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With Silver and Tears by Suzene Campos "Father, it is time." A pair of overbright, sky-hued eyes remained fixed on the world outside the narrow window that ran from the vaulted ceiling to very near the floor. The city beyond the glass was splendid beyond words in the dawnlight, but those ancient eyes spared it no glance, following instead the flight of a dove towards the radiant horizon. The owner of those eyes, a tall, fair and perfect elf, watched as the bird fluttered into the distance, it's white feathers glowing in the growing light, until it was only a pinprick against the blazing sun. If the dulcet hail had reached him, he gave no sign. The footfalls approaching from behind echoed through the halls of judgement with volume belying the lightness and grace of their mistress and still he did not turn. Finally, even the eyes of a god could not bear the full brilliance of the sun, and Corellon Larethian dropped his gaze to the marble tiling of the floor instead, then to the toes of his boots, lest his gaze catch some errant reflection from the highly-polished stone. "Father, will you not even look at me?" "No," he stated simply. "It would break my heart to see the taint of your mother's evil upon you." They had turned against him, his wife and son. They had betrayed the Seldarine, sought to pull down all the deities of the elven pantheon. They had corrupted many of the elves and brought full into Corellon's sight the weaknesses in the race grown up from the first drops of his own blood to spill upon the young world of Toril, the people whom Corellon had loved best. With the aid of other dark gods and those corrupt elves, Araushnee and Vhaeraun had moved against Arvandor itself, seeking to usurp leadership of the Seldarine over his lifeless body. Taking up arms against those dearest to him had nearly torn Corellon's heart down the center, but it seemed that those hurts must somehow mend. But his daughter, Eilistraee... The Dark Maiden she was called, so named for her sloe hair and quick moods -- quick to laugh, quick to dance, and quick to strike out at any harm done to her family and people. Like her mother, she could be aloof and inscrutable one moment, then show her heart plainly the next, but there had never been anything but goodness about Eilistraee. Her fate was a cruel irony, a note of bitter laughter sharpened to a keen edge and thrust deep into a heart already wounded. Eilistraee's slim, strong hand upon his own and Corellon closed his eyes quickly, lest he catch sight of her skin. 'You would lose more of the elves if they knew their god to be such a coward, Larethian.' Araushnee, Vhaeraun, and all those under Corellon's purview who had aided in the murderous uprising had been marked, made as dark outside as they were within, their hair given the same hue as sun-bleached bone. Never again would the traitorous worshipers of Araushnee and her accursed spiders move unnoticed among those that they had wronged. Never again would they be able to show their faces in the sun without shame. And, though blameless of wrongdoing in the eyes of her father and his court, Eilistraee had demanded the same punishment. "You need not leave Arvandor," Corellon whispered. He brought his daughter's hand to his cheek, though he still would not -- could not -- look upon her. "I do not deserve to remain. Whether I was ignorant of mother's true intentions or not, the damage is done. Would you be so quick to forgive a murderess simply because she is your daughter?" "It is not the same. Your brother could beg me for forgiveness and I would still send him to exile. He knew full well what he did. You were deceived." Her hand slipped from his and Corellon nearly cried out for the sense of loss that flooded him. He reached out blindly for his daughter, caught her arm, and pulled her into a desperate embrace. "Those who were dearest to me now stand as my bitter foes. Must I lose you as well?" With his eyes closed, there seemed to be no difference to the young woman in his arms. The subtle perfume of lilies and wild violets still lingered about her hair. Her frame, so much like his own, slender, strong, and lithe, meant for motions of battle and beauty, was unchanged. He had passed sentence over the traitors and Eilistraee himself, but he did not want to believe that there was any change in his child. More than anything, he had wanted her to come through this strife untouched, though he knew it could not be so. "I must." Her voice was soft, but steady. She did not struggle against his embrace, but neither did she tuck her head beneath his chin and lean into him as she always did. Corellon knew then that her heart would not be swayed, not if he fell to his knees and pleaded. "I must atone for my part in this. And...though I am loved here, I am not needed. My mother's people will not love me, but their children will need me." "You dream." "Even you must realize that young ones do not take the same path as their parents." Somehow, Eilistraee had spark enough to smile; he could hear it in her words. "Father, I must go now. The others have already been sent away." It took more courage to open his eyes than any battle had ever asked of him, but Corellon could not let his daughter leave Arvandor without looking upon her again. His heart tore open as he gazed upon her ebony skin and the eyes and hair that had been stripped of all hue, a reminder of betrayal still painfully fresh. Corellon found himself grateful for the tears that blurred his sight. Eilistraee was innocent, deceived by her mother as much as any of the other Seldarine. It was not right that she be indistinguishable from her traitorous kin! Blue eyes closed again and Corellon lay his cheek atop his child's head as his tears at last coursed down his cheeks to darken that shameful white mane. "You are not forsaken. Know that you go from the shores of Arvandor with your father's love." One delicate finger reached up to trace a cool crescent across Corellon's cheek. "And you, know that Eilistraee bears naught but respect and love for Corellon Larethian as she goes. As you hold me blameless, so should you hold yourself. Nothing would stay me from my path." She stepped away from him then, a movement that was a small dance in itself, and he could not hold her. Corellon straightened up and wiped his eyes...and, incredibly, smiled. "You will bear your father's love in more than words," said he, for Eilistraee's locks were no longer white. Instead, the silken tumble now shone silver, shimmering like the stars furthest from the moon, bright as the sheen of a god's tears on ebony fingertips. The maiden examined one radiant lock and answered her father's smile with one of her own. "It will reflect moonlight well," she said simply. Then she was gone and Corellon, the First of the Seldarine, stood alone in his hall once more. END ===================================== General Archive/Author Info: 'Fic list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SCMS_fic/ Homepage: http://members.aol.com/dhayhurst3 LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/suzene
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