Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Tolkien, except the tale that is told.
Author´s notes: This tale takes place in the First Age of Middle-earth, in the year 529 of the sun. This was the year when (according to the HoMe 5: The Lost Road) the remaining sons of Fëanor were attacking Elwing´s folk that lived at the Mouth of Sirion.
It is 6 years out of canon, for Elrond and his twin Elros should have been four years old then, not ten. But those are distant concerns, or so I think.
A list of translations is provided at the end of the story.
I bid to apologize any errors... English is not my native language and I was not able to find a beta-reader yet...
Enjoy and please leave a review ;)
I thêl en aer
It was dark outside already and the stars were beginning to glow brigthly. The havens at the Mouths of Sirion lay in the deep silence of the night and only the gentle murmur of the wind and waves dared to break the stillness. The lamps at the cais were lit, to guard the way of homecoming sailors, should there be such. Light came from the windows of the ornate buildings. Inside one of them, an elven-lady was beginning to loose her patience.
"Hush now, Elrond. It is time for you to rest.", she sighed and watched the firstborn of her twinsons. His brother, Elros, was already fast asleep. His eyes were closed and the little hands were curled to fists in his dreams.
She smiled. Elros was so much like his father, Eärendil the half-elf and even though the blood of men in his veins was mingled with that of the Elder Race, he was human in many ways. Like his father.
Her attention was drawn back to Elrond in this moment, who had climbed out of the bed and was trying to steal away.
"I see you. Do not make any more step in the wrong direction, nîn tithen thalion."
Elrond frowned and looked at Elwing with pleading grey eyes.
"But mother, I am not tired, so why do you force me to rest?", he asked accusingly. She could not help but smile at his words. "For you are but a child and in need of sleep. Please come back to the bed now, little one." She schooled her face and shot a stern glance in his direction.
"I am a child no more, mother, for I have passed nine years already and can wield a sword!" The child smiled triumphantly, but was suddenly grabbed and tucked in bed. Not knowing what else to, he refused to fall asleep and even though he could not surpress a yawn, his eyes remained open.
"Will you tell me a story?"
Sighing, the daughter of Dior and Nimloth agreed, seeing that there was no other way to keep him quiet and from waking his brother. She sat down beside him on the bed, flickering candlelight played with the contours of her face.
"Fine. I will tell you a tale that is called I thêl en aer, the sister of the sea."
The young one listened and was silent, his eyes were wide with wonder already. Elwing continued speaking. "Of old it was a song, but I do not know all the verses anymore. It will have to do when I tell it to you. Mayhap some of the magic of the song remains in the spoken words... and maybe images of the tale shall come to life before your very eyes. Listen closely."
And then she began to speak, with a voice soft and melodic, yet tinged with with a deep sadness she always felt when remembering the Elder Days.
"Once, it is not told how many years ago, there was a tribe of men. In a long and perilous journey, for the forces of Morgoth roamed the lands, they had traveled through all Beleriand, until they came to the Mouths of Sirion, where we now dwell.
Already, some of Lord Círdan´s folk had traveled hither from the Isle of Balar - one of them was a young maiden, blonde-haired, named Faelint - swift spirit - and she was the one to discover the camp of the Edain.
It was evening and they had lit fires, celebrating their safe arrival in this place. Suddenly, amid the singing and dancing, Faelint appeared and stared at them in wonder. The music ceased and all eyes were drawn to the maiden, for she was fair to look upon and many a man desired her.
But there was only one, a young adult, who looked upon her with a true lover´s eyes... and that from the very first moment on, when their gazes had met across the fire.
Ashai was his name, the son of the tribe´s leader.
Afraid that Faelint might escape, he cast a spell upon her. Her fear vanished and she, who had wanted to flee, stayed with him through the night. They understood little of what the other said, but the hours they spent together were happy ones. Yet, when the morning´s dawn touched Faelint´s face, the spell was broken and swiftly she disappeared... only to come back to Ashai in the middle of the night that followed.
Long this went on, but her nightly vanishings were not alltogether unknown. A young elf, who also loved her, followed the maiden one night and saw all what happened. He perceived Faelint and Ashai together... and his heart was breaking. Hurt and jealous, he reported all she had done to her father. Enraged, her sire denied Faelint to leave the house and forbade her ever to see Ashai again, for he feared that his daughter would suffer the same fate as our foremother, Lúthien and die indeed to leave the world."
For a moment she stopped and looked to her son. Elwing had hoped that he would have fallen asleep by now, for the tale seemed not appropriate for children to her... it would surely frighten him, if he got to know what had happened next. But still he was awake, even though he was fighting to keep his eyes open.
"Could you see what I told you?", she asked him, hoping to distract him from the story. Elrond nodded. "I could see Faelint and Ashai and everything you told me", he answered, smiling happily. "She is very beautiful, just like you are, mother."
Gently, Elwing stroked his dark head. "Thank you, nîn ion. But now it really is time for you to sleep. I can see that you are tired."
Not caring for what she had said, Elronds looked at her pleadingly.
Silently Elwing cursed, for she had never been able to deny one of her sons anything, when they looked at her with that particular gaze.
"As I said, I am still convinced that this tale is not for children to hear, but since you claim to be a child no more, I will continue telling you. But do not blame me for your nightmares, if there are such to come.
The young half-elf smiled at his mother brightly. "Thank you so much, naneth. I will not blame you, worry not."
The raven-haired elven-lady smiled at her son son in return, then cleared her throat and began to speak once more.
"As it was said, Faelint was betrayed by another out of jealousy. But he did not only tell her father, but also went to the tribe´s leader, Ashai´s sire, for he knew that the man was not happy with his son´s behaviour. And so, together they made a plan.
The betrayer, whose name was fitting, Maranwe - destiny - after that once again sought audience from Faelint´s father, telling him of his feelings for his daughter and that the men had wandered away north. Maranwe bid him to let her go. Faelint once again was set free.
The tribe was gone indeed, hiding in the birch-woods of Nimbrethil, waiting for a sign to start an attack. For, in his heart, that had been poisoned by the words of the vile servants of Morgoth, Ashai´ s father had thought of ways to destroy the elves living at the Mouths of Sirion. Using his son he planned to take Faelint captive, to exact pressure and then to invade the havens. The land was rich, or so he had been told and he had been promised to be allowed to settle there.
So it happened. As soon as Faelint was..."
"Mother, nothing will happen to her, will it?", a small voice interrupted her. The covers were clutched tight in Elrond´s hands and drawn up to his chin. But still he was awake and listening.
"You will know it when you let me tell the tale. If you have changed your mind, just say it now."
He shook his head wildly.
Hesitantly, Elwing spoke on, for now the sad part of the tale began.
"As soon as Faelint was released, she went to the former meeting place of Ashai and her, not believing that he had gone indeed.
All happened as planned. She was taken and bound with iron chains, as was her lover. At night the host of men invaded the havens, not fearing anything, for no one dared to attack them, for Faelint´s sake. Our people fled by ship and victory for their foes seemed certain.
But then, when dawn came over the land, a fleet of Lord Círdan´s ships was sent and the tribe´s leader was slain, but they could not free Faelint and Ashai. In secret, two of the remaining men took them and cast them into the sea.
Still bound with the iron around their wrists and ankles, the two lovers´ fate should have been death. For a part, it was. They sunk into the sea and Ashai was drowned. Faelint was forced to watch, helplessly, for her heart still kept on beating, even though she had no air to breathe. So she was lying in the deep, cold water and could not be found by those that sought for her in vain.
She closed her eyes desperately, hoping this to be a dream from which she would wake up every moment. It was not.
Slowly, but surely her body changed and by the grace of the Valar, she was an elf no longer, but did become the sister of the sea and with a fish´s tail she swims. But when she touches the dry land above the waves, her legs appear again and she walks on the shore, clad in silken robes.
But it is told that she only does this, when an ill fate draws near, to warn those living here. They also say that you can hear her sing at night, when you look out on the sea."
With those words Elwing ended the tale.
Surprisingly, her son had fallen asleep now, with a content smile on his face... probably because he thought to have bested his mother in their little battle of wills. He was slumbering deeply beside his brother now, the dark-grey eyes looking up to ceiling unseeing.
Later that evening, Elwing stood at the haven´s edge, the chill wind was playing with her garmets and her raven hair. She looked west, hoping to see the sails and masts of Vingilot appear on the horizon. She missed Eärendil greatly, who had journeyed to find Valinor and his parents.
Suddenly, a tall figure, who appeared to glow in the moonlight, could be seen not too far away.
She looked at Elwing directly, the long blonde hair flowing and the dark eyes piercing the lady´s thoughts. She smiled sadly, raised her hand in a gentle greeting and disappeared into the waves again.
Translations:
I thêl en aer - The Sister of the Sea
Nîn tithen thalion - My little hero, a nickname of Elwing for Elrond
Nîn ion - My son
Naneth - Mother
Vingilot - Flower of the Foam, the name of Eärendil´s ship.