch his father. Once or twice, not more, for he was a decent father all around, it seemed, but for this, specifically.
-What do you think will happen?- she ran her hand over the carefully woven faces of her brothers-in-law, and Caranthir shrugged from where he mixed something in a glass beaker.
-Best case, it will work as I want it too, and show us a moving projection of the event. If it works somewhat well, it should at least animate the figures to move.- he smiled acerbically. - Worst case scenario, something explodes, and let’s pray it won’t be us.-
She hummed in response. - In hindsight I could have picked out a less somber tapestry to try this.-
Caranthir made a face. - Maybe. On the other hand, as Neylo says, historical education value. Not everyone here knows or remembers. This might turn out to be an easier solution than explaining it to anybody who heard the rumors.-
Well, she had to congratulate him on his reasoning.
- How would it work, then?- Haleth walked around the thing, tilting her head curiously at his ministrations with some sort of crystal.
-Amplifying the vibrations of the Music trapped in the cloth, and binding it into anchoring crystals, coupled with the intent of the weaver for this to be a tapestry of memory and time should bring out the assorted movements of the figures, and since there is some metal thread in this I need to dissolve the oxidation layer first, or the Music won’t catch the right amplitude, being muffled by those.- Caranthir hummed softly, the crystal in his hand glowing in response. - Good, this one works too. Could you pass me the shears?-
Haleth obediently passed him the shears. - I understood exactly nothing of what you just said, love, but sure. Here you go.-
She watched in fascination as he passed a thick woolen thread through the hole at the base of the crystal and tied it to the corner of the tapestry.
-Ah, well. This is highly experimental, of course, but Curvo had mentioned something similar working in the Halls of Aule once, and the Khazad reminded me of this last time they came by with their songs. I think I managed to capture enough of that day in this tapestry for it to work? - her husband poked the edge of the thing, where some mouse had frayed the threads a bit. - It should work.-
Haleth snorted. - I better go bring a bucket of water, then.-
He laughed softly, a rare sound, and nodded. - Of course. I shall tie the other foci in the meanwhile, and then we can begin.-
She went and fetched the bucket, smiling. She had a good feeling about this experiment.
*******
The song Caranthir started to hum got louder, and she recognized the melody. It was the same one he always sang while weaving.
Haleth joined him quietly, harmonizing, her voice just a tad bit lower than his. He glanced at her and shot her a quizzical look, but continued.
The crystals in the corners of the tapestry began to glow softly and tremble. The air in the room became thick with the sound, and she grinned, feeling slightly feral.
She loved the way the song glided around them, bouncing off of her teeth and ribs, the way Caranthir lit up with a soft shine of moonlight, power pouring out of him in waves.
They reached the second chorus when something odd started happening, the surface of the tapestry rippling like waves. She glanced at him in confusion and he frowned, changing the pitch of the melody slightly.
The tapestry rippled harder, the crystals dimming slightly, and the air started smelling of salt and torches. Haleth blinked. This was odd. Caranthir’s song became a bit panicky, ears pinning back, and she grabbed the bucked preemptively.
She only managed to turn around again when a bright white light overtook her vision , blinding her.
*******
Next she knew, she was standing in complete darkness, with only a few torches illuminating the crowd around her. A decidedly elven crowd.
Somebody was talking, a rousing speech by the tone of voice, even if the language was odd.
Her bones felt weird. And ears. And eyes. And everything, really.
Haleth blinked a few times, feeling her ears move.
Oh fuck am I in an elven body or what.
She could even feel Caranthir much better than before, not that it made much difference since he seemed to have lost consciousness. She hoped somebody caught him and he wouldn’t get trampled.
The guy giving the speech faltered for a second when a tall redhead shouted something, genuine concern painting itself on his face, and she squinted. He looked kind of like her husband, if her husband had sharper cheekbones and a crown.
…Feanor???
Haleth made a confused noise. Something clearly had gone wrong with the experiment.
Feanor (?) paused his speech and jumped down between what looked like seven siblings. One of the redheads was holding Carnathir, who seemed to have different clothes than what he was wearing that morning, and seemed oddly younger. She didn’t realize elves could age once they hit majority.
She slipped through the oddly well-behaved crowd, taking full advantage of her height, which was much below the average there, apparently, and managed to get right next to the siblings.
Maybe it is good that he is unconscious right now, or else he would be having a freakout anyway. I think we got…launched… into the past. Oh, fuck me sideways with a pointy stick, our damn luck.
Ok, what can I do. I don’t even speak the weird language, damn.
Haleth grit her teeth, looking around. The people were tense, some had weapons, some not. Those that had them looked unused to their weight.
It was dark, oddly dark. Not even the stars were visible, some sort of miasma hanging around them all, even if the air smelled fresh, which was honestly odd seeing the amount of stressed people standing around the huge rock from where Feanor had been talking.
What she could do, honestly? Haleth frowned. Caranthir would know more. But he was rather knocked out for the moment.
She sent him a mental jab, like he had shown her to do to alert him, and his eyes fluttered open with a pained grimace. His brothers made some relieved noises, propping him up better, and Feanor nodded once, curtly, some worry leeching off of his frame. He jumped back to his place on the rock, and resumed his speech, voice carrying over the murmuring crowd with ease.
Haleth raised one eyebrow at her husband, who blinked at her sluggishly over the shoulder of one of his black-haired brothers. Sudden understanding lit his eyes and he jerked back from his hold, twisting to look at his father preaching from the rock.
His breathing picked up, and she quickly barged into his mind without much preamble to stave off the impeding freakout.
What do we do.
Don’t. Don’t let him say that damned thing again. He pleaded, for once sending her the information in one clear image instead of a thousand rambling words.
Can I punch him? Haleth suggested, and smiled smugly when he was startled out of his panic.
Do whatever it takes. Just. Don’t kill him.
-Got it. - she whispered out loud, startling the (unfairly tall) elf standing beside her. Narrowing her eyes at Feanaro she waited a few heartbeats until he paced to the side of the rock closer to her and she pounced.
Something was weird with this body she had now, because she shouldn’t be able to leap to the top of the thing in one jump straight from the ground, but somehow she did, landing soundlessly behind the elf.
She was still in her own clothes, bless it. At least the boots caught the rock like she was used to.
Before anybody had time to react, (and what a thought this was, her faster than the average elf!), Haleth grabbed Feanor by the collar of his odd robe-cuirass combo, and her fist met his nose with a satisfying sound.
The entire crowd fell silent, not daring to even draw in a breath. The elf blinked, dazed, looking at her uncomprehending.
She smiled grimly, taking him by his lapels. - Dearest, I don’t speak Weird-Sindarin. Care to explain stuff to them?- she called out to her husband, who scowled, tearing himself out of his eldest brother's grasp. The blonde one looked like he wanted to attack her any moment, but the twins held him back with terrified expressions.
Feanor swallowed harshly in her grip, fingers inching towards the sword at his side that he clearly had never extensively used before. She just raised one eyebrow and grabbed it easily with one hand, holding him by his collar with the other. -You. Stay fucking still. You were about to make the worst decision of your life, and I happen to not enjoy locking Caranthir into a dungeon everytime he thinks too hard about you. - she muttered, drawing the blade. It was light and well-made, for all that it was honestly oddly shaped, like an overly large hunting knife.
A startled shout rang in the crowd, and she shot the gathered elves a look, before chucking the blade away. Caranthir finally managed to escape his brothers and climb onto the rock, hissing some spitfire words to his father.
-Let him go.- he muttered curtly a second after, when Feanor’s eyes widened with surprise, anger gone and replaced by further confusion.
Haleth smiled sharply, and obediently let go. The elf staggered back a step, a trickle of blood slowly dripping from his left nostril, blanching like a sheet, and murmured something incredulously, eyes locked on Caranthir.
********
Feanaro felt his mind reeling, face numb from the unexpected hit.
Who? What…?
He was holding onto sanity by the skin of his teeth ever since his father was murdered , and then Morifinwë collapsed so suddenly, and now this?
His ears rang mildly as he stared incredulously at the diminutive nis holding him by his lapels, eyes void of the Light of the Trees, alien in their emptiness, as she barked something at him in an odd language.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or to laugh.
- Atto, code Hourglass, severity ten.- his fourth son suddenly hissed, climbing upon the rock, and his mind screeched to a halt.
Code Hourglass? But that’s impo…
Feanaro blinked twice, looking deeper into his son’s eyes. Carnistir, his beloved short-tempered boy, had a marriage bond shining in his irises.
The nis holding him let Feanaro go at one short command from him, and he staggered back.
It’s plausible. Oh Manwe’s feathery bollocks.
Ten. Grade ten emergency?
Feanaro had been about to finish his speech with a promise, but the nis decked him square in the face before he even had a chance to beseech his sons to follow his lead.
Ten. Hourglass-ten. Time-travel and disaster.
Moyro looked him in the eyes with such grief Feanaro nearly fell to his knees.
-Is all lost yet?- he managed to whisper, tangentially aware that Kano had started a privacy-song around them upon hearing the code, and Neylafinwë was telling something to the crowd.
-No.- his son shook his head, on the verge of tears. - Haleth got you in time. I don’t know what shall happen now. Tapestry experiment gone wrong, didn’t intend on…this.- he gestured around with one hand.
The nis stood next to him, squeezing his shoulder, and smiled acerbically at Feanaro, pointing one finger at her chest. - Im Haleth.- she said. Moyro leaned in to whisper something in her ear and she made a face, haltingly adding a mispronounced; -Quetin ú quenyo.-
He thought it a little redundant, since there was only one unknown person on the rock at the moment and it was obvious she didn’t speak Quenya, but it was kind nonetheless.
--I'm Feanaro, Morifinwë’s father.- he introduced himself back, and his son snorted mirthlessly.
-She knows that.- he shook his head, and Haleth frowned at him. Taking a deep breath, Moyro looked him in the eyes with a steely expression. - No oaths. No killing other elves. And no leaving half the army on this shore, burning ships, or running after Balrogs alone. - he hissed at him, masking his obvious fear with anger.
Feanaro could only nod, horrified by the implications.
His son turned around, and glared down his brothers. - Code Hourglass, severity ten. Ambarto and Atto dead, Neylo captured by Melko for thirty years. Nobody swear anything or so help me by my mithril sword I will end you. And now excuse me.- he spit out, oddly pale, and promptly fainted, Haleth catching him easily.
All eyes snapped to her, and she shrugged. - Quetin ú quenyo. - she announced cheerfully again.
Feanaro sighed. He wanted Nerdanel. And a hug from his father. And maybe to chuck the damn crown into the sea and just storm Angband.
Fuck