Quenta Nárion Chapter 2
The swanships came up the Firth of Drengist as ghosts on the dark, starlit waters. Panic erupted among the followers of Feanor. The sons of Feanor tried to calm the people, but it was not an easy task. Many of the Noldor believed the swanships to be the ghosts of the slain Teleri who had traveled on the ships that they'd burned to seek revenge. Maedhros sent Celegorm and Curufin out to investigate. They rode with great speed to the Firth of Drengist and returned just as quickly.
"The waters are dark and distinctly uninviting," Celegorm reported. "The tears of Uinen that drowned some of our ships was but a small display of what the Noldor shall endure if we venture out to the Sea."
"Wonderful." Caranthir laughed.
"What of the swanships?" Maedhros asked.
"They are not those of the Teleri," Curufin said. "The light is dim and there are no lamplights as there were in Alqualonde, but still we were clearly able to see that these ships are different in design. I spoke with some of the native Elves of the shore, and they told me that they are the ships of Cirdan the Shipwright, kinsman of Elwe and Olwe."
"Is it possible that he has heard the news of the Kinslaying?" Amras asked. "Do you think he comes to seek revenge?"
"Nay, Ambarussa," Curufin said. "There is no way for them to so quickly hear this news. Those Falathrim with whom I spoke knew nothing of the Noldor, but they recognized Tyelkormo and myself to be different from themselves. They did not inquire further, but in our eyes, they can see our greater power and wisdom."
"I think then that it would be best to meet these swanships and their leader," Maedhros said. "I do not trust any others to watch over our father. Ambarussa will both stay behind to guard our father."
"Both," Maglor repeated softly.
Maedhros coughed lightly. "Sorry. Telvo will stay with father. The rest of you will come with me. I want to put on a display of strength for our long sundered kinsmen. Macalaure and Curvo will act as translators."
"I have only had time to study the language of the Northern Elves," Maglor said. "Father had noted that the Northern and Western Elves speak different dialects. I don't know how helpful I'll be."
"It's easy," Curufin said. "I've not studied the Western language much either, but the Falathrim speak a more arcane form of Sindarin. It is no more difficult than studying text of ancient Quendi." He looked to all his brothers. "I will teach you some basic speech of the Falathrim. Russandol, I suggest we begin by changing our names to Sindarin form."
"Very well then. When will the ships of Cirdan be here?"
"How are we to know?" Celegorm snapped. "Without the waxing and waning of the Two Trees, there is no way to tell time."
Curufin hushed his older brother. "I estimate two days, if time still moved forward as it did before."
In those two days, the sons of Feanor prepared to meet Cirdan and the Falathrim. The swanships arrived soon enough, and the sons of Feanor rode forth from Mithrim to meet them at the Firth. The Falathrim had not expected to be met at the Firth and were impressed by the knowledge of their great kin. They held a feast at Cirith Ninniach.
"I am afraid that I cannot stay long, for my Havens of the Falas are in ruin. Your timely arrival drew off the army of Orcs that had been assaulting my lands, and so I have come to thank you. Please accept these treasures as thanks and as a sign of our friendship, King of the Noldor." Cirdan's servants brought forth urns of phosphorous pearls, white and pink and black spheres of the Sea. The sons of Feanor looked to the pearls and remembered the pearls that decorated the harbors of Alqualonde. How was it that the Teleri and the Eglath were so similar? Though they were not ghosts, the very presence of the Falathrim seemed to be a scolding for the Noldor. Fortunately, those who had come with the sons of Feanor were strong and loyal. They did not show any signs of their discomfort, though the shadow of the Kinslaying haunted them all.
"I am not the King of the Noldor. I am Prince Maedhros, grandson of Finwe and son of Feanor, High King of the Noldor." Maedhros used the names that Curufin had hastily devised.
"Ah, my apologies." Cirdan bowed. "I saw in your eyes the great presence of Finwe and assumed too much. So then Finwe has abdicated in favor of his son? How is Finwe? He and I were friends of old." The sons of Feanor shifted but retained their composure.
"King Finwe was slain by the Dark Shadow before he fled Valinor to trouble these lands," Maedhros said. "It is for this reason that we have come forth from the Blessed Realm to assail Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World."
After Curufin had translated Maedhros's words, Cirdan sat silent with head bowed for several moments. At last, he sighed and said, "If that is the case, then I will aid your cause in any way I can. I am afraid the Falathrim cannot be of much assistance right now. We are ourselves recovering from the attack of the armies of Morgoth, as I've said before. But if there is anything else we can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. In addition to the gift of pearls, please allow me to give you some water from my fountains in Eglarest. The water is clean and clear, and Lord Ulmo has blessed the water. Many of my people were wounded in the battle against the Orcs, and our healing craft has improved with time, but the plants that the healers use are second to the waters of Ulmo, which we use sparingly and only in dire need." He looked at Maedhros with his bright eyes, and Maedhros wondered how a Dark Elf could have beheld such light. "Do I not perceive correctly that King Feanor must be wounded? For if he was not, would he not greet me himself?"
"He would if the thought you worth his time," Caranthir said. The guilt and discomfort of dealing with one so closely akin to the Teleri of Alqualonde had made Caranthir edgy. Maedhros gave his brother a stern look, and Caranthir quieted. Curufin did not translate his brother's comment.
"You are correct. My father is not feeling well," Maedhros said.
"Then I hope this will help." Cirdan drew forth a flask and handed it to Maedhros. "A drop of the water on his lips will awaken him, and then allow him to drink as much as he needs. The water can also be applied directly to a wound."
Maedhros thanked him and accepted the flask eagerly. Nothing else had brought Feanor out of his coma. The sons of Feanor were ready to try any potential remedy. Maedhros and Cirdan conversed for some time more, but the conversation was still difficult. When Curufin tired of translating, Maglor took over. Even then, they were sometimes at a loss for words, and communication was slow. Maedhros asked if Cirdan would like to travel with them back to Mithrim, and much to his relief, Cirdan refused, for he was needed back at Eglarest and Brithombar, the main towns of the Falas. After the feast at Cirith Ninniach, the sons of Feanor returned to Mithrim. Their father was still tenaciously holding onto life, but Amras reported that he had not stirred or awakened since their departure.
Celegorm was the most skilled at healing, for though he hunted, he also had much experience tending to wounded animals and caring for his own pets. He dripped a single drop of the Water of Ulmo onto the lips of Feanor as his brothers watched in anticipation. The drop of water slipped between Feanor's lips into his mouth, but the Spirit of Fire did not stir. Celegorm wetted a cloth with the water and carefully wiped the places where the fires of the Balrogs had most wounded Feanor. He wetted the cloth again only when necessary. The burn marks wiped away as if they had only been ink on skin. Celegorm instructed Curufin to aid him, and together, they carefully propped Feanor upright. Celegorm poured a small amount of the water into Feanor's mouth and allowed none to drip by accident from the flask or from Feanor's lips. Their father swallowed. He drank again. And he drank a third time. Then his eyes flared open, and the fire in his bright eyes was so great that his sons drew away.
Feanor lived! Since his torment upon the brink of death and striving in the mind with Morgoth, Feanor's spirit burned like a red fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.
At that very moment, Fingolfin let blow his silver trumpets and began his march into Middle Earth. Isil rose into the realm of the stars, and the world had moonlight for the first time since the Lamps had been overthrown.
Morgoth saw the new light and how it frightened the Orcs, who had already been badly defeated by the Noldor and would have been utterly destroyed if not for the Balrogs. He heard the clear trumpets of the host of Fingolfin and saw their long and black shadows stretch out over the lands. And he felt the Spirit of Fire awaken and curse his name, and he realized overly late that he should not have allowed Feanor to live. Morgoth saw that his designs had got astray, and then, although he was the greatest of beings upon the world, Morgoth alone of the Valar knew fear.
By: Cirdan
The swanships came up the Firth of Drengist as ghosts on the dark, starlit waters. Panic erupted among the followers of Feanor. The sons of Feanor tried to calm the people, but it was not an easy task. Many of the Noldor believed the swanships to be the ghosts of the slain Teleri who had traveled on the ships that they'd burned to seek revenge. Maedhros sent Celegorm and Curufin out to investigate. They rode with great speed to the Firth of Drengist and returned just as quickly.
"The waters are dark and distinctly uninviting," Celegorm reported. "The tears of Uinen that drowned some of our ships was but a small display of what the Noldor shall endure if we venture out to the Sea."
"Wonderful." Caranthir laughed.
"What of the swanships?" Maedhros asked.
"They are not those of the Teleri," Curufin said. "The light is dim and there are no lamplights as there were in Alqualonde, but still we were clearly able to see that these ships are different in design. I spoke with some of the native Elves of the shore, and they told me that they are the ships of Cirdan the Shipwright, kinsman of Elwe and Olwe."
"Is it possible that he has heard the news of the Kinslaying?" Amras asked. "Do you think he comes to seek revenge?"
"Nay, Ambarussa," Curufin said. "There is no way for them to so quickly hear this news. Those Falathrim with whom I spoke knew nothing of the Noldor, but they recognized Tyelkormo and myself to be different from themselves. They did not inquire further, but in our eyes, they can see our greater power and wisdom."
"I think then that it would be best to meet these swanships and their leader," Maedhros said. "I do not trust any others to watch over our father. Ambarussa will both stay behind to guard our father."
"Both," Maglor repeated softly.
Maedhros coughed lightly. "Sorry. Telvo will stay with father. The rest of you will come with me. I want to put on a display of strength for our long sundered kinsmen. Macalaure and Curvo will act as translators."
"I have only had time to study the language of the Northern Elves," Maglor said. "Father had noted that the Northern and Western Elves speak different dialects. I don't know how helpful I'll be."
"It's easy," Curufin said. "I've not studied the Western language much either, but the Falathrim speak a more arcane form of Sindarin. It is no more difficult than studying text of ancient Quendi." He looked to all his brothers. "I will teach you some basic speech of the Falathrim. Russandol, I suggest we begin by changing our names to Sindarin form."
"Very well then. When will the ships of Cirdan be here?"
"How are we to know?" Celegorm snapped. "Without the waxing and waning of the Two Trees, there is no way to tell time."
Curufin hushed his older brother. "I estimate two days, if time still moved forward as it did before."
In those two days, the sons of Feanor prepared to meet Cirdan and the Falathrim. The swanships arrived soon enough, and the sons of Feanor rode forth from Mithrim to meet them at the Firth. The Falathrim had not expected to be met at the Firth and were impressed by the knowledge of their great kin. They held a feast at Cirith Ninniach.
"I am afraid that I cannot stay long, for my Havens of the Falas are in ruin. Your timely arrival drew off the army of Orcs that had been assaulting my lands, and so I have come to thank you. Please accept these treasures as thanks and as a sign of our friendship, King of the Noldor." Cirdan's servants brought forth urns of phosphorous pearls, white and pink and black spheres of the Sea. The sons of Feanor looked to the pearls and remembered the pearls that decorated the harbors of Alqualonde. How was it that the Teleri and the Eglath were so similar? Though they were not ghosts, the very presence of the Falathrim seemed to be a scolding for the Noldor. Fortunately, those who had come with the sons of Feanor were strong and loyal. They did not show any signs of their discomfort, though the shadow of the Kinslaying haunted them all.
"I am not the King of the Noldor. I am Prince Maedhros, grandson of Finwe and son of Feanor, High King of the Noldor." Maedhros used the names that Curufin had hastily devised.
"Ah, my apologies." Cirdan bowed. "I saw in your eyes the great presence of Finwe and assumed too much. So then Finwe has abdicated in favor of his son? How is Finwe? He and I were friends of old." The sons of Feanor shifted but retained their composure.
"King Finwe was slain by the Dark Shadow before he fled Valinor to trouble these lands," Maedhros said. "It is for this reason that we have come forth from the Blessed Realm to assail Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World."
After Curufin had translated Maedhros's words, Cirdan sat silent with head bowed for several moments. At last, he sighed and said, "If that is the case, then I will aid your cause in any way I can. I am afraid the Falathrim cannot be of much assistance right now. We are ourselves recovering from the attack of the armies of Morgoth, as I've said before. But if there is anything else we can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. In addition to the gift of pearls, please allow me to give you some water from my fountains in Eglarest. The water is clean and clear, and Lord Ulmo has blessed the water. Many of my people were wounded in the battle against the Orcs, and our healing craft has improved with time, but the plants that the healers use are second to the waters of Ulmo, which we use sparingly and only in dire need." He looked at Maedhros with his bright eyes, and Maedhros wondered how a Dark Elf could have beheld such light. "Do I not perceive correctly that King Feanor must be wounded? For if he was not, would he not greet me himself?"
"He would if the thought you worth his time," Caranthir said. The guilt and discomfort of dealing with one so closely akin to the Teleri of Alqualonde had made Caranthir edgy. Maedhros gave his brother a stern look, and Caranthir quieted. Curufin did not translate his brother's comment.
"You are correct. My father is not feeling well," Maedhros said.
"Then I hope this will help." Cirdan drew forth a flask and handed it to Maedhros. "A drop of the water on his lips will awaken him, and then allow him to drink as much as he needs. The water can also be applied directly to a wound."
Maedhros thanked him and accepted the flask eagerly. Nothing else had brought Feanor out of his coma. The sons of Feanor were ready to try any potential remedy. Maedhros and Cirdan conversed for some time more, but the conversation was still difficult. When Curufin tired of translating, Maglor took over. Even then, they were sometimes at a loss for words, and communication was slow. Maedhros asked if Cirdan would like to travel with them back to Mithrim, and much to his relief, Cirdan refused, for he was needed back at Eglarest and Brithombar, the main towns of the Falas. After the feast at Cirith Ninniach, the sons of Feanor returned to Mithrim. Their father was still tenaciously holding onto life, but Amras reported that he had not stirred or awakened since their departure.
Celegorm was the most skilled at healing, for though he hunted, he also had much experience tending to wounded animals and caring for his own pets. He dripped a single drop of the Water of Ulmo onto the lips of Feanor as his brothers watched in anticipation. The drop of water slipped between Feanor's lips into his mouth, but the Spirit of Fire did not stir. Celegorm wetted a cloth with the water and carefully wiped the places where the fires of the Balrogs had most wounded Feanor. He wetted the cloth again only when necessary. The burn marks wiped away as if they had only been ink on skin. Celegorm instructed Curufin to aid him, and together, they carefully propped Feanor upright. Celegorm poured a small amount of the water into Feanor's mouth and allowed none to drip by accident from the flask or from Feanor's lips. Their father swallowed. He drank again. And he drank a third time. Then his eyes flared open, and the fire in his bright eyes was so great that his sons drew away.
Feanor lived! Since his torment upon the brink of death and striving in the mind with Morgoth, Feanor's spirit burned like a red fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.
At that very moment, Fingolfin let blow his silver trumpets and began his march into Middle Earth. Isil rose into the realm of the stars, and the world had moonlight for the first time since the Lamps had been overthrown.
Morgoth saw the new light and how it frightened the Orcs, who had already been badly defeated by the Noldor and would have been utterly destroyed if not for the Balrogs. He heard the clear trumpets of the host of Fingolfin and saw their long and black shadows stretch out over the lands. And he felt the Spirit of Fire awaken and curse his name, and he realized overly late that he should not have allowed Feanor to live. Morgoth saw that his designs had got astray, and then, although he was the greatest of beings upon the world, Morgoth alone of the Valar knew fear.
By: Cirdan