"And so he left Tol Sirion for the other shore - with orcs running before him and the bridge crumbling in his footsteps. Myself on the other hand... I told the island that it was free to go, that it had fulfilled its promises and need make no more effort. After what the nameless one had accomplished there, I felt the island respond with relief. Maybe it will last a year, perhaps even a decade... but its will to stand is broken. Sand will leave first, ice will pry rocks apart, land will shift underneath and Tol Sirion as we knew it will crumble."

"I cannot thank you enough, Findarato", Luthien added, having heard what had passed at the island.

At that, Beren added.

"And please, permit me to give back your ring. My heirs, if there be any, won't be needing it. Your balance with my father is more than settled now, for without your presence, I would have hardly reached the river unharmed by countless orcs. Had I reached it, I could not have hidden myself from that creature nor his servants, nor could I have turned back and fled. It would have been my death, and nothing fast or heroic. The way he crushed my and our companions' will with mere words, it still shakes me. Do you really know him of old times? What kind of magic have you learnt that made it possible for you to fight him off?"

"I'd have fallen too, just slower. All that mattered was that the island knew me and the river trusted my word. I had spoken with them often, had been their friend for long. I had designed the bridges and built a lot that still withstood. The only card I could play that he could not match and raise agaist, was the off chance of the island agreeing to break and the river agreeing to flood. As for the magic, you need not look far... to find a way to its source."

He'd have done well in card games, Beren thought... for not a glimpse of a gesture pointed...

"You learnt it from my mother?"

"Lady Melian has taught many a skill to people. It was no accident that your father, whom they then called Elwë, found her song beautiful enough to declare his love for her, without even seeing her at that point. I am likewise hopeful that she's taught a few of her skills to you."

She blushed a bit, not like humans but a tiny bit of color flickered here and there.

"She has. I have practised a bit and liked singing as a cheerful passtime... but only recently has it dawned to me what consequences word can effect in dire situations. That point of view remained hidden to me, for nothing dire dared to approach my parents' wood. Now that we must walk the open road with Beren, things are different."

"But how are your plans? Would you like to remain for longer, or does that road call you soon? On my part, you can remain in Nargothrond as long as suits your needs. A journey such as yours may benefit from careful planning."

They exchanged a glance and Finrod, remembering his sister, wondered if the glance contained words. Then Luthien spoke.

"From what I understand, the creature Sauron read Beren's mind, and may have read more."

Beren confirmed. "I felt his presence in my mind incredibly invasive, and he knows about our task. It would only be prudent to guess that he knows about you, about your parents, about Nargothrond and its defenses, and every detail of my plan... but none of yours."

"He likely has excellent memory too", Finrod added. "I knew him and admired his skill, back in Valinor. He worked in Aule's household, if that factory of everything can fairly be called a household. To say it all, he was Aule's right hand in most demanding jobs, and appeared to trace a rising path so fast and colorful that I had difficulty explaining to myself how I should not feel envy but joy. After all, if someone does complete with excellence what you merely planned to try, then effort has been spared for other works."

"Mother has mentioned him in passing. I will not make the mistake of underestimating that person."

Finrod added that Sauron would likely have messengers at call. Birds, bats and other flying creatures were likely amenable to his persuasive word. If he deemed the plan serious, which he would now after losing his fort, he would send word to the dark king. After word reached Angband, dim indeed would be any hope. Finrod advised them to abandon their plan. He cared for his friends and didn't want them to die.

They agreed to meet again tomorrow morning, as thought is clear at sunrise. Dinner was finished and Finrod needed to attend urgent matters. Beren wondered how many of those included compiling lists of what Sauron could have pillaged from his mind and could exploit for ill. Doubtless Finrod had feathered messengers too, and some would find their services sought now. He leant back on a big armchair more worthy of being called bed, with Luthien on his lap. Halfway between wakefulness and sleep, he wondered again how one so cute and relatively diminutive was more capable of swimming among sharks than he among minnows.

"What was your plan, Beren? Tell me as much as you can."

"I will... but hear me please on two matters first... I wish to know your thoughts about them, though I recall we talked of this before my misadventure."

"Of course. Things change..."

"First of all, I have this faint but realistic feeling that Finrod is right. That some creature of Sauron has already reached Angband and told his king everything he needs to spring a trap against us, maybe even attack Nargothrond."

"He is currently spread thin, attacking Nargothrond would come later in his plans. But traps he loves, and perhaps on some level, the entirety of his rampage in Valinor was a provocation, an invitation to descend to his level, and a trap for anyone who might follow. Feanor he knew, and for all his skill in crafts and knowledge of the world, Feanor's personality was uncompromising and direct."

"You think it was a planned invitation for Feanor to follow in pursuit?"

"There certainly was a plan, and hard-negotiated at that, which failed in the end. In the end, after double-crossing that spider, Morgoth himself needed saviours - his gang of demons and that ever-watchful Sauron. To believe that there was a single plan to extinguish or steal all light, would do no justice to his ability. Even in madness, he is a spirit whom many would call god. Perhaps his only disadvantage is his habit of forcing his will without stopping to think. But let's leave this for later, it's rather depressing. You had some second matter?"

"For me, life has contained very little to lose... and during that time I have lived reckless. I have taken many chances... a mortal with nothing to lose is liable to act so. We either die trying... or die anyway, almost as quick from your viewpoint. Perhaps the only things which stop us being rash are family and friends, people who need us and obligations we have."

"You mean to say that you cannot now be as daring now as you have been before."
"I mean to say it somehow. And surely you guess the reason."

"I guess and understand. I can tell you something of elves in return. You see, there is a belief... perhaps an unfounded belief for most, but well-founded for those informed of it first-hand, which I am not... that even when we get ourselves killed, we don't die properly. Instead we get mopped up by Namo and spend the rest of eternity in his somewhat less than fashionable halls for the dead... unless it gets crowded or we are deemed healed, in which case we get dumped straight on the streets of Valinor. So don't worry, we do live reckless when excrement hits the fast-spinning wheel." (He smiled at the attempt of taking over human styles in humor.) "My biggest concern is exactly that. There have been no observations of mortals hanging out in the halls of the dead. Where the dwarves sleep their so-called long sleep, nobody knows. Where your people's spirits go, or whether they go anywhere at all, I cannot tell. I cannot believe they disappear entirely, for it runs counter to all my intuition as your equal... it bothers me so much that I'd be ready to beat the answer out of Morgoth if I only could, but I doubt he has it, and if he did he'd lie. But in the worst case, maybe we aren't equal and cannot walk together. After what happens between us here, in this life here and now... it could be that our fates go apart forever. Perhaps to nothingness, perhaps to eternity, but alone. I think we are already doomed, are we not? The only question might be - what do we make of this?"

Beren didn't know what to say. He had no first-hand information from Valinor. He had barely an idea of what Namo was, for his people had entertained different beliefs, which he personally didn't want to offend and throw by the wayside, but couldn't take seriously any more.

The fact that elves were not only twice as light (he could carry Luthien on one arm) and twice as strong (she could carry Beren on one arm), could hear an orc sneeze a mile away on a quiet night, and cross that mile unheard at three times human speed... and had practically indestructible spirits... had fallen on him out of the blue during his friendship and falling in love with Luthien, and he was not only sure of her sincerity, but the quality of her sources.

He just hugged her and while it felt good, and he hoped it felt likewise to her... he didn't know an answer worth saying.


They seriously considered things that night. Leaving behind Doriath and settling someplace far from war, away from the realm of her father, likewise far from Feanorians (he wondered if he should consider Finrod a Feanorian - it felt terribly awkward)... perhaps alone, perhaps among humans (he imagined the prejudice after awe, the poverty and disease which Luthien said could be all changed and that she wanted to change such things), perhaps among elves (she imagined the nosiness and condescending attitude, except perhaps among green elves, but all elves weren't counted for and neither were their attitudes all charted), perhaps dwarves (they both imagined practical indifference but constant noise and dim light, for dwarves had different sensibilities than Finrod in their urban planning - rarely bothering to guide sunlight along mirrors and prisms, instead burning great quanities of refined fuels and making admittedly quite wonderful glowing dyes, so faint glow remained even after fires had gone out). At least they did't consider settling among orcs. But Luthien was from Doriath, and had been of Doriath for longer than Beren's tribe had named themselves the same people... and time seemed short to her while plentifully long to him. Perhaps she imagined against hope that the slower flow of time in Doriathrin forests would somehow keep her lover... longer from departing. Or perhaps some pride was involved. For neither did Beren wish to meet Thingol empty-handed, nor did Luthien want to meet him without kicking the kingdom's gates open and slamming the Silmaril on a table so hard as to shatter it (the table, not the Silmaril, for these are bound to outlast even Earth). As for Melian, they were so confused by her having kept distance. Luthien said it was out of character, that her mother saw far ahead if she wanted to, but had appeared frozen, as if offered to choose between harm, damage and accident...

They fell asleep in each other's embrace. Luthien awoke first, to the sound of... change. At first, she wondered if her senses were misleading her. Nargothrond was a calm and quiet place, and she knew its routine. This morning was different. The amount of background noise propagating through the rock... was growing fast.

Noise on streets started early. Then came sound of materials being moved, work at the underground docks near the river, sound of great quantities of water being moved, likely to alter the river's level, expose the docks and prepare a vessel to arrive or depart...

...then came other sounds. Of rock being split and chiseled, dragged and dropped. Something was being filled and emptied not by cartload, but by shipload. Even air circulating through in the caves had a different flavour today. There was a taste of dust, of smithwork and exotic fumes she didn't recognize.

Luthien guessed Finrod. The elvenking had probably stayed up all night. She awoke Beren to ask if he felt the same. Beren's senses were not so keen as to determine what was changed, but he simply snatched breakfast and insisted that they go explore.

The first thing they came across was the crowd around the signboard. Hung from ceiling near the board of tiny notes (which elves of Nargothrond often left for each other, when someone had need or surplus, assistance or information was sought or offered, announcements or invitations made)... was a black fabric twice taller than the tallest elf, freshly printed with fluorescent paint, duplicated both in Sindarin Cirth and Noldorin Tengwar. Beren couldn't read either, but he knew one word from the title.

"War?" I'm sorry, beloved, I cannot read text of this complexity.

Luthien understood his confusion and read it aloud.

In some strange way, her voice was different this time. He saw her reading it, but heard Finrod pronounce it instead.


RISK OF WAR

(those with prior agreements will save time by reporting at the king's office)

We are no longer safe.

Through lamentable circumstances which were partly my mistake,
a servant of the enemy has assailed one of us, and forced his way
to knowledge of our city.

It can be safely presumed that soon, the Dark Foe knows our location,
defense capabilities, population, accessways and routes.
Our idle days are over. Days of measured growth are gone.
Nargothrond must move fast and prepare for war. Further announcements
will follow, but preliminary suggestions can be made:

* since trade routes are open, it will benefit us to dispose of
(better early and on fair terms) excessive wealth in jewels and
precious metals in exchange for greater reserves of preservable food,
steel and copper, industrial ores, fuel for forges and weapons

* our water supply must be reworked, for when the Dark Foe
becomes involved, we may not count on Narog to supply us any more,
under attack, Narog may flood or wither to harm our defense,
turn to poison, freeze or even boil

* on this account, works have been started to give us capability
of storing great amounts of clean water, as well as capability
of filtering, distillation and conditioning of water in all breweries

* our ventilation system is being reworked for stronger defenses,
greater diversity of pathways and better switching between them

* additional works are undergoing to prepare a method of
rapidly destroying the stone bridge, as well as rapidly
installing numerous smaller suspension bridges

* docks will remain open, but a plan of action shall be made
by which they can be sealed from outside and additionally
cut off from the rest of Nargothrond; ship-crews
are advised to inquire in advance of developments;

* those of warrior talent are advised to resume training
and keep armaments within their home; bearing of weapons
in the course of everyday life will be accommodated for and encouraged;
those without weapons can freely obtain those and train with them,
for which purpose armories will be permanently open;

* individual skills count but a little in battle,
for this purpose a section of the armories will be open
for education about signals and tactics, machines of war
and strategy of warfare;

* regular competitions will be held within Nargothrond
and outside it for teams of warriors in complicated tasks;

* those of building skills (blacksmiths, millers,
tinkerers, clockmakers, glass-blowers, etc) may find
skill with tools to outweigh their skills of swordcraft;
the king's office will have advisors on duty for them
to help people find tasks of importance

* healers are advised to increase their reserve of supplies
for treating violent injuries, poisons and burns tenfold,
for which purpose treasury will accept requests freely

* for those who are convinced that they cannot risk
participation in war, whether for reasons of family
or any other cause, advise will be offered on how to relocate
to other settlements; negotiations will soon commence
with the Sindarin realm of Menegroth or the Noldorin town of Sirion

* assistance will be soon be requested and likely accepted from
all peoples, not only the Eldar but likewise Kuzdul and Edain,
so appearance of strangers is best responded to with curiosity
rather than suspicion; our safety will no longer stem
from secrecy

* those who have acquaintances and trading partners abroad,
are urged to visit the diplomatic office for advise
on what skills Nargothrond will be seeking

* general assembly will be held according to regular schedule,
but duration increased three times

Our share of peace has been cause for envy.
This dream was meant to shatter eventually.
Now unfortunately it is over.

My colleagues, let us face this with a cool and optimistic mind.
We can defend ourselves.

We will prepare for the eventual blow against us,
enlist the support of the world around, and when the blow comes,
the striking fist will shatter on rock."


On their way to Finrod's office, they came across many a thing unexpected.

Beautifully carved stone plates were removed, revealing shafts leading to far away - some of them small and round, others large and square, with rails, cables or pulleys. Elves were busy nearby, handing out papers and chattering, unpacking large crates of mechanisms and tools. On some levels of Nargothrond, hatches had been opened in ceilings and floors, encircled by fences and ribbons, as lifting equipment was being set up.

One street had all of its floor plating removed, exposing pipework of shining copper, fitted with junctions and valves.

And of course, the people had changed. Already many walked with a sword at their side, or a bow on their back.

Near the main gate, guards had increased tenfold, wearing heavy helmets and plate. Some looked entirely strange, having transparent visors on their helmets, something that left Beren watching in wonder and Luthien too surprised.

More than that, supplies of armaments near the gate were already enough to put Menegroth to shame, yet still increasing and bewildering. Large bows and catapults stood next to spears or anchors, some with rope attached while others separate.

Crates contained bags and small packages. Colored bottles of clay, glass and copper stood in other crates, holding strange liquids, marked with warning signs. Some bottles were tiny, others large. Nearby lay pipes of a dozen sorts with handles and straps, small and large, copper and steel, some with indicators of glass. Among the few obvious things were hoses made of resinous fabric, connected to walls. Large quantities of water were at hand.

They would not need to walk to Finrod's office, he was here near the gate, hunched over papers over a table with a dwarf, five Sindarin warriors and two Noldos in working clothes. Luthien recognized one of them: Celebrimbor. When she and Beren approached, a change occurred which never had before. Two of the Sindar rose and blocked the way to Finrod. They were calm but bore armour, swords and daggers. One of them bowed in greeting.

"Welcome, Luthien and Beren.
We are the king's newly appointed bodyguards.
We know and trust you, yet please allow us to fulfill our duty.
Finrod will be with you soon."

One of the guards went to Finrod, spoke a few words and he rose, leaving his place to the dwarf.

"Hello, Finrod, can you spare us time? You must be very busy."

"Don't worry, my friends Celebrimbor and Faldin will explain instructions to captains. Let us talk someplace calm."

He waved towards a side branch. It turned out to be the guards' lunch room. Bodyguards remained outside while they entered and sat.

"Finrod... what on Earth are these armaments and where did they come from?"

"I've had them made over a hundred years, when my dreams started warning me."

"You expect a dragon and plan to fight it like no other before."
"You have keen senses. I do expect a dragon, and demons of might leading thousands of orcs."

"What did your dreams show you?"

"They showed me Nargothrond falling to great beasts of war, great machines of war. They showed me the river steaming, stone collapsing, a great shape drawing near across the bridge. Spears bounced off it, arrows were like pebbles, guards died in scorching flames. It rammed the gate. Boulders bounced away from it. Again it rammed until the entire mountainside collapsed. I lay wounded among the rubble. We'd been caught by surprise."

"You decided to alter future."

"I understood that more could be done. I started reforging my dream on every night. I built a better gate. It still collapsed. I gave my warriors better armor. They still died in flames. I gave them dwarven helmets. They lasted for a minute. I despaired and asked Melian to teach me her songs. The dragon was stronger, you cannot sing to a beast while it incinerates you. I demolished the bridge. For a while, the nightmare replaced itself with another, where I fought a werewolf with bare hands. I was actually relieved at that!

Then the dream-dragon came back. While it rampaged in the city above me, until last moment I worked in my study and forge. Until in one dream, I walked towards the dragon and pointed a finely turned steel cylinder at the beast. The dragon spewed fire against me. The fuse burned instantly, while skin burned off my flesh. Explosion threw me back onto ground. With a roar it lashed out above me, its tail shattering pillars. I could see dark blood throbbing from its chest, evaporating in clouds of smoke.

Warriors from armories reached my location. A red-haired woman pulled me back through rubble. She wore a helmet of the kind you stopped to look at - it lets you fight in smoke, fire and even poison. I bade her farewell, bade her to avenge Nargothrond. Words got stuck on my lips. She understood and touched my mind with her spirit, though it burned and hurt me. I spoke to her in haste. My last vision was of demons taking her before Morgoth to be questioned. She was wounded and shackled, but smiling. She spoke some words which weren't real words, but a cipher. Morgoth bounced back in fear, yelling orders. She was slain immediately, but the Silmarils on the iron crown started to brighten. Night split in a flash above Angband, shattering mountains. I believe she unmade the Silmarils. And she wasn't you. She has disappeared from my dreams. I think that in some future, I forgot Amarie and loved someone else."

Finrod closed his eyes and pressed fingers against his temples, as if having a headache. Luthien understood that Finrod had received a fair share of the same gift (and curse) that Galadriel got.

"Since then, the dream has changed. I still occasionally dream of fighting an invasion led by a dragon, but now we destroy the bridge. The beast climbs up, but we prevail over it. Orcs and demons surround us, but are powereless to enter."

"So your dreams don't involve a woman going to Angband any more?"

"They don't... and if anyone goes there, I wish it were neither of you."