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crack_van2005-01-18 11:03 pm
espresso-addict.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-01-18 11:03 pm
Entry tags:
Across Dark Waters by Zimraphel (PG)
Fandom: SILMARILLION
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
granamyr
Author Website: Armenelos
Why this must be read:
Yet another look at everyone's favourite Bad Boy -- but from a rather different viewpoint. Zimraphel's Greek mythology-inspired take on the Halls of Mandos works surprisingly well; the author terms it AU, but I didn't feel the label was essential -- after all, post-death experiences need not be experienced in the same way by everyone. The setting is depicted sparingly yet atmospherically.
It's really a dialogue piece, and the dialogue between Maeglin & ... I shan't spoil the suspense ... is sharp & meaningful. I felt Maeglin's antagonist is particularly well characterised. Maeglin's final comeuppence, and his attitude to it, are simply inspired! Original & memorable, 'Across Dark Waters' deserves the attention that's been heaped upon it.
The boat was white, a ghostly shape gliding along the black water. A figure, wrapped in wisps of gray cloth, hunched in middle to pull at the oars. Maeglin splashed ankle-deep into the water to meet the vessel, grasping it with both hands as if to pull it to him.
“Are you so eager to reach the other shore, then?” asked the figure.
“It’s far better than waiting here.”
“Then climb in, son of Eöl, and we will depart.”
Maeglin clambered over the side and slid into the bottom of the boat, where he took a place across from the oarsman. Dark water dripped from his legs and pooled around his feet, but he paid it no mind. He was already cold and miserable. “Who are you?”
“I am Námo’s ferryman,” came the reply. Under the gray rags, it was difficult to tell what manner of creature he was, whether Firstborn, mortal or one of the lesser Maia. He was pale and nearly amorphous, save for his eyes, twin dark fires that burned as they inspected their latest passenger.
“I did not know He had a ferryman.” Maeglin’s gaze swept the dark lake. The mist had risen and he could not see the shore they had left behind, or the one that lay ahead of them. “I thought—”
“What did you think? That you would hear Námo’s call and that you would close your eyes and—poof!—the very next moment you are a wisp of pale sheen in His hall, hearing His judgment? Ah, there is much you do not know about Mandos, and with good reason.”
Maeglin felt a sudden chill of apprehension. He had not expected mercy from the judge of the Dead, that was true, but the Halls were a place of atonement and healing. Only mortals believed in torment after death. “I could have refused the summons,” he answered thickly.
“Yes, you could have refused, but that was before you stepped in the boat.”
Across Dark Waters
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:
granamyrAuthor Website: Armenelos
Why this must be read:
Yet another look at everyone's favourite Bad Boy -- but from a rather different viewpoint. Zimraphel's Greek mythology-inspired take on the Halls of Mandos works surprisingly well; the author terms it AU, but I didn't feel the label was essential -- after all, post-death experiences need not be experienced in the same way by everyone. The setting is depicted sparingly yet atmospherically.
It's really a dialogue piece, and the dialogue between Maeglin & ... I shan't spoil the suspense ... is sharp & meaningful. I felt Maeglin's antagonist is particularly well characterised. Maeglin's final comeuppence, and his attitude to it, are simply inspired! Original & memorable, 'Across Dark Waters' deserves the attention that's been heaped upon it.
The boat was white, a ghostly shape gliding along the black water. A figure, wrapped in wisps of gray cloth, hunched in middle to pull at the oars. Maeglin splashed ankle-deep into the water to meet the vessel, grasping it with both hands as if to pull it to him.
“Are you so eager to reach the other shore, then?” asked the figure.
“It’s far better than waiting here.”
“Then climb in, son of Eöl, and we will depart.”
Maeglin clambered over the side and slid into the bottom of the boat, where he took a place across from the oarsman. Dark water dripped from his legs and pooled around his feet, but he paid it no mind. He was already cold and miserable. “Who are you?”
“I am Námo’s ferryman,” came the reply. Under the gray rags, it was difficult to tell what manner of creature he was, whether Firstborn, mortal or one of the lesser Maia. He was pale and nearly amorphous, save for his eyes, twin dark fires that burned as they inspected their latest passenger.
“I did not know He had a ferryman.” Maeglin’s gaze swept the dark lake. The mist had risen and he could not see the shore they had left behind, or the one that lay ahead of them. “I thought—”
“What did you think? That you would hear Námo’s call and that you would close your eyes and—poof!—the very next moment you are a wisp of pale sheen in His hall, hearing His judgment? Ah, there is much you do not know about Mandos, and with good reason.”
Maeglin felt a sudden chill of apprehension. He had not expected mercy from the judge of the Dead, that was true, but the Halls were a place of atonement and healing. Only mortals believed in torment after death. “I could have refused the summons,” he answered thickly.
“Yes, you could have refused, but that was before you stepped in the boat.”
Across Dark Waters