Chapter 1
There was a flurry of spellfire, and all she could think was that it was beautiful. Terrible, to be sure, but beautiful. That it reminded her of words on pages of muggle fiction, of two trees that spilled light, one golden and one silver, well she didn’t think that thought for very long. A flash of sickly green burst through the striking gold and silver, and she saw no more.
Being born was not something she would ever have wished to experience with a conscious mind, but she did. And she wasn’t alone!
She had a twin, and from what her blurry infant eyes could tell, he had dark hair. She wondered what she looked like.
A year later, she knew. She was silver-haired like their mother—who had died not long after giving them life—where her twin brother had dark, black hair. Both had silver eyes with stars flecked within, and the words spoken around them gave her pause.
She understood some of them but thought perhaps she was dreaming instead of having truly died and been reborn. Quenya should not have been spoken by others as if it were their native tongue, and her understanding of it was merely scholarly due to a phase from her previous childhood. Fictionally scholarly. She must be dreaming.
Curufinwë Fëeanáro, High Prince of the Noldor, future king and Dreadful Oath Maker, was her younger twin brother.
This should not be. Nothing in what she read in the life she knew she had lived before mentioned her existence. Curufinwë Fëanáro was supposed to be an only child. He was not supposed to be a twin. Was she the true reason why Míriel ðerindë gave up her life in the Blessed Realm? She could not bear the burden if it was true, even if what she had read before being born to this life said it would have happened regardless. Here, Míriel had died sooner, only days after the birth of her twins.
Why?
When her father, Finwë Ñoldorán remarried, and what a scandal that was, she was supportive. She had known he would, and would not show dissension against his decision. Her twin brother, however, resented it greatly. Fëanáro did not like Indis solely because she was not Míriel. Tyelmíre did not understand her twin’s mindset. She thought Indis was nice and incredibly kind. And very forgiving of their father for having married before. She knew the Eldar usually only married once, and she understood the Statue. But Fëanáro was unconvinced.
Tyelmíre’s father could barely look at her the more she grew for she was the spitting image of her mother. She had the same silver hair, the same bright, star-pointed, grey eyes, and the same slender hands and build. Fëanáro had the same eyes as well, but otherwise took after their father with his dark locks, and tall, broad build. Sometimes, Tyelmíre wished she did not look so much like her late mother. Indis for sure saw the resemblance and was therefore shy around her newest step-daughter. Tyelmíre did like Indis, however, even if her twin did not.
The contention between the eldest of Finwë’s children did not go unnoticed. But Fëanáro was the Noldor’s Prince, where Tyelmíre was merely their Princess. She knew he would always be the more beloved of their people between them.
Things were worse when Indis bore children.
Sure, Findis, was fine. She was after all merely another Noldorin Princess. But when Nolofinwë Aracáno was born, Feanáro became paranoid. He had an elder twin sister, and then a younger half-sister. Neither of which would contest his right as High Prince of the Noldor, but his newest half-brother could do so. After all, his mother was living still, and Queen of the Noldor. Tyelmíre knew this outright rejection of kinship would come to no good end, it was obvious to any, should have been, even if one did not have the foresight she was granted upon her birth.
Oh, how Tyelmíre wished she could counsel her twin against the path he was and would continue to take. But he refused to listen, especially as Tyelmíre had never sided with him against their father remarrying. The only saving grace for her was that she had a good relationship with all her siblings. Fëanáro was not happy with her good standing with their half-siblings, but Tyelmíre was his only full-blood sister, and that meant something to him which she could not truly understand.
She thought it was a shame that her twin did not embrace his entire family with open arms. He did not love his other sisters very much, and worse, his brothers not at all—though he tolerated Ingoldo more than Aracáno—as siblings should.