Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all; I have nothing - except original characters needed to fill in great big gaps in the elven genealogies. Translations of Elvish words and notes are found at the end of the chapter.
I Phedh-rînath
End of the First Age, Somewhere Dark
He was yet a Maia, though perverted in form and purpose to serve darkness. His kind remained the most feared of all elf-banes; lays of gallantry were all that remained of the few among Ilúvatar's spawn who did not flee the flame of unlight.
No, his cruel reign continued, though Beleriand was no more and his master cast into the Void. The host of Valinor claimed its victory and withdrew to Aman, and unheeded, he made his way through the deep places of Arda to Caradhras, which received him gratefully.
And he slept.
Early Second Age, Eriador
Laigil paused, her grey eyes checking for stragglers. Two women were with child, and other elves helped small children along. Morgoth at last overthrown, and the land itself quiet after its great upheaval, elves had turned again to the begetting of children. As they came over the summit of the dwarf path, many looked back upon the forest that had been home for centuries. In this new age, elves and the Edain sought wood for the making of ships and the building of new towns near the Gulf of Lhûn, and the beloved trees of the Laegrim dwindled. Looking east, Laigil saw the endless forest Malgalad and his scouting party had promised; the march did not look so daunting, for already she could see the ribbon of the Baranduin.
"Alas, it is not so near as it seems," her kinsman interrupted her thoughts.
The elf-maid smiled. "Would that we were eagles and might span the distance in a few hours. I wonder where they have gone."
"Your brother and father? I believe your father meets with the dwarves on the matter of safe passage on their road, and your brother accompanies him to ensure that Oropher does not start a war," Malgalad answered, momentarily confused by Laigil's sudden change of topic.
"No, I spoke of the eagles. They lost their home when the lands were flooded, but it is said they flew east." She looked up in alarm at her second cousin. "You do not truly think my father will start a war, do you?"
Malgalad laughed. "He is not so quick-tempered as that, though dwarves would try the patience of Nienna. And these are not the dwarves of Nogrod;** they are gone, I think. The Belain have their way of exacting recompense upon evildoers. No, those who remain were of Belegost, though I think the distinction is lost on your father and brother."
Laigil shuddered; dwarves were dwarves by her reckoning. At the ford of the Baranduin, they left the easy path and turned southeast into the forest, for the dwarf path led north to the East Road** and Khazad-dûm. Their destination was the Gwathló, south of the bridge over the Mitheithel and the emerging hamlet of Tharbad.
Faunil, one among the Laegrim who had accompanied Malgalad, led them confidently through the forest. Thranduil looked up to the shimmering green canopy; he had not seen such unspoiled forest since they had left Region. But none of the ferin he recalled from Doriath grew here, and he felt a pang for his lost childhood and his mother. Indeed, he jumped when he heard her voice at his elbow.
"Ai, muindoren, if you are to be also lost in the dreamworld, Adar shall despair of us both!" Laigil chided.
Thranduil shortened his stride to match his sister's pace. "I was thinking of our mother, and the beech trees of home. It would be good to have a place to call our home again." Not in Arvernien or in Lindon had he ever lost the sense that they were only passing through.
"I fear this will be but another resting place. We shall move on again, I think," Laigil replied. "Hebo vronwen. Ad radathag am mbar gîn, muindoren."
At last Faunil stopped.
"This is where we camped on the Gwathló," Malgalad told them.
None of the weary elves were sorry to leave the journey, though much work lay ahead. Of the trees the Laegrim would ask permission to take wood, but only as they needed it;** not until given leave by the trees could they harvest lumber to build huts. Scouts were sent out again; they would sweep a half-circle around the little colony, gathering knowledge of these strange lands. They could not cross the river here, so the lands to the east would remain unknown until rafts were made. Thranduil gathered a small party to go to Tharbad, for his father hoped to establish sound relations with the men of the little town; there they would trade such goods as their people produced for needful things they could not make.
The meeting with the dwarves had gone tolerably well. If Thranduil was suspicious of the race, he did not underestimate their intelligence. Such negotiations were wholly new to his father as to him, for they had never before been truly independent of a higher king. He wondered, however, how long they might claim these wilds as their own. Laigil spoke truly; it would only be a matter of time before they were disturbed again. More elves would come over the Ered Luin; men not of the Edain would take their own holdings along the river. They were too close to Tharbad, he thought, but he agreed with his father - it would be folly to move further east, for they knew too little of the lands.
Early Second Age, Eryn Galen
The wood folk were nervous, for they sensed much upheaval in the lands to the west. Orcs they had seen before, when Morgoth came east to defile the nascent race of men. Men, too, they knew, and in those early days they had befriended the Edain, for they were then like children, innocent and unworldly. They taught them their language and what little they recalled of the Valar, and shared the lore of the forest and the means to defend themselves against orcs and other foul things that hunted them. The later comers in whom Morgoth found allies, they regarded with distrust. Elves see the blackness of a faithless heart, and only the most corrupt sons of Fëanor would treat with such men.
From the Anduin and Celebrant, Ulmo gathered tidings of the forgotten elves of the forest, and he saw that since the death of their King** they had become dispersed and scattered, and knew no more the teachings of the wise. Ulmo learned also of the wolves and orcs and wicked men who plagued the peoples of the woodland. Only at the ancient citadel of Amon Lanc, where the elves followed Brónalm, could a host of any measure be gathered. Therefore the Vala took thought for these lost elves, and called upon the help of the eagles in their eyries high in Hithaeglir, but to Brónalm alone he spoke.
"You, who are counted ancient among the First Born, know patience. In time, the heir to Lenwë will unite the elves of the wood, and you will again prosper and be strong. But now you must wait, and watch over your people."
725 Second Age, Eriador
The wind whipped her dark hair around her, but Berinaeth thought only of a bath; the voyage in her father's trading vessel had left the scent of its goods - fish - clinging to her skin and skirts. Her father took lodging at the most respectable of taverns in Tharbad, though 'respectable' clearly had other meaning here. Indeed, the boisterous crowd would hardly have noticed her pungent odor, for most of them reeked of fish themselves. Many of the locals worked the docks; the tavern's guests, like her father, had come from the Gulf of Lhûn to trade.
The tavern had in its employ a fine cook, and elves and men crowded the tables. A hearty, musical laugh drew her eyes to a tall elf, surrounded by an audience of elf-maids and well plied with wine. Even in his cups, the elf's noble bearing revealed roots loftier than those of his company. He wore neither the blue and silver of Gil-galad's people,** nor the sea-blues of Berinaeth's folk, but garments of emerald green and brown. As he had greeted her father when they arrived, she thought to ask him concerning this unfamiliar elf.
"T'would be Thranduil, son of the lord of the Laegrim. We passed their settlement on our way up the river, though ye would not have known it, 'tis well hidden."
Anor had already sent her rays to warm the summer day when Berinaeth arose. The tavern was oddly quiet, and would be until the mid-day meal was served. The fish markets opened early, especially in the hot summer, and the trading folk, including her father, were long gone to the riverside. In the dining room, only a few ate a late breakfast, among them the blond elf.
"Will you join me, my lady," he called to her.
In the daylight she could see why the maids flocked to him; he was fair of face and the smile he turned on her was charming. She stiffened slightly, for in neither character nor breeding was she of the sort who had thronged around him last night. Still, if her father had thought him to be a rake, he would have called him so.
"I think I will," she accepted his offer. The tavern owners knew enough of the habits of elves to keep fresh fruit on hand during the high season. Berinaeth was delighted and surprised; in voyages with her father to the towns of men, she was used to the rather greasy and tasteless fare of which mortals were queerly fond.
Thranduil read her expression. "It is our own fruit that my people grow. I have just come with the latest pickings. You have not been to Tharbad before, I gather?"
"No. My father does not come here often; he trades more along the western coast. But it has been a good year for fish, and we know not what to do with them all."
"Perhaps a good year for the fisher, but a bad year to be a fish," Thranduil laughed. Berinaeth joined in his merry laugh as he continued, "My business here is finished, though I wait on my companions, who look to the purchase of supplies. I would show you the town, if you do not find my offer presumptuous."
"On the contrary, I would like that, if I can but raise my lazy handmaiden."
"Ai, hirilen, I was up afore dawn," a voice chided behind her.
Ríadel looked none the worse for her early rising, though Berinaeth was quite certain she had been among the elf-maids attending to her breakfast company the previous evening. 'A fine chaperone I shall have to ensure my honor is not besmirched,' the lady thought with amusement.
Thus the three set off to see the burgeoning river town. "It is a fair town, for one of men, but it grows ever larger, which my people do not like," Thranduil told the elf-maids as they paused to watch the brisk business in the marketplace, just off the docks. Already the High King's emissaries and soldiers were common in the town, for Gil-galad foresaw the importance of its location, and Thranduil knew that the growing town would soon impinge upon their pastoral life further south.
"Do you go abroad often with your father?" he asked of Berinaeth.
"As often as I might, though I miss my home and must have my libraries and gardens if I am too long at sea. But we are all that is left of our family, and my father grows lonely."
It was a tale too often told by elves of the Elder Days. "Your mother went West after the War?" Thranduil queried.
"Nay, she was lost in the raid on Brithombar. And my older sister, visiting my father's kin at Nevrast, bound herself to a Noldo and went into Gondolin. We have never had knowledge of her since, though it is said her son and husband came to Arvernien."
"Ah, we were there, but we knew little of the Gondolindrim, for they settled further south, and we were not friendly with the Noldor." A wry expression crossed his face at the understatement of his final words. They had come to the center of town, though the real business of Tharbad was on the river. Once nothing more than thin clapboard shacks, the town center now underwent a rebuilding, and the fine work of stonemasons from Forlindon was evident in the grander places.
Berinaeth looked at her companion's golden braids, betraying a Noldo in his lineage, though she guessed he came from Doriath. 'There is a story there,' she mused. Her mother was sister to Círdan, and his folk had less antipathy toward the Noldor, for the ancient elf had refused to embroil himself in the conflict between the two clans. In the Elder Days, they acknowledged Thingol as High King of their people, but Círdan was his own master, and his ships and warriors had known but one enemy - Morgoth.
As it was now mid-day, the three elves found a grassy lawn on a hill overlooking the river, north of the docks. Here the river was known as the Mitheithel, becoming the Gwathló at Tharbad. The elves ate bread and cheese and shared wine Thranduil had obtained in town, and Berinaeth sang a sad lay of a mariner lost at sea, and his faithful bride who waited each evening on the shore, certain of his return.
She was not, Thranduil admitted, the sort of maid he preferred; indeed, her saucy handmaid was more to his liking. There was a delicate air about her, as fine glass. He knew Aureve, her father, enough to discern that he was no simple fisherman, and he guessed correctly that Berinaeth was close kin to Círdan, for in manner and education she revealed herself to be of his own caste in elven society. Yet, for all her refined sensibilities, he sensed a bit of daring in her; since the death of her mother, she had no doubt become accustomed to the running of her household, and he suspected that in this she deferred to no one, not even her father.
~~~
Thranduil courted the lady assiduously; if his preferences would lead him to maids of less refinement, he was not unappreciative of Berinaeth's beauty and quick mind. In the absence of his mother, his spouse would have the role of Bassoneth** among his people. He could not be hasty or foolish in the taking of a wife.
Deeply attached to his daughter and only close kin, Aureve saw that this betrothal would separate them; he would have liked to see her bind herself among the Teleri along the coast. Nevertheless, his capable daughter was meant for loftier purposes than the transport of fish, and as the wife of Oropher's Hîl, Berinaeth would have a special place. The wise elven ruler recognized the insight that was the province of the elleth,**and valued her counsel.
His daughter was indeed eager to put her talents to use. She had grown weary of her life, and she desired a family of her own. Berinaeth had not Thranduil's sensual fire, or he her cool elegance, but in many ways they were much alike, and if there was no passion between the two elves, there was mutual attraction of mind and body. She would have much to occupy her as lady of the house, and she had become quite fond of Oropher. The elf-lord spoke often of his late wife, and the sadness in his voice stirred her heart. She began to understand this family's fear and hatred of the Noldor and their King.
Oropher alone was beset with uncertainties as to his son's sentiment, and perceiving that a betrothal would be made ere long, resolved to speak to Thranduil on the matter. "With your mother, I was fortunate to love and be loved, and I would wish the same on my children," he began, sharing the last of the fine Dorwinion vintage. Easterlings were troubling the trade routes and there had lately been a shortage of the prized wines. "And I assure you your mother would warn you against a loveless marriage," he continued.
Thranduil longed to speak freely to his sire. It was, perhaps, Oropher's chief shortcoming that his affections, good or ill, often overruled careful thought. As elves migrated east into Eriador, and men came west, Thranduil worried that the borders of their realm would soon be challenged. Already Tharbad began to inch south along the river, and the forest around the town was denuded as the growing burg claimed wood for building. Thranduil foresaw that they could not shut themselves entirely of politics in the Havens. Alliances formed of blood relations were strong, and by agent of his father's detested cousin or Berinaeth's close kinship to Círdan, they must have sympathetic voices close to the High King if their sovereignty were to remain inviolate.
He thought also for his sister. He wished for her to be free to bind herself as she chose, and not out of a sense of duty to her family, and he wished also to relieve her of the burden she had been obliged to carry when their mother was slain. For such tasks as settling minor disputes between their people or handling crises of servants in their household, shy Laigil was not suited, and the elf-maid would be relieved to abdicate her duties as Bassoneth.
Turning away at last from the brightly burning hearth, Thranduil considered his words carefully. "It is true that I do not love her as you loved my mother. But my regard for her is not one of cold appraisal. I am not immune to her charms, and take much pleasure in her company. Do not fear for my happiness, Adar. We shall, I think, be content in one another."
925 Second Age, Eriador
White-gold braids whipped around dangerously as the elf-child paused to take a handful of strawberries and turned back to his new friends.
"Caunolas! Tolo si!" The little one bounced impatiently before his mother. "Finish the strawberries and then you may go." The berries were gone in a flash, and to the elf-child's annoyance, he was held back once more while Berinaeth wiped his face and hands.
"A lively one, he is."
Thranduil picked a strawberry from the basket. "Whither does he come by it, I wonder? I grow tired watching him."
"From you, to hear your father tell it," Berinaeth laughed.
Thranduil watched his son at play with the mortal children on the green. Caunolas was smaller than the others, but his elven grace easily surpassed their skill. He smiled; the children of men underestimated the slender elf-child, unaware of his superior abilities. He looked about the town square, always stunned by the rapid changes of Tharbad as its importance waxed, and then his smile faded rapidly. Berinaeth shook her head as her husband abruptly rose and ran from the green.
Thranduil kept the green cloak and golden hair in his sights. The other elf did not hurry her, and he easily caught up with the pair.
"Where do you think to take my sister?" he demanded of the blue and silver-clad elf.
"Thranduil! I am not a child; I do not need your approval of the company I keep," Laigil interjected.
"I think there is a misunderstanding, hîren. I do not accompany against her will, but I hope by her wish and consent," the elf answered.
Thranduil rapidly made sense of this state of affairs, and it pleased him even less. "We will speak on this at home," he told his sister.
"Alas, I did not think my brother and sister would come to town today," Laigil fretted after Thranduil had left them.
Málissë had passed the early part of his life in the Hidden City, and was still somewhat mystified by the loathing of the Iathrim for his father's people. He failed to see the reasoning of an elf who had bound himself to a half-Noldorin spouse but would object to the same for his daughter. Nonetheless, Laigil remained fearful of Oropher's reaction, and Málissë had learned to trust the elf-maid's instincts.
"I wonder that any might deny your wishes, for I am wholly unable to do so myself."
Laigil squeezed his hand. "My brother is not unfair; he will not remain angry."
"Perhaps, then, you will find your father less formidable than you perceive."
Laigil grimaced. "It is not good timing; my father is already upset about the new port, and the migration to Eregion. I do not wish to trouble him further."
"But when, Laigil?" Were circumstances different, they would have been betrothed and bound already. Málissë was not gifted with patience; only his deep affection for the lady retained his hope.
"I cannot tell you. When the time is ripe, I shall know it." And they spoke no more on the subject.
~~~
"What are you thinking, Laigil? A servant of the High King? And you go about without a chaperone? How long have you been seeing this Golodh?"
" Guard your temper, brother; I would not have Adar learn of this yet." Laigil had purposely remained in her rooms upon return, knowing that it would be better to let her brother speak his piece than have the night to cultivate his anger.
"And you have deceived us," Thranduil added, unwilling to admit that if his sister had been secretive, her reasons for being so were sound.
"He is half-Sindarin, as Naneth was. And what if he is loyal to the High King? He has done nothing to us."
"You are too trusting, Laigil."
"You do not even know Málissë; it is not your place to decide if I should trust him or not," she answered sharply.
Thranduil softened, surprised by the defiance in his passive sister. "You must care for him a great deal, if you are willing to go to such lengths to share his company."
Laigil smiled shyly. "I do." She turned away. "But I am hesitant before Adar."
"How long have you been thus seeing this Málissë?" he repeated his earlier question, more gently now.
"We met at the midsummer festival a few years ago." She looked up, troubled. "I did not know then that he was a captain at the garrison. I thought to break our friendship when I learned of it, for I did not want to upset Adar. But my heart would not listen."
"Adar will be made to see reason," her brother promised. "He would not wish unhappiness on you."
"You mean you will let Berinaeth persuade him," Laigil laughed.
"Aye, she has a way with our father," Thranduil acknowledged with a smile.
926 Second Age, Eriador
Swollen with spring runoff, the Bruinen ran swift and cold in its steep fall from Hithaeglir, but its waters were slowed by the meandering Mitheithel, more gradual in its descent from the high country. By the time the Mitheithel met the Gwathló at Tharbad, the rapids of the Bruinen had been thoroughly tamed, and even at its high water mark, the Gwathló was easily navigated by raft or boat. The morning was cloudy and cold, threatening rain, and Thranduil made a mental note to ensure the banks along their lands were well shored up against flooding. Faunil, his granite eyes fierce and his face uncharacteristically grim, steered the raft to the shore, and Thranduil followed him into the forest, still ignorant of the Laegel's purpose in raising him from his bed at this early hour.
"I found this yesterday, hîren. The trees have been uneasy of late - ." He broke off as the two elves reached a clearing.
Thranduil was aghast; he could well understand the other elf's unconcealed fury. A clearing it was, but not one made by Yavanna. Raw stumps of once proud trees covered the ground. The devastation ran far, in a wide strip south to a stand of willows marking an offshoot from the river. He had lived among the Laegrim all his life; this plunder was work of men who knew nothing of forest husbandry, or cared nothing for it. "The Gwathuirim did not do this."
"Nay, I think not. They are a strange enough folk, but disturb the forest little. The trees are not afraid of them." Their sensitive ears picked up the noise of men on the river, moving upstream.
"Come, they return." The two elves hid themselves in the softwood trees nearer to the water. Before long, a great crew broke the stillness of the morning. "Númenor! Have they not wood enough in their own land?" Thranduil whispered, recognizing the star of Eärendil. He snatched the cloak of the other elf, recalling Faunil from his intent to challenge the Númenóreans. "Nay! We are only two against many." The other elf nodded, resigned. Having seen what they had come to see, the elves made their way back to the raft on silent feet.
~~~
"This bodes ill." Oropher knew the Gwathuirim would not permit their lands to be ravaged without reprisal, and though these primitive men were superstitious and feared the elves, his people's sympathies must lie with their neighbors.
"It is said that Tar-Aldarion enjoys the High King's favor," Berinaeth murmured, distracted by her squirming son, whose interest in the subtleties of Sindarin spelling had long ago flagged. He had learned the lays and songs readily enough, and was enraptured by elven history, but Caunolas saw little point in writing down what he kept easily in his head. Now the talk of the adults had taken a serious turn, and he saw his chance to cut short his lessons.
Berinaeth gave in. "All right then, off with you, tinwegen!" Caunolas hardly paused to greet and take leave of his father before running off.
"To mischief, no doubt," Thranduil smiled, watching him go. He returned to Faunil's discovery. "There is talk in Tharbad of a shadow in the East; Gil-galad likely hopes to stock the ports with allies. We cannot be drawn into this conflict, Adar."
Oropher sighed. His sympathies, too, were with the men who occupied the lands to the south, but his son spoke wisely. "We would bring the might of Forlond upon our heads. Gil-galad must support Númenor, and I would not make an enemy of him."
His late wife's cousin seemed apt to respect their sovereignty, or perhaps ignored them altogether. Nevertheless, Oropher feared his realm to be but a fiefdom, dependent on the will of the High King, and the impression that they were pressed on all sides had begun to gnaw on the elf-lord. North of Tharbad, the remnants of Fëanor's people had founded Ost-in-Edhil; the gates of the city and of Khazad-dûm even bore the star of that accursed clan.** Gil-galad kept a permanent garrison at Tharbad, and now his allies from Númenor crept upstream from the port at Lond Daer.
"You think of moving east again," Thranduil perceived.
Oropher stood at the window, his gaze lighting upon vibrant gardens, cultivated as a wedding gift for Berinaeth; further out, he saw the trees frisking in the breeze, well-pleased to have elves in their midst. It saddened his heart to think of leaving this place. "I fear we may have no choice. These loggers are still well south of us, but how long will they respect our lands? They are men; greed will eventually dismiss any regard or fear they hold before us. And we may not long be able to restrain our people from involvement. Trees are sacred to them."
"Yet the wine traders who travel to and from Dorwinion speak of orcs and other troubles beyond the mountains. It is there that the shadow is strongest." Berinaeth was least disposed to move east, for she had strong ties still to her father.
"Alas, we are neatly caught, for it is the High King's power that holds the shadow back," Thranduil admitted.
~~~
"My father speaks more often of the east," Laigil announced to her companion. This matter she had long hesitated to discuss with Málissë.
"It is not safe beyond Hithaeglir; something unwholesome has settled in the wild lands," the captain warned.
Laigil knew this. "My heart tells me we must go east, for good or ill. We cannot remain here." She paused; her next words would be difficult. "If they go, I must go with them. They are my people; I could never be happy in Tharbad."
Frustration bubbled to the surface, and Málissë stopped, turning to face his beloved. "What, then, do you ask of me? You will not allow me to speak to your father, and while I would forsake my post to follow you, I cannot do so without your leave, and your promise. I have waited long, melethen, and my affection remains strong, but my heart despairs."
Tears blurred her sight. Was she overcautious? Her father was not a tyrant; she knew that he would never forbid her marriage. But she wished to have his blessing; she would not have unpleasantness between her love and her father. "It is just so difficult now; it is why my father thinks to go east, whatever dangers we may encounter. You have my heart, do not doubt that. But my father's ill feelings are provoked anew each time he sees the High King's people in town. We will have his blessing, but not now."
The captain held her hands in his, his heart melting; he hated to cause her such distress. "I cannot but wait, then."
Laigil looked toward this east. "It shall not be long, now. Things far beyond us are stirring."
927 Second Age, Eryn Galen
Already ancient when the Sun and Moon were made by the Valar, Brónalm might have been the oldest elf in Arda save Círdan. He had taught the skill and lore of archery to countless young elves, and to the Atani, too, when they came among his people. Cûcherdir - bow-master - his people called him.
Possessed of an adventuresome character, and fearless of the unknown, he had wandered much in Arda, coming even into Beleriand more than once. Ever called to return to his people, he did not settle there, but returned east. In this the Lord of the Waters might have guided him, for Brónalm had a fate of which he was yet unaware, and for which he would be revered among the wood folk. The Eldar would tell of him in no song or book of lore, but in years hence, when the hope of all free peoples of Arda came to rest in a fellowship of nine, the felling of a Nazgûl from his flying steed would be but one feat of Brónalm's favored student.
In these days, Ulmo's thoughts were again drawn to the forgotten ones, and he did not forsake his promise to the elf he had chosen as his messenger. Malice brooded in the east, emboldening the fell creatures that harassed the elves of Eryn Galen. Ulmo saw that only in unity could the Wood Elves withstand the darkness rising. Therefore, from the waters of the Anduin he summoned Brónalm, and sent him west over the mountains.
His journey was long, but Brónalm came at last to the Gwathló, and there he found elves who lived among the trees. Their speech had become strange to him, but he had learned some Sindarin in his travels, and the elves knew him as one of their long-sundered clan in the east. At his urging, they brought him before their lord.
Brónalm knew at once the emerald green standard, hung proudly in the elf-lord's hall, for it was that of his dead King. He knew, too, the mark embroidered on the standard, for this he had seen in his dreams - a leaf of verdant green, the emblem of the House of Lasgalen.
He bowed before the silver-haired elf and spoke a single word.
"Aranen."
End of the First Age, Somewhere Dark
He was yet a Maia, though perverted in form and purpose to serve darkness. His kind remained the most feared of all elf-banes; lays of gallantry were all that remained of the few among Ilúvatar's spawn who did not flee the flame of unlight.
No, his cruel reign continued, though Beleriand was no more and his master cast into the Void. The host of Valinor claimed its victory and withdrew to Aman, and unheeded, he made his way through the deep places of Arda to Caradhras, which received him gratefully.
And he slept.
Early Second Age, Eriador
Laigil paused, her grey eyes checking for stragglers. Two women were with child, and other elves helped small children along. Morgoth at last overthrown, and the land itself quiet after its great upheaval, elves had turned again to the begetting of children. As they came over the summit of the dwarf path, many looked back upon the forest that had been home for centuries. In this new age, elves and the Edain sought wood for the making of ships and the building of new towns near the Gulf of Lhûn, and the beloved trees of the Laegrim dwindled. Looking east, Laigil saw the endless forest Malgalad and his scouting party had promised; the march did not look so daunting, for already she could see the ribbon of the Baranduin.
"Alas, it is not so near as it seems," her kinsman interrupted her thoughts.
The elf-maid smiled. "Would that we were eagles and might span the distance in a few hours. I wonder where they have gone."
"Your brother and father? I believe your father meets with the dwarves on the matter of safe passage on their road, and your brother accompanies him to ensure that Oropher does not start a war," Malgalad answered, momentarily confused by Laigil's sudden change of topic.
"No, I spoke of the eagles. They lost their home when the lands were flooded, but it is said they flew east." She looked up in alarm at her second cousin. "You do not truly think my father will start a war, do you?"
Malgalad laughed. "He is not so quick-tempered as that, though dwarves would try the patience of Nienna. And these are not the dwarves of Nogrod;** they are gone, I think. The Belain have their way of exacting recompense upon evildoers. No, those who remain were of Belegost, though I think the distinction is lost on your father and brother."
Laigil shuddered; dwarves were dwarves by her reckoning. At the ford of the Baranduin, they left the easy path and turned southeast into the forest, for the dwarf path led north to the East Road** and Khazad-dûm. Their destination was the Gwathló, south of the bridge over the Mitheithel and the emerging hamlet of Tharbad.
Faunil, one among the Laegrim who had accompanied Malgalad, led them confidently through the forest. Thranduil looked up to the shimmering green canopy; he had not seen such unspoiled forest since they had left Region. But none of the ferin he recalled from Doriath grew here, and he felt a pang for his lost childhood and his mother. Indeed, he jumped when he heard her voice at his elbow.
"Ai, muindoren, if you are to be also lost in the dreamworld, Adar shall despair of us both!" Laigil chided.
Thranduil shortened his stride to match his sister's pace. "I was thinking of our mother, and the beech trees of home. It would be good to have a place to call our home again." Not in Arvernien or in Lindon had he ever lost the sense that they were only passing through.
"I fear this will be but another resting place. We shall move on again, I think," Laigil replied. "Hebo vronwen. Ad radathag am mbar gîn, muindoren."
At last Faunil stopped.
"This is where we camped on the Gwathló," Malgalad told them.
None of the weary elves were sorry to leave the journey, though much work lay ahead. Of the trees the Laegrim would ask permission to take wood, but only as they needed it;** not until given leave by the trees could they harvest lumber to build huts. Scouts were sent out again; they would sweep a half-circle around the little colony, gathering knowledge of these strange lands. They could not cross the river here, so the lands to the east would remain unknown until rafts were made. Thranduil gathered a small party to go to Tharbad, for his father hoped to establish sound relations with the men of the little town; there they would trade such goods as their people produced for needful things they could not make.
The meeting with the dwarves had gone tolerably well. If Thranduil was suspicious of the race, he did not underestimate their intelligence. Such negotiations were wholly new to his father as to him, for they had never before been truly independent of a higher king. He wondered, however, how long they might claim these wilds as their own. Laigil spoke truly; it would only be a matter of time before they were disturbed again. More elves would come over the Ered Luin; men not of the Edain would take their own holdings along the river. They were too close to Tharbad, he thought, but he agreed with his father - it would be folly to move further east, for they knew too little of the lands.
Early Second Age, Eryn Galen
The wood folk were nervous, for they sensed much upheaval in the lands to the west. Orcs they had seen before, when Morgoth came east to defile the nascent race of men. Men, too, they knew, and in those early days they had befriended the Edain, for they were then like children, innocent and unworldly. They taught them their language and what little they recalled of the Valar, and shared the lore of the forest and the means to defend themselves against orcs and other foul things that hunted them. The later comers in whom Morgoth found allies, they regarded with distrust. Elves see the blackness of a faithless heart, and only the most corrupt sons of Fëanor would treat with such men.
From the Anduin and Celebrant, Ulmo gathered tidings of the forgotten elves of the forest, and he saw that since the death of their King** they had become dispersed and scattered, and knew no more the teachings of the wise. Ulmo learned also of the wolves and orcs and wicked men who plagued the peoples of the woodland. Only at the ancient citadel of Amon Lanc, where the elves followed Brónalm, could a host of any measure be gathered. Therefore the Vala took thought for these lost elves, and called upon the help of the eagles in their eyries high in Hithaeglir, but to Brónalm alone he spoke.
"You, who are counted ancient among the First Born, know patience. In time, the heir to Lenwë will unite the elves of the wood, and you will again prosper and be strong. But now you must wait, and watch over your people."
725 Second Age, Eriador
The wind whipped her dark hair around her, but Berinaeth thought only of a bath; the voyage in her father's trading vessel had left the scent of its goods - fish - clinging to her skin and skirts. Her father took lodging at the most respectable of taverns in Tharbad, though 'respectable' clearly had other meaning here. Indeed, the boisterous crowd would hardly have noticed her pungent odor, for most of them reeked of fish themselves. Many of the locals worked the docks; the tavern's guests, like her father, had come from the Gulf of Lhûn to trade.
The tavern had in its employ a fine cook, and elves and men crowded the tables. A hearty, musical laugh drew her eyes to a tall elf, surrounded by an audience of elf-maids and well plied with wine. Even in his cups, the elf's noble bearing revealed roots loftier than those of his company. He wore neither the blue and silver of Gil-galad's people,** nor the sea-blues of Berinaeth's folk, but garments of emerald green and brown. As he had greeted her father when they arrived, she thought to ask him concerning this unfamiliar elf.
"T'would be Thranduil, son of the lord of the Laegrim. We passed their settlement on our way up the river, though ye would not have known it, 'tis well hidden."
Anor had already sent her rays to warm the summer day when Berinaeth arose. The tavern was oddly quiet, and would be until the mid-day meal was served. The fish markets opened early, especially in the hot summer, and the trading folk, including her father, were long gone to the riverside. In the dining room, only a few ate a late breakfast, among them the blond elf.
"Will you join me, my lady," he called to her.
In the daylight she could see why the maids flocked to him; he was fair of face and the smile he turned on her was charming. She stiffened slightly, for in neither character nor breeding was she of the sort who had thronged around him last night. Still, if her father had thought him to be a rake, he would have called him so.
"I think I will," she accepted his offer. The tavern owners knew enough of the habits of elves to keep fresh fruit on hand during the high season. Berinaeth was delighted and surprised; in voyages with her father to the towns of men, she was used to the rather greasy and tasteless fare of which mortals were queerly fond.
Thranduil read her expression. "It is our own fruit that my people grow. I have just come with the latest pickings. You have not been to Tharbad before, I gather?"
"No. My father does not come here often; he trades more along the western coast. But it has been a good year for fish, and we know not what to do with them all."
"Perhaps a good year for the fisher, but a bad year to be a fish," Thranduil laughed. Berinaeth joined in his merry laugh as he continued, "My business here is finished, though I wait on my companions, who look to the purchase of supplies. I would show you the town, if you do not find my offer presumptuous."
"On the contrary, I would like that, if I can but raise my lazy handmaiden."
"Ai, hirilen, I was up afore dawn," a voice chided behind her.
Ríadel looked none the worse for her early rising, though Berinaeth was quite certain she had been among the elf-maids attending to her breakfast company the previous evening. 'A fine chaperone I shall have to ensure my honor is not besmirched,' the lady thought with amusement.
Thus the three set off to see the burgeoning river town. "It is a fair town, for one of men, but it grows ever larger, which my people do not like," Thranduil told the elf-maids as they paused to watch the brisk business in the marketplace, just off the docks. Already the High King's emissaries and soldiers were common in the town, for Gil-galad foresaw the importance of its location, and Thranduil knew that the growing town would soon impinge upon their pastoral life further south.
"Do you go abroad often with your father?" he asked of Berinaeth.
"As often as I might, though I miss my home and must have my libraries and gardens if I am too long at sea. But we are all that is left of our family, and my father grows lonely."
It was a tale too often told by elves of the Elder Days. "Your mother went West after the War?" Thranduil queried.
"Nay, she was lost in the raid on Brithombar. And my older sister, visiting my father's kin at Nevrast, bound herself to a Noldo and went into Gondolin. We have never had knowledge of her since, though it is said her son and husband came to Arvernien."
"Ah, we were there, but we knew little of the Gondolindrim, for they settled further south, and we were not friendly with the Noldor." A wry expression crossed his face at the understatement of his final words. They had come to the center of town, though the real business of Tharbad was on the river. Once nothing more than thin clapboard shacks, the town center now underwent a rebuilding, and the fine work of stonemasons from Forlindon was evident in the grander places.
Berinaeth looked at her companion's golden braids, betraying a Noldo in his lineage, though she guessed he came from Doriath. 'There is a story there,' she mused. Her mother was sister to Círdan, and his folk had less antipathy toward the Noldor, for the ancient elf had refused to embroil himself in the conflict between the two clans. In the Elder Days, they acknowledged Thingol as High King of their people, but Círdan was his own master, and his ships and warriors had known but one enemy - Morgoth.
As it was now mid-day, the three elves found a grassy lawn on a hill overlooking the river, north of the docks. Here the river was known as the Mitheithel, becoming the Gwathló at Tharbad. The elves ate bread and cheese and shared wine Thranduil had obtained in town, and Berinaeth sang a sad lay of a mariner lost at sea, and his faithful bride who waited each evening on the shore, certain of his return.
She was not, Thranduil admitted, the sort of maid he preferred; indeed, her saucy handmaid was more to his liking. There was a delicate air about her, as fine glass. He knew Aureve, her father, enough to discern that he was no simple fisherman, and he guessed correctly that Berinaeth was close kin to Círdan, for in manner and education she revealed herself to be of his own caste in elven society. Yet, for all her refined sensibilities, he sensed a bit of daring in her; since the death of her mother, she had no doubt become accustomed to the running of her household, and he suspected that in this she deferred to no one, not even her father.
Thranduil courted the lady assiduously; if his preferences would lead him to maids of less refinement, he was not unappreciative of Berinaeth's beauty and quick mind. In the absence of his mother, his spouse would have the role of Bassoneth** among his people. He could not be hasty or foolish in the taking of a wife.
Deeply attached to his daughter and only close kin, Aureve saw that this betrothal would separate them; he would have liked to see her bind herself among the Teleri along the coast. Nevertheless, his capable daughter was meant for loftier purposes than the transport of fish, and as the wife of Oropher's Hîl, Berinaeth would have a special place. The wise elven ruler recognized the insight that was the province of the elleth,**and valued her counsel.
His daughter was indeed eager to put her talents to use. She had grown weary of her life, and she desired a family of her own. Berinaeth had not Thranduil's sensual fire, or he her cool elegance, but in many ways they were much alike, and if there was no passion between the two elves, there was mutual attraction of mind and body. She would have much to occupy her as lady of the house, and she had become quite fond of Oropher. The elf-lord spoke often of his late wife, and the sadness in his voice stirred her heart. She began to understand this family's fear and hatred of the Noldor and their King.
Oropher alone was beset with uncertainties as to his son's sentiment, and perceiving that a betrothal would be made ere long, resolved to speak to Thranduil on the matter. "With your mother, I was fortunate to love and be loved, and I would wish the same on my children," he began, sharing the last of the fine Dorwinion vintage. Easterlings were troubling the trade routes and there had lately been a shortage of the prized wines. "And I assure you your mother would warn you against a loveless marriage," he continued.
Thranduil longed to speak freely to his sire. It was, perhaps, Oropher's chief shortcoming that his affections, good or ill, often overruled careful thought. As elves migrated east into Eriador, and men came west, Thranduil worried that the borders of their realm would soon be challenged. Already Tharbad began to inch south along the river, and the forest around the town was denuded as the growing burg claimed wood for building. Thranduil foresaw that they could not shut themselves entirely of politics in the Havens. Alliances formed of blood relations were strong, and by agent of his father's detested cousin or Berinaeth's close kinship to Círdan, they must have sympathetic voices close to the High King if their sovereignty were to remain inviolate.
He thought also for his sister. He wished for her to be free to bind herself as she chose, and not out of a sense of duty to her family, and he wished also to relieve her of the burden she had been obliged to carry when their mother was slain. For such tasks as settling minor disputes between their people or handling crises of servants in their household, shy Laigil was not suited, and the elf-maid would be relieved to abdicate her duties as Bassoneth.
Turning away at last from the brightly burning hearth, Thranduil considered his words carefully. "It is true that I do not love her as you loved my mother. But my regard for her is not one of cold appraisal. I am not immune to her charms, and take much pleasure in her company. Do not fear for my happiness, Adar. We shall, I think, be content in one another."
925 Second Age, Eriador
White-gold braids whipped around dangerously as the elf-child paused to take a handful of strawberries and turned back to his new friends.
"Caunolas! Tolo si!" The little one bounced impatiently before his mother. "Finish the strawberries and then you may go." The berries were gone in a flash, and to the elf-child's annoyance, he was held back once more while Berinaeth wiped his face and hands.
"A lively one, he is."
Thranduil picked a strawberry from the basket. "Whither does he come by it, I wonder? I grow tired watching him."
"From you, to hear your father tell it," Berinaeth laughed.
Thranduil watched his son at play with the mortal children on the green. Caunolas was smaller than the others, but his elven grace easily surpassed their skill. He smiled; the children of men underestimated the slender elf-child, unaware of his superior abilities. He looked about the town square, always stunned by the rapid changes of Tharbad as its importance waxed, and then his smile faded rapidly. Berinaeth shook her head as her husband abruptly rose and ran from the green.
Thranduil kept the green cloak and golden hair in his sights. The other elf did not hurry her, and he easily caught up with the pair.
"Where do you think to take my sister?" he demanded of the blue and silver-clad elf.
"Thranduil! I am not a child; I do not need your approval of the company I keep," Laigil interjected.
"I think there is a misunderstanding, hîren. I do not accompany against her will, but I hope by her wish and consent," the elf answered.
Thranduil rapidly made sense of this state of affairs, and it pleased him even less. "We will speak on this at home," he told his sister.
"Alas, I did not think my brother and sister would come to town today," Laigil fretted after Thranduil had left them.
Málissë had passed the early part of his life in the Hidden City, and was still somewhat mystified by the loathing of the Iathrim for his father's people. He failed to see the reasoning of an elf who had bound himself to a half-Noldorin spouse but would object to the same for his daughter. Nonetheless, Laigil remained fearful of Oropher's reaction, and Málissë had learned to trust the elf-maid's instincts.
"I wonder that any might deny your wishes, for I am wholly unable to do so myself."
Laigil squeezed his hand. "My brother is not unfair; he will not remain angry."
"Perhaps, then, you will find your father less formidable than you perceive."
Laigil grimaced. "It is not good timing; my father is already upset about the new port, and the migration to Eregion. I do not wish to trouble him further."
"But when, Laigil?" Were circumstances different, they would have been betrothed and bound already. Málissë was not gifted with patience; only his deep affection for the lady retained his hope.
"I cannot tell you. When the time is ripe, I shall know it." And they spoke no more on the subject.
"What are you thinking, Laigil? A servant of the High King? And you go about without a chaperone? How long have you been seeing this Golodh?"
" Guard your temper, brother; I would not have Adar learn of this yet." Laigil had purposely remained in her rooms upon return, knowing that it would be better to let her brother speak his piece than have the night to cultivate his anger.
"And you have deceived us," Thranduil added, unwilling to admit that if his sister had been secretive, her reasons for being so were sound.
"He is half-Sindarin, as Naneth was. And what if he is loyal to the High King? He has done nothing to us."
"You are too trusting, Laigil."
"You do not even know Málissë; it is not your place to decide if I should trust him or not," she answered sharply.
Thranduil softened, surprised by the defiance in his passive sister. "You must care for him a great deal, if you are willing to go to such lengths to share his company."
Laigil smiled shyly. "I do." She turned away. "But I am hesitant before Adar."
"How long have you been thus seeing this Málissë?" he repeated his earlier question, more gently now.
"We met at the midsummer festival a few years ago." She looked up, troubled. "I did not know then that he was a captain at the garrison. I thought to break our friendship when I learned of it, for I did not want to upset Adar. But my heart would not listen."
"Adar will be made to see reason," her brother promised. "He would not wish unhappiness on you."
"You mean you will let Berinaeth persuade him," Laigil laughed.
"Aye, she has a way with our father," Thranduil acknowledged with a smile.
926 Second Age, Eriador
Swollen with spring runoff, the Bruinen ran swift and cold in its steep fall from Hithaeglir, but its waters were slowed by the meandering Mitheithel, more gradual in its descent from the high country. By the time the Mitheithel met the Gwathló at Tharbad, the rapids of the Bruinen had been thoroughly tamed, and even at its high water mark, the Gwathló was easily navigated by raft or boat. The morning was cloudy and cold, threatening rain, and Thranduil made a mental note to ensure the banks along their lands were well shored up against flooding. Faunil, his granite eyes fierce and his face uncharacteristically grim, steered the raft to the shore, and Thranduil followed him into the forest, still ignorant of the Laegel's purpose in raising him from his bed at this early hour.
"I found this yesterday, hîren. The trees have been uneasy of late - ." He broke off as the two elves reached a clearing.
Thranduil was aghast; he could well understand the other elf's unconcealed fury. A clearing it was, but not one made by Yavanna. Raw stumps of once proud trees covered the ground. The devastation ran far, in a wide strip south to a stand of willows marking an offshoot from the river. He had lived among the Laegrim all his life; this plunder was work of men who knew nothing of forest husbandry, or cared nothing for it. "The Gwathuirim did not do this."
"Nay, I think not. They are a strange enough folk, but disturb the forest little. The trees are not afraid of them." Their sensitive ears picked up the noise of men on the river, moving upstream.
"Come, they return." The two elves hid themselves in the softwood trees nearer to the water. Before long, a great crew broke the stillness of the morning. "Númenor! Have they not wood enough in their own land?" Thranduil whispered, recognizing the star of Eärendil. He snatched the cloak of the other elf, recalling Faunil from his intent to challenge the Númenóreans. "Nay! We are only two against many." The other elf nodded, resigned. Having seen what they had come to see, the elves made their way back to the raft on silent feet.
"This bodes ill." Oropher knew the Gwathuirim would not permit their lands to be ravaged without reprisal, and though these primitive men were superstitious and feared the elves, his people's sympathies must lie with their neighbors.
"It is said that Tar-Aldarion enjoys the High King's favor," Berinaeth murmured, distracted by her squirming son, whose interest in the subtleties of Sindarin spelling had long ago flagged. He had learned the lays and songs readily enough, and was enraptured by elven history, but Caunolas saw little point in writing down what he kept easily in his head. Now the talk of the adults had taken a serious turn, and he saw his chance to cut short his lessons.
Berinaeth gave in. "All right then, off with you, tinwegen!" Caunolas hardly paused to greet and take leave of his father before running off.
"To mischief, no doubt," Thranduil smiled, watching him go. He returned to Faunil's discovery. "There is talk in Tharbad of a shadow in the East; Gil-galad likely hopes to stock the ports with allies. We cannot be drawn into this conflict, Adar."
Oropher sighed. His sympathies, too, were with the men who occupied the lands to the south, but his son spoke wisely. "We would bring the might of Forlond upon our heads. Gil-galad must support Númenor, and I would not make an enemy of him."
His late wife's cousin seemed apt to respect their sovereignty, or perhaps ignored them altogether. Nevertheless, Oropher feared his realm to be but a fiefdom, dependent on the will of the High King, and the impression that they were pressed on all sides had begun to gnaw on the elf-lord. North of Tharbad, the remnants of Fëanor's people had founded Ost-in-Edhil; the gates of the city and of Khazad-dûm even bore the star of that accursed clan.** Gil-galad kept a permanent garrison at Tharbad, and now his allies from Númenor crept upstream from the port at Lond Daer.
"You think of moving east again," Thranduil perceived.
Oropher stood at the window, his gaze lighting upon vibrant gardens, cultivated as a wedding gift for Berinaeth; further out, he saw the trees frisking in the breeze, well-pleased to have elves in their midst. It saddened his heart to think of leaving this place. "I fear we may have no choice. These loggers are still well south of us, but how long will they respect our lands? They are men; greed will eventually dismiss any regard or fear they hold before us. And we may not long be able to restrain our people from involvement. Trees are sacred to them."
"Yet the wine traders who travel to and from Dorwinion speak of orcs and other troubles beyond the mountains. It is there that the shadow is strongest." Berinaeth was least disposed to move east, for she had strong ties still to her father.
"Alas, we are neatly caught, for it is the High King's power that holds the shadow back," Thranduil admitted.
"My father speaks more often of the east," Laigil announced to her companion. This matter she had long hesitated to discuss with Málissë.
"It is not safe beyond Hithaeglir; something unwholesome has settled in the wild lands," the captain warned.
Laigil knew this. "My heart tells me we must go east, for good or ill. We cannot remain here." She paused; her next words would be difficult. "If they go, I must go with them. They are my people; I could never be happy in Tharbad."
Frustration bubbled to the surface, and Málissë stopped, turning to face his beloved. "What, then, do you ask of me? You will not allow me to speak to your father, and while I would forsake my post to follow you, I cannot do so without your leave, and your promise. I have waited long, melethen, and my affection remains strong, but my heart despairs."
Tears blurred her sight. Was she overcautious? Her father was not a tyrant; she knew that he would never forbid her marriage. But she wished to have his blessing; she would not have unpleasantness between her love and her father. "It is just so difficult now; it is why my father thinks to go east, whatever dangers we may encounter. You have my heart, do not doubt that. But my father's ill feelings are provoked anew each time he sees the High King's people in town. We will have his blessing, but not now."
The captain held her hands in his, his heart melting; he hated to cause her such distress. "I cannot but wait, then."
Laigil looked toward this east. "It shall not be long, now. Things far beyond us are stirring."
927 Second Age, Eryn Galen
Already ancient when the Sun and Moon were made by the Valar, Brónalm might have been the oldest elf in Arda save Círdan. He had taught the skill and lore of archery to countless young elves, and to the Atani, too, when they came among his people. Cûcherdir - bow-master - his people called him.
Possessed of an adventuresome character, and fearless of the unknown, he had wandered much in Arda, coming even into Beleriand more than once. Ever called to return to his people, he did not settle there, but returned east. In this the Lord of the Waters might have guided him, for Brónalm had a fate of which he was yet unaware, and for which he would be revered among the wood folk. The Eldar would tell of him in no song or book of lore, but in years hence, when the hope of all free peoples of Arda came to rest in a fellowship of nine, the felling of a Nazgûl from his flying steed would be but one feat of Brónalm's favored student.
In these days, Ulmo's thoughts were again drawn to the forgotten ones, and he did not forsake his promise to the elf he had chosen as his messenger. Malice brooded in the east, emboldening the fell creatures that harassed the elves of Eryn Galen. Ulmo saw that only in unity could the Wood Elves withstand the darkness rising. Therefore, from the waters of the Anduin he summoned Brónalm, and sent him west over the mountains.
His journey was long, but Brónalm came at last to the Gwathló, and there he found elves who lived among the trees. Their speech had become strange to him, but he had learned some Sindarin in his travels, and the elves knew him as one of their long-sundered clan in the east. At his urging, they brought him before their lord.
Brónalm knew at once the emerald green standard, hung proudly in the elf-lord's hall, for it was that of his dead King. He knew, too, the mark embroidered on the standard, for this he had seen in his dreams - a leaf of verdant green, the emblem of the House of Lasgalen.
He bowed before the silver-haired elf and spoke a single word.
"Aranen."
- * I Phedh-rînath
- The Forgotten Ones (from pen-, without + rîn, remembrance + -ath, group plural)
- * Laegrim
- Green Elves (Laiquendi)
- ** Nogrod and Belegost
- The dwarves of Nogrod sacked Doriath; those in Belegost tried to stop them. Both cities were probably destroyed when the Ered Luin broke apart at the end of the First Age. Since Beren & his party killed most of the dwarves of Nogrod, the dwarves of Belegost were those who went to Khazad-dûm, where Durin's folk already lived. (ref. The Silmarillion)
- * Belain
- Valar
- ** East Road
- The North-South Road probably developed with Tharbad, which I'm assuming was no more than a small settlement at the beginning of the Second Age. The East-West Road must have been well established, as there was some traffic to and from Khazad-dûm during the First Age. However, the Baranduin would have to be crossed at Sarn Ford, since the Brandywine Bridge did not yet exist, and thus the western leg of the East-West Road as it appears on the maps in LOTR would not exist, either.
- * ferin
- beech trees
- * muindoren
- my brother
- * Adar
- Father
- * Hebo vronwen. Ad radathag am mbar gîn, muindoren.
- Keep your strength. Again you will find a way to your home, my brother.
- ** … take wood only as they needed it
- One of the most unintentionally amusing lines in The Silmarillion is the complaint of the Green Elves to Finrod, regarding the arrival of the Atani: "And these folk are hewers of the trees and hunters of beasts; therefore we are their unfriends… . " (p. 166, pub. Ballantine/Del Rey) However, in The Hobbit we find the elves hunting and cutting trees for wood, and we are told in The Silmarillion that the elves of the east befriended men (we also know that Thranduil's people had strong ties to men). I have taken this line to indicate that the Edain cut trees without proper consideration for reforestation, since the Green Elves must have used wood themselves, having little else with which to build and make items of need. Even if they lived in the trees with no other shelter or furniture, they must have needed wood to make bows and arrows, rafts for crossing the many rivers of their land, and so forth.
- * Eryn Galen
- Greenwood the Great
- ** death of their King
- This would be Lenwë, whose end is unknown. After leaving the host of Olwë, he is not again mentioned, except as the father of Denethor. I assume, however, that he was gone, perhaps targeted by Morgoth precisely to bring disunity to Lenwë's people, by the time Oropher and his company arrived.
- * Amon Lanc
- ancient name of Dol Guldur
- ** blue and silver of Gil-galad's people
- These are actually the colors of Fingolfin's house; gold, white and blue appear to be associated with Finarfin's house. The device of Gil-galad was blue and silver (ref. J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist & Illustrator, by Wayne G. Hammond and Christina Scull) but the emendation making Gil-galad a descendant of Angrod was quite late in Tolkien's writings. I'm not certain of the colors associated with the Falathrim, but one appellation used for them was 'Blue Elves'. Green was definitely the color of both Denethor and Thranduil (ref. The Silmarillion and The Hobbit).
- * Anor
- the sun
- * hirilen
- my lady
- ** Bassoneth
- Breadgiver - this was the title given to the highest woman among her people. She alone kept the secret of making lembas. (ref. The Peoples of Middle-Earth, 'Of Lembas') The spelling is from Didier Willis' Hiswelókë, The Sindarin Dictionary Project and based on reconstruction by David Salo.
- * Hîl
- Heir
- ** elleth
- female elf - there are few examples, since most of Tolkien's wives wisely refused to follow their husbands into exile (or perhaps this is the first example of the better sense of elven wives). Melian gave her husband a great deal of advice (though she was a Maia, and would be expected to have wisdom). Idril was an important counselor to her father. In both cases, the kings faltered when they ignored the advice of these women.
- * Caunolas! Tolo si!
- Caunolas! Come here!
- * hîren
- my lord
- * Iathrim
- People of Doriath
- * Golodh
- Noldo
- * Laegel
- Green elf
- * Gwathuirim
- Dunlendings, who occupied the region of the lower Gwathló until driven out by the Númenóreans. (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn' and 'Aldarion and Erendis')
- * tinwegen
- my little spark
- ** the star of that accursed clan
- The Star of Fëanor was displayed on the west door of Khazad-dûm, no doubt symbolizing Celebrimbor. (ref. LOTR) It seems likely that the people of Curufin and Celegorm, having deserted the brothers due to their shenanigans at Nargothrond, were led thereafter by Celebrimbor, and many may have followed him to Eregion, out of loyalty to their lord and a shared passion for smith work.
- * melethen
- my love
- * Aranen
- My King