The "Kind" Sun God
Beren Aslan put down her book, done reading.
It was two in the morning. This was the third time she stayed up late, reading, in a row. If this went on, she didn't know how she would be keeping up her studies.
What would her dad think if he knew she was up late at night reading fantasy?
Great example she was setting for her sister.
But studies could always wait.
Reading was something she could never stop doing once she started.
She wasn't all that satisfied with this particular story, however, for she felt it was undeserved.
It read the story of two lovers, one mortal, and the other a demigod.
Beren, the mortal man she shared a name with had fallen for Lúthien Tinúviel, a half maja, who was immortal.
Falling for Beren, the princess was forced to give up on immortality, and spend one lifetime with Beren; when without him, she had had a happy life of forever with her family.
How selfish could one be?Beren had brought about the death of his best friend Finrod Felagund, destroyed the life of his lover, all for his dumb quest, always going on, no matter the consequences it had on others; always biting off more than he could chew, each time for Lúthien to sweep in and save his ass for him.
She felt that even though Elu Thingol (father of Lúthien) was a bit harsh, he was justified with wanting to have Beren killed.
Beren had no idea why she was so invested in this one character she only ever shared a name with.
Trying to rid her brain of the sticky man, Beren wanted to sleep.
It was already 2:30 and she needed to be up at 6:45 for the rest tomorrow.
So she quickly draped her blanket over herself, hoping that four hours would be enough sleep for the test.
_______________
When Beren woke up next morning, she was no longer in her soft bed and drowning in warm blankets.
Beren didn't know that at first, however, trying to pull the curtains to block the harsh sunlight beating down on her.
When her hands closed in on thin air, and fell where there should have been a wall, Beren realised something was wrong.
She sat up, digging her knuckles into her eyes, trying to wake herself up.
The bed seemed to be uncommonly hard.
Probably because it was the bare earth, and not the usual soft down mattress.
Beren was swaddled in a thin grey cloak that was suspiciously soft and warm for how ragged it looked.
Beren threw it back, looking down at herself, and yelled out in horror; for Beren's body was no longer what she was always used to.
Her shoulders were broader, chest flatter, hips narrower, and limbs long and lean instead of the usual short and soft.
No surprise, as she now had the body of a man.
But of course people who are dreaming don't usually know at the time; so it was all very real. But the girl was indeed having a hard time believing what she saw at the time.
In a frenzy, Beren ripped off her clothes, which was harder than usual, for the blouse and trousers the girl was now wearing had sturdy breeches and secure laces.
In a minute, Beren stood bare in just her knee high boots and grey cloak.
She stared down at her body, dumbfounded.
The girl's body was indeed now that of a man.
Chest firm but flat, tanned skin, torso covered in a golden fuzz.
Between her legs she was afraid to look or touch.
Pointedly staring away, gathering courage, slowly she reached down, gingerly feeling the soft fuzzy growth.
She inched lower, and where she was used to feeling a dip, she felt a rise. Where there should have been nothing, her fingers closed round a shaft of flesh.
She was quite understandably shaken at the thought of a different set of genitalia.
Slowly peeking she confirmed that she indeed had a penis.
Unnecessary disgusted, she closed her legs to hide the painful view.
Beren's silent reverie was broken when a woman's voice sounded.
"Thou art a strange creature indeed!" The mellow chuckling voice rumbled out. "Not a response I hadst anticipated..."
Beren had no idea who that was?
Quite justifiably bewildered, Beren quickly covered herself up with her cloak, feeling (not without reason) stupid for baring herself in the open like that.
Like a frightened rabbit, Beren's eyes darted all over, looking for the one responsible for the words.
"Who is there!?" She squeaked out.
Her voice deeper than she was used to, and croaky from lack of use.
"Fear not good child, for thou art unseen;" The voice was warm and deep, even motherly, coming from everywhere, neither loud nor soft; indeed, if Beren had been paying attention, it was not a material sound at all, and anyone but Beren could not have heard it.
"I dwell only in the realm of thy thought, and eyes shall not perceive me."
For some reason, or because she was naive and trusting, Beren felt that this person was trying to help; someone with her best interests.
Relaxing, perhaps relaxing too much, she asked "Who are you?"
"I hath many names. Some doth call me the Light, forsome I am the Fire, or Sol. But in truth I am not the fire. I only guard it, for I am guardian of the light, Arien."
Arien was a maia, the maia in charge of the light of the sun. But Beren did not remember this- yet.
So, not really understanding, Beren nodded, still very much confused.
"Thou I have summoned forth from thy tranquil existence to lend me thine aid. Know that thou art no longer Beren Aslan, for henceforth thou shalt be known as Beren, son of Barahir."
Beren did remember Beren son of Barahir. The irritating mortal who had gone on the fruitless quest to get a Silmaril.
The one she had hated. The very one she had been unhealthily obsessed with.
Now her obsession didn't seem all that unnecessary, did it?
"Wh-What the actual fuck?" Beren was very understandably confused.
Arien was quite patient; such shocks took a long time to sink in. Her tone understanding and sympathetic, she spoke to the mortal "I am aware of the difficulty that lies before thee, yet I do reiterate, thou art now the Son of Barahir. I have a task of import for thee; wilt thou grant me thy aid?"
Beren was not listening; and Beren was not used to this weird Shakespearean English."Do you know how I can go back home? Can you help me go back?"
Arien smiled. But of course Beren, or anybody else for that matter, did not see it. "Why thy haste, good fellow? I shall send thee home in good time. But foremost, I need thy aid, as I said ere now. What does thou reckon brought thee to this place? Thou hast been summoned to do a trifling task for me. When 'tis finished, thou shalt be off home straightaway."
Finally it clicked into Beren jumbled head. She was held, against her will, by this very "Arien", completely at her mercy.
Resigning to her fate, Beren finally asked; asked the question Arien was waiting for.
"What do you want me to do?"
Arien's smile widened. The knot in her stomach loosened. She was finally resolving the issue with her health. "Oh, 'tis but a wee favor I ask of thee; fetch me the Silmarils, three, of them."