Chapter 4 The Departure of Elw
The days grew fell. Rumours came of a growing evil in the distant north. Whereas before the elves knew not what to make of the mounting gloom; now they had Oromë to interpret the signs for them. And there was much to interpret; for Oromë was wise and knew them for the works of Melkor. And so he counselled the elves against Melkor, but there were still those who thought that Oromë brought their dis-ease.
To them Elwë said, 'Can you not see that Oromë is not evil?'
'You are young according to our years, Elwë, and you give little heed to the shadows that walk this land.'
Another chimed in, 'This was not the first time that Oromë flew over the sky, and when he came ere chill entered our very souls.'
But Olwë argued for his brother, 'How do you know that it was Oromë before, and not some demon of the night? For with Oromë's coming no chill entered our souls, rather he brought wisdom to us.'
Then a noble elf-lord that all did revere as wise, Ingwë spoke: 'It is true that Oromë has taught us much, but it is also true that evil abodes in this world, and it would do to take caution. For numbers of my own kin dared to wander from Cuiviénon and they came not back. What fate was theirs? Perhaps they journeyed to the far-off land that Oromë spoke of, and dwell now in bliss? Or perhaps Oromë made them into slaves? Or perhaps ill fate fell upon them indeed, though it came not from our guest's hands? I know not the answer, but I counsel ye: do as your hearts bid ye concerning this stranger, for if you listen to what they would say, truth shall be yours. But as for me, I will treat him courteously, for my heart says that he is not evil.'
An uneasy silence followed his speech, for they realized the insight of his words. Then, Elwë and Olwë spoke in favour of the Lord Oromë and many were swayed, but many still doubted Oromë and they left Cuiviénon.
Those that stayed and welcomed Oromë were soon glad that they did so, for he was wise and good, and taught them much to know. Thus, with Oromë amongst them, they were happy despite the growing evil.
Lomiel was among those who stayed, but her reason for doing so was that she wished not to be parted with Elwë. And though she was one of the first to realize the goodness in Oromë, her dislike of him grew with each passing day.
Elwë noticed this. In his great respect for him, Elwë was greatly hurt. 'Lomiel, what grudge do you bear our guest?'
But Lomiel said nothing, keeping her eyes resolutely to the ground. For how could she tell him that she was jealous? Jealous of Oromë, who was taking up all his time?
Elwë sighed at Lomiel's stubbornness. It amazed him how much Lomiel had changed from her quiet, shy self. 'I do not know how he may have offended you, but on his behalf, I apologize. I know him, and I know that the last thing he would want is to offend you.'
Lomiel still said nothing, though she had to exercise great self-control not to yell at Elwë. How could he be so blind as to not realize how excluded she felt? 'Why are things so different between us?' She asked.
'Oh Lomiel, you cannot expect life to be as carefree as it was when we were young.'
'You speak as if you are an old man,' quoth Lomiel, 'not like the young elf that you are.'
'For my part, I do not feel it,' replied Elwë. 'Oromë is wise and from him I have learned much of the outside world.'
He stared out into the dark world of which he spoke. Bitterly Lomiel said, 'And what has the all-knowing Oromë taught you?'
Elwë stirred at her voice. He looked at the elf-maid standing besides him, as if seeing her for the first time. Instead of answering, he brushed a strand of stray hair from her eyes. Lomiel blushed and looked down, the jealousy temporarily calmed. When her eyes regained their courage and wandered up to Elwë's face, he smiled sadly. 'Why do I speak to you of such sorrow? Now you are unhappy; I can see it in your eyes. But come, Lomiel, listen not to my ramblings. They will mar your fair thoughts, and I would not have you know pain.'
Lomiel's heart beat faster; did Elwë love her, as she did him?
Elwë continued, 'It has been a blessing to know you, my dear Lomiel. All the other maidens look at me differently: as a possible husband. I do not know how to act around them or what to do to please them.' He smiled wistfully. 'But I care only for running and hunting: for these are the pastimes of men. But you, Lomiel, are different. For I know that I can speak freely with you.'
Why, then, did he no longer speak with her? She wondered. Why, then, was she discarded like his broken bows? A little voice in her head answered the question: because he no longer had time for her. Because Orom took up all of his time and energy. All the anger and hurt that she had ever felt flared up within her. It was always Oromë this and Oromë that. Her voice came out harsher than she had intended it: 'I am different, am I not? Verily you speak, for I know no other maiden who would stand quietly while the one that she loved was being snatched by her, and by a man no less!' With that she sprang away, leaving Elwë alone, wondering what had just happened.
She flew through the woods, as swift as a hunted hart, and as livid as a lion roused from sleep. But the farther she ran, the more her anger ebbed away. At last Lomiel fell to the mossy ground, exhausted and heartbroken. My sweet Elwë, she thought, How much have I hurt you? But your hurt is less than mine! With that, she sobbed her way to the Land of Dreams.
Lomiel was in a long, thin box. She tried to sit up, but only succeeded in hitting her head. She pounded on the sides, screaming for help. But nobody heard her. At last, her throat sore, she stopped yelling. Instead, tears fell rapidly down her cheeks.
Finally, when she thought the box would flood from her crying, she heard footsteps. Someone lifted the box's top.
As soon as the top was lifted, Loniel sat up. 'Thank you---'
The girl in front of her repeated, 'Thank you---' She had short, stringy brown hair and haunted brown eyes. Her skin was pale and waxy. Out of both of her writss blood poured like a raging river, and one of her hands was bleeding as well. Strangely, she looked familiar.
'Who are you?' Lomiel asked nervously.
'That's not important. What's important is, who are you?' While she spoke, she pulled Lomiel out of the box.
'What---I don't---' Lomiel stopped talking as the girl climbed into the box and shut the lid.
As if this was something she did everyday, from inside the girl called pleasantly, 'Would you mind making sure the lid's closed completely? We wouldn't want to be suffocated by the dirt, would we?'
Lomiel did as she was told, although she was extremely perplexed. Suddenly, she heard a loud rumbling. Slowly, she turned around. Before she could even scream, she was buried.
One day, the whole community gathered besides the shore of their beautiful lake. Lomiel made sure that she was as far from Elwë as possible. On his great horse, Oromë sat before them. The crowd was subdued, for he was leaving, and they had grown used to his protecting presence. But Oromë comforted, 'This shall not be the last that we see of each other, Children of Ilúvatar. I go now to my kin in Valinor, who will be pleased to hear of you, but soon I shall return with news. Farewell!'
With his leaving, the shadow that he held back came to Cuiviénon again, more swiftly than ever. And the elves' heart was filled with fear and doubt, for in the darkness fell creatures walked and defiled the beautiful land.
Elwë was often away with the men, hunting these beasts, so Lomiel was able to avoid him. What did he think of her now?
Her nightmares had returned in a shocking frequency. Several dreams a night disturbed her sleep. She grew thin; her fair complexion grew pallid; dark circles lined her eyes. But this was not uncommon: the days were long and cold and food was scarce.
But before long Oromë was back from Valinor, and for a moment, it seemed that all would be well again. Unfortunately, Oromë's tidings were not good, for he spoke of a war that the mysterious Valar would wage. On the elves' behalf, they would destroy the threatening Shadow. And even as he spoke, great thundering shook the earth, as if thousands of horses bearing thousands of riders galloped across the world.
Then, just as Oromë had appeared to the elves, more beings on horses landed amid them. They were clothed in bright armour that shone as brightly as the stars, but the elves feared them. 'Be not alarmed!' They cried. 'We are here to protect ye, and as long as we guard this land, Melkor shall not harm ye!'
But there was more than one elf that wondered if Melkor was not the one that they should fear.
So The Battle of the Powers raged around them. However, other than what they heard from their guardians and Oromë, the elves of Cuiviénon knew nothing of the battle, save the groaning of the earth beneath them and the flickering of lights in the north.
But one day, Lomiel awoke to a glorious spring morning. The air was pure and in the wind was change. Thus, the elves knew that the Battle of the Powers was over.
Oromë left them again, and with them went their guardians. But this time, the elves were glad that they left, for they feared the Valar who changed the courses of streams and rivers and broke the land beneath them.
But again Oromë returned to them, and again he brought news that the elves liked little: 'Manwë, Lord of the Skies summons those that would come to Valinor.'
But who was this Lord of the Skies? He was a mere name to the elves: a bringer of destruction to the world as they knew it. So the elves refused the summons. But Oromë, who they trusted, counselled them to choose ambassadors of their people to go to Valinor and speak to the Lord of the Skies.
Ingwë was chosen, as was the elf Finwë. But when the household of Vinye elected their lord, Elwë strode forth. 'Father, let me go in your stead. The road to Valinor is full of perils, and you must lead our people.' So it was decided: Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë would go to Valinor to represent their people.
The date of departure arrived, and all the elves had gathered to see the three off. Lomiel ran through the crowd towards Elwë. She stopped by the horse that Oromë had provided him. 'Elwë, you must not go!'
Elwë looked at her, though she could not read his expression. 'Why not?'
'Because…because…' Lomiel bit her lip.
'Hurry, Elwë son of Vinye,' called Olwë.
Elwë nodded and turned to Lomiel, 'the days that I heeded your words are over. Without another word, he rode off into the distance.