For days upon end they had been marching, the fire of their fury
still burning within their hearts. They needed ships to get to the eastern
lands of their birthplace. They had tried to negotiate with their Telerian
friends, but the ship-builders did not wish to displease the Valar as the
Noldor had done, nor did they wish to part with their ships.
Fëanor's temper grew hot. After much brooding and debating, he decided to seize which he thought was rightfully his. Why should they be refused on such a noble cause? Finally, weapons were drawn, pitting quendi against quendi, the greatest wrong of all the ages of Arda.
One of the soldiers of the Noldor was a fit, young ellon with bright, ice-blue eyes. The madness of battle was alight within them as he beheld a beautiful white ship of Alqualondë was before him, bobbing slowly in the wake of the harbor. At the stern of the ship was a glorious swan, carven of the white wood with jet black eyes and beak: a perfect vessel for him and his people. He began to ascend the ropes, and soon, he heard a voice behind him:
"Stand aside, Noldo." His hair was as black as night, and his eyes burned with the same intensity as the Noldo's own. "I did not build this ship with my own hands to have it stolen by the likes of you!"
The Noldo drew his sword. "These ships are ours by right! How else are we to reach Thangorodrim, where the beloved Silmarils now lie?"
The Teleri's face hardened. "Go back to Aman where you belong." He took out a small, slender bow and strung an arrow to its white wood. "Set one foot on my ship, and I will shoot you through the heart."
But the Noldorin soldier laughed at the Teleri's weak weapon, and he began to climb the ropes that led to the ship.
The Telerin mariner loosed an arrow. It bounced off the Noldo's armour harmlessly, and he laughed again.
Soon, he was upon the ship's white-timbered deck, his sword brandished and glowing in the torchlight. The Teleri fitted another shaft to his bow, this time aimed a bit higher, at the Noldo's throat, but with one swift stroke of his sword, the arrow fell, cloven in two, to the water below.
"Don't try to avail me, Teleri, you are powerless against me."
Soon, he was at the helm, ready to draw up the anchor. Still, the Teleri stood defiant.
"If you will not give up willingly, I will force you to."
The Teleri said nothing.
"How dare you defy me!" shouted the Noldo. "Will you not even speak on your own behalf?" Soon his anger and frustration grew to madness. With a cry of anger, he thrust the blade into the edhel's heart.
The Teleri made no cry of pain or anguish, but his eyes said it all. The loss of a ship, the loss of life, the loss of ieverything/i was written plain on his face. And he knew that he should have never committed such a horrible act. The madness had left him. Now he felt hollow, and full of regret. As he watched the Telerin mariner die, he did not see one that wished to waylay him and his kin, but a helpless defender of that which he loved. He was a son, a husband, a brother a friend.and now he had been taken away.by his own wrongdoing.
The bloodied sword slipped from his shaking hands, and he turned away from the body of the edhel, but he could not escape. Behind him was a slender elleth, her golden hair blowing about her in the wind. Tears were streaming down her pale face.
"How could you." she whispered.
"No," he protested. "I.I.I'm sorry."
Then, she lapsed into a thousand curses in the strange Telerin language that he could not understand, and she picked up the Noldo's sword that lay on the ground.
Fear rose in the Noldo's heart. "No, please.even if I do deserve to die for my wrongs, enough blood has been spilt already."
"Indeed!" she said harshly. "My brother, my sister, and now my husband, all of their fëar have gone to the halls of Mandos. And why? For the mindless anger of you and your kin. I should kill you now before you ruin any more of our lives. Farewell, Noldo. May Mandos have mercy on your fëa."
And she took up the blade, still dripping with the Teleri's blood. He tried to run, but her grief-wrought hands were too quick. Soon, his severed head lay on the deck of the ship, the Noldo's blood mixing with that of the Teleri.
The elleth cried out in frustration, and cast the sword into the Belegaer. Her previously beautiful ship was now stained with hate and death. For what? Anger? Jealousy? None of these were excuses for the death that had occurred. None.
Fëanor's temper grew hot. After much brooding and debating, he decided to seize which he thought was rightfully his. Why should they be refused on such a noble cause? Finally, weapons were drawn, pitting quendi against quendi, the greatest wrong of all the ages of Arda.
One of the soldiers of the Noldor was a fit, young ellon with bright, ice-blue eyes. The madness of battle was alight within them as he beheld a beautiful white ship of Alqualondë was before him, bobbing slowly in the wake of the harbor. At the stern of the ship was a glorious swan, carven of the white wood with jet black eyes and beak: a perfect vessel for him and his people. He began to ascend the ropes, and soon, he heard a voice behind him:
"Stand aside, Noldo." His hair was as black as night, and his eyes burned with the same intensity as the Noldo's own. "I did not build this ship with my own hands to have it stolen by the likes of you!"
The Noldo drew his sword. "These ships are ours by right! How else are we to reach Thangorodrim, where the beloved Silmarils now lie?"
The Teleri's face hardened. "Go back to Aman where you belong." He took out a small, slender bow and strung an arrow to its white wood. "Set one foot on my ship, and I will shoot you through the heart."
But the Noldorin soldier laughed at the Teleri's weak weapon, and he began to climb the ropes that led to the ship.
The Telerin mariner loosed an arrow. It bounced off the Noldo's armour harmlessly, and he laughed again.
Soon, he was upon the ship's white-timbered deck, his sword brandished and glowing in the torchlight. The Teleri fitted another shaft to his bow, this time aimed a bit higher, at the Noldo's throat, but with one swift stroke of his sword, the arrow fell, cloven in two, to the water below.
"Don't try to avail me, Teleri, you are powerless against me."
Soon, he was at the helm, ready to draw up the anchor. Still, the Teleri stood defiant.
"If you will not give up willingly, I will force you to."
The Teleri said nothing.
"How dare you defy me!" shouted the Noldo. "Will you not even speak on your own behalf?" Soon his anger and frustration grew to madness. With a cry of anger, he thrust the blade into the edhel's heart.
The Teleri made no cry of pain or anguish, but his eyes said it all. The loss of a ship, the loss of life, the loss of ieverything/i was written plain on his face. And he knew that he should have never committed such a horrible act. The madness had left him. Now he felt hollow, and full of regret. As he watched the Telerin mariner die, he did not see one that wished to waylay him and his kin, but a helpless defender of that which he loved. He was a son, a husband, a brother a friend.and now he had been taken away.by his own wrongdoing.
The bloodied sword slipped from his shaking hands, and he turned away from the body of the edhel, but he could not escape. Behind him was a slender elleth, her golden hair blowing about her in the wind. Tears were streaming down her pale face.
"How could you." she whispered.
"No," he protested. "I.I.I'm sorry."
Then, she lapsed into a thousand curses in the strange Telerin language that he could not understand, and she picked up the Noldo's sword that lay on the ground.
Fear rose in the Noldo's heart. "No, please.even if I do deserve to die for my wrongs, enough blood has been spilt already."
"Indeed!" she said harshly. "My brother, my sister, and now my husband, all of their fëar have gone to the halls of Mandos. And why? For the mindless anger of you and your kin. I should kill you now before you ruin any more of our lives. Farewell, Noldo. May Mandos have mercy on your fëa."
And she took up the blade, still dripping with the Teleri's blood. He tried to run, but her grief-wrought hands were too quick. Soon, his severed head lay on the deck of the ship, the Noldo's blood mixing with that of the Teleri.
The elleth cried out in frustration, and cast the sword into the Belegaer. Her previously beautiful ship was now stained with hate and death. For what? Anger? Jealousy? None of these were excuses for the death that had occurred. None.