Disclaimer: Eregwen and Thoroniel are original characters. It's not my fault if Tolkien never gave any of the women names in this story. And the house is vaguely modeled after what you'd expect to see in a place like Portsmouth, New Hampshire, which had some sea-captains' houses a couple of hundred years ago. This is Númenor, but certain elements are bound to be the same. Everyone else in this chapter, the places named, and most of the plot elements are his, otherwise I'd be having a much easier time with this. I found some birth dates in Unfinished Tales that suggested I'd better get on with things.
Thanks to ElectraFairford for beta reading, and for pointing one thing out: in case you've forgotten, athelas is kingsfoil – quite a useful plant in LOTR, but not originally native to Middle-Earth.
Flames will contribute to the fireworks for September 22 – don't forget Bilbo and Frodo's birthday! Of course, at the moment I don't have enough reviews of any sort to promise anything (hint hint). And if Eregwen even slightly resembles a Mary Sue, I deserve the scorching.
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4. Erukyermë
"We'll not help him by revealing his deed, no matter his condition," Amandil told his daughter-in-law, his voice quiet but stern. "I know no healers who would not betray Isildur to the King's Men. This is the first time an Elf-friend has so openly defied the Scepter, and many fear retaliation."
"It is not the last time," Thoroniel forespoke harshly. She hadn't slept more than an hour at a time since her elder son had gone missing, and it was almost a week now since his return.
"Nevertheless—"
"I know. Have you heard from…" she inclined her head westward. Amandil had spent much of that week in the darkened upstairs room where Isildur had left one of the palantíri.
Their correspondent had indeed contacted him. "His disguise was adequate. Armenelos knows nothing of who reached the Tree. Apparently Ar-Pharazôn was willing, after that, to fell Nimloth. Sauron delayed him."
"Why?"
"He has commanded a temple to be built on the hilltop of the city. Likely he means to make the White Tree an offering to Morgoth." Thoroniel expressed her absolute disgust. He nodded in agreement.
Isildur recovered only gradually, and remembered little of specific events that winter. He remained confined to his bedroom, which annoyed him when he was fully awake. Anárion attempted to cheer him up with a chessboard and some very silly books, which made up his own way of distracting himself. His older brother could not forget the danger they were in, though, nor could he accept his own helplessness to do anything about it. It was humiliating – fit punishment, Elendil told him without much sympathy, for almost getting himself killed.
The spring festival of Erukyermë drew closer, however, and one day Isildur got up and wandered into the backyard. A shallow ridge rose behind the house, still wooded and wild except for the odd footpath, and the narrow city lot widened out backwards. The fence that enclosed the rest of the garden ended here. It was the only available place to plant the fruit of Nimloth, and Amandil had done so; a fragile seedling had put out two broad leaves. They were still damp and vivid green with newness.
"Hey now," he smiled and sat down before it, less awkwardly than he might have done. He was still weak from a winter of illness, but his scars had begun to fade. Even his shoulder had lost its stiffness. Spring had returned.
Then the wind picked up from the west, bringing with it a scent that made Isildur's stomach clench.
Smoke.
Sour smoke, carrying a ruined fragrance that he still recognized four months later. He wasn't surprised that the cloud had carried fifty miles.
"At least my errand was timely," he muttered. Then he stood up hurriedly – still an unwise move – as someone moved on the ridge.
Neighbors occasionally used the footpaths through the woods to visit each other, as a shorter alternative to using the street. The young woman who held a hand up in greeting clearly intended to do so, with a basket under one arm filled with baked goods. Having never paid much attention to the surrounding families, Isildur knew her only by sight: a rather short person with obvious Haladin* features and a kerchief tied over her frizzy brown hair.
She nodded to him amiably. "So you're out and well again. I brought athelas when I heard you were ill. You're Ithil… Ithilnur…?"
"Isildur." He was touched. "You brought athelas? Why?"
"In farm country, it's good manners among neighbors." She made a slight courtesy. "I'm Eregwen daughter of Bereg, come from the Hyarnustar** at the summons of Lord Amandil."
"And you have come to visit? Surely the welcome here is not fine enough to encourage a return."
She smiled wryly and pointed at the western sky. A bluish smudge had become visible over the garden fence, and the acrid smell had strengthened. "It is said the exiled councilor receives word still from the capital. My father thinks that this smoke is an evil sign."
"It is. Nimloth is burning," he told her, but his frown had faded. She stared at him, and he moved aside so that she could see the young White Tree. "But it is spring, and we still have hope in Rómenna."
"Ai…"
A few days later, he invited Eregwen to the Erukyermë feast at his house, and had an excuse to avoid the mariner friends of his father and grandfather.
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*The Haladin (House of Haleth) were the smallest of the three original tribes from whom the Númenoreans are descended. They tended to be short, black- or brown-haired, gray-eyed, and rather anarchic. Most of the Faithful are from the House of Bëor, who looked the same except that they were taller, and spoke more Sindarin than anything else. The Númenórean majority is from the House of Hador, which was blonde; the Rohirrim of the Third Age are of mostly (non-Númenórean) Hadorian descent.
The Line of Elros – the royal family, the lords of Andúnië, and other miscellaneous cousins – predictably comes from all three, as well as being part Elf. Anyway, I liked the Haladin and was annoyed that they seemed to have gone extinct by the time of LOTR. Go short people!
**Númenor is shaped like a rough five-pointed star, and the Hyarnustar is the southwestern peninsula. It has very lovely Elvish forests in the far northern part, vineyards throughout, and actual sandy beaches along the southern coast. Elsewhere, including Rómenna, it's mostly cliffs.
I should point out that I have no idea how Erukyermë was celebrated after it lost the King's favor, if indeed they celebrated it at all. But the Elendili are human – it has to involve food, doesn't it?
So, have a sample of whatever it is they're eating and write me a review…