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Date: 2006-10-12 12:53 am (UTC)
dawn_felagund: (feanorians)
From: [personal profile] dawn_felagund
I understood their torments in the literal sense, certainly. For Rumil, he was one of the original captured by Melkor, and such tales were part of the lore that my father used to study. I will admit that when I was older, I used to sneak into his study to look at these books. I don't know why. They made me sick, yet I had to know.

Given this, I had a good idea what would be my brother's fate when he was captured. But at night, I could not resist sending my thoughts to him, and he reluctantly communicated with me because he knew that I would not leave him until he did, and he didn't want me to know what was done to him. I knew far more than he suspected, and I didn't sleep many nights because of it. But what was my torment to his?

In terms of understanding how it affected the Elves that they are, their spirits, if you will...this I tried to understand, but it was beyond my comprehension. Nelyo was like a jigsaw puzzle put together whole, then scrunched up into pieces, then put back together wrongly somehow. I would look into his thoughts when he didn't know that I was there. He connected things in strange ways. Emotions arose from places where they did not belong. It is hard to explain to a mortal who does not know osanwe. I suppose that I understood more than my brothers who only knew that he was prone to illogic and not apt to be talked out of it or that he would be filled with rage or grief or joy for no reason at all...sometimes, I could perceive the causes of these things. But usually, I could not.

Rumil I believe sees beauty differently than the rest of us because he has seen the ugliest sights in the world. There would be times that I would walk with him, and we would be trudging through a meadow, and I could feel him wishing me to stop so that I would not tread on the grasses and flowers and leave the butterflies and insects in peace. These things he saw as beautiful, and I saw them as ordinary. He would stand for hours, if I would let him. But this appreciation, I believe, was borne of his torment, and so I could never truly understand.
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