CHAPTER XIII
Northern Pass of Aglon, 453
The watchfires of Dorthonion were alight in the distance, their lights like the stars burning above. Tonight I had given myself leave to wander a little away from the watchtowers at Ladros and the March in the shadows of the Dorthonion Plateaux, which rose in toweringly high, steep walls. I kept close to the shelter of the rocks and trees, for a cold wind blew from through the pass from the lands of the north continuously. Every now and then I would glance at either one of those watchtowers, telling myself that some time alone would do me no harm. I only needed some time to think. I would sense danger before it came to me anyhow.
Yonder I could see Himring although the city lit no torches in the night, for there was only the slight glimmer of candlelights in solitary chambers to those who still lingered in the darkness. Distantly I could make out the outline of Mount Rerir in Thargelion, its high peak lofty over the northern hills over the river Gelion.
The energy in the trees rustled a little and I reached out my senses to feel an Elda coming south down the Pass of Aglon to where I was. I looked in a little deeper then to discern the individual fëa and recognized the feeling of the energy to be Findaráto. I relaxed then; my introvert problems were not so poor when it came to talking to people I knew. Settling back on the rock I had been resting on, I waited for him to reach me, as he was still some leagues away.
When Findaráto emerged from the cover of the trees, I leaned back and stayed silent, expecting him to notice me at some point, but he walked straight past me. He was only a few steps away from me when I made my dramatic entrance.
"Vandë omentaina, meldonya sweet," were my casually spoken words, yet too loud in the still night.
Findaráto froze then swiveled around on his feet, looking up at me perched on the rock with silent surprise. He stumbled over a fallen branch just as a strong gust of wind came blowing down the Pass and bowled him over onto the grass in his astonishment.
"Findaráto!" I was being very careful to not laugh, for it would be quite rude indeed, as I sprang off the rock to help him up. He had already stood up by the time I had gotten there, so I dusted him off needlessly.
He dipped his head quickly, and although confusion blanketed his expression, he still remembered to be polite. "Hantanyel órenyallo," he said as I waved it away. "But whence came you—"
"Really, Findaráto, I was expecting you to notice me but you walked straight past," I told him.
"It wasn't me that scared you this time, at least," he said. "But what are you doing here alone in the dead of the night anyhow?"
"Brooding over the city," I answered. "And you?"
"The same."
"Care for a silent moment atop the rock?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, climbing onto the rock after me.
When the next gale came blowing down the Pass, I spoke. "Have you been at Ladros?"
"Yes," he said. "Visiting Andreth."
"Does she speak to Ambaráto at all anymore?"
"Some," Findaráto told me. "But not very much. She is ashamed of who she thinks she has become. She is an adaneth ninety-two this year, only a year younger than Boron her father's father when he passed."
"It seems to me that the Atani would be happier in places away from the Eldar, so they would not lust for the hröar we have been given," I said.
"True," he said. "They are bitter."
"They do not know the darkness as we do, and although I cannot say I desire for a life as short-lived as theirs they do indeed know the light better," I said.
Findaráto sighed. "Yes. Perhaps in the time to come, some may break away from the Light of the Valar and go to Morgoth and his lackeys."
I looked at him incredulously. "You think?"
"It certainly is possible," he said. "They already envy us enough to do so. If Morgoth can promise them more, some may go to whichever side benefits them the most. But not all, I hope."
"And I hope also," I muttered.
"But do not mistrust them all," Findaráto said. "You must treat them with respect and honor, as you do to any other Elda."
"Needless to say, I know that," I said. "There is no need to tutor me in ways of speech."
"Andreth and Ambaráto. . .They both made promises to each other, and they still hold them, even in their days of estrangement," Findaráto said.
I paused. "You're thinking of Amarië, aren't you? You're wondering if she stayed true to you or if she found someone else in place of you."
He was taken aback. "How do you know about her? Are you reading my mind?"
"No," I said, a small smile playing at my lips. "Artanis told me."
"And why would she?" Findaráto exclaimed.
"Because I asked," I told him. "No need to blame her."
"Hm," he said.
"She told me that you spoke of days of darkness. You said that your realm would fall, and you would have no son to inherit it," I said.
"Indeed." He was biting his lip.
"And that you too, would swear an oath, and go into darkness," I said, turning to him, yet he refused to look at me.
He did not reply, so I turned back to the grasslands of Ard-galen and sighed. "How long do you think this Siege will last?"
"I don't know," he said, "but not forever."