The sun sets over the widened ocean revealing the stars of a different land
yet not unknown to they who walk immortally upon the earth, for they were
born before the moon and sun took flight. They know these stars for they
traveled beneath them an age before, to the Blessed realm of Aman. It is
upon the shores of what was once the valley of the Ered Luin, that Celebrin
Elornion, Last of the House of Uial, stands before the setting of the sun
to watch the stars of the new land. His face shines with a radiance akin to
the twilight of the world, before Arda was marred by the malice of Morgoth
the defeated foe. Yet his face, though reminiscent of a time before the
breaking of the world, is not fully without marring. For upon his pure
countenance, that reflects his birth right and surname, lays the scares of
an age filled with joy and sorrow, darkness and light. It is called the
sickle of Doriath, for the sight of it among the Kin-slayers, brings sorrow
to deeds that guilt will never free them of. For in their minds plays the
scene of a child, fey and filled with wrath and rage, before the body of
his mother, slain. The very sight of him brings to their hearts unending
grief, yet to the hearts of the Teleri it brings hope unlooked for. For in
their hearts, lies still the burning anger for the destruction of their
blessed realms of Menegroth and the refuge of Balar. This youth stands upon
the broken shore and looks at the sun in her descent, and he cringes at
the sight of her brightness, as he is a son of Doriath, a person of the
stars.
His thoughts are many and diverse, recalling the end of his beloved land, the grave of his father resting at the bottom of the sea, though he was buried on a hill, and the ashes of his mother scattered among the forest, that now lay beneath the waves. He recalls the Battle of the Valar who now left with many of the Edain, with rumors of a new land for them to call their own. Many of his folk were gone too, seeking the bliss of the Blessed Isle, away from memories of the Darker times. Yet many remained loyal to Cirdan and Celeborn most beloved of the princes and lords of Doriath. Even now they prepared to move eastward towards the rising moon. And they would leave him again, his people, though not utterly as the others had. They left now because the blood of the Kin-slaying at Doriath and Balar still ran hot among them, and many "high"-elves remained there, because of Erenion, the last high-king of the Noldor; though more alike to Finrod his father, who was friend to many Sindar people, and he was skilled, this king, in the culture of the Sindar, and in that he was beloved and respected by Cirdan and his people.
"Why do you look at the sun as she leaves, when the Moon arrives and greets you fairly?"
The voice was well known to Celebrin, and it brought a shy smile to his face in all his thoughts of sundering and kin-slaying. Yes those days are over... To the voice he turned his head and replied,
"Mae govannen, mellon nin, I have no reason, I am afraid, as to why I look at the fleeting sun rather than the oncoming moon, it is possible that I hope for the gray ships to return, and bring back the fair folk of Valinor."
The reply was aimed at a fair elf, whose beauty matched his comrade's, yet was not of the twilight, but rather of the dark sea in the nightime of the new world, fleeting yet returning still to beat upon the shores of sorrow. This youth bore joy in his countenance despite his previous sorrow, and his face shone as a lamp lit sea, dim yet brilliantly beautiful. Like his Noldor kin, his eyes bore the light of Aman, though he never saw it himself, and thus their dark earthen hue was turned into brilliant hazel, colored as the wheat fields in the autumn. His hair was dark and shimmered in the dusk, yet did not shine as brilliantly dark as his companion's, for the latter was born of Doriath, to a family well known for their reflection of the twilight.
Their eyes met, one hazel the other sea gray, and thy smiled at one another in voiceless jest, and continued their conversation for the ears of the sea. Celebrin sighed and said, "Alas Alphindil, you do bring joy to my heart again, you are never without sorrow."
"Alas that you call me such a name, tis not my own."
"Were it not for your attire, I would have chosen another name for you my friend."
Celebrin referred to the clothing his friend always wore, which was decorated in some way or another by swans, either embroidered or by another means. For indeed he dressed as one of Vanyimar, and his family had always held a special devotion to them as sailors. At the mention of his attire Alphindil touched a brooch he always wore even if he did not wear a cloak, for it was dear to him. It was in the figure of a swan in flight, made of a strange black material that shimmered darkly in the light of the sun, and was made all the more beautiful by the winding mithril design that enhanced its dark beauty and held a shimmering pearl, taken from the shores of Nevrast. He looked at it and laughed to himself.
"Such things we must all wear, lest we forget the travails of past years, for is that not why you wear your tear," he said touching the scar upon his friend's right cheek. At the caress of his friend Celebrin laughed silently, thinking of his friend's comparison of the scar he came to loathe and the treasure his friend cherished. He turned his head to the sea and felt the cool western breeze caress his face, filling his nose with its salty, ancient fragrance, at which point he said,
"One must laugh, else they cry and waste away. Tell me mellon, have you decided where you are to go?"
Alphindil gazed into the west and then gave out a sigh, "Why do you ask me such a question? Is it not apparent that the ships have already left?"
"I did not mean to the west my friend," Celebrin turned from the sea and walked towards the uncarved cliffs now lined with huts, "many of my folk wish to leave the shores of this land, and go where the trees grow tall and have not been changed by the malice of time and war. And for my part my heart yearns for the woods again, yet here by the shore lives my lord Cirdan, who's rule and manner I have become accustomed to. Which would you choose?"
"Cirdan is a mighty lord, yet if I know my friend well enough, you still bear some resentment towards the Noldor who now dwell with King Erenion, even though many have left to Valinor or with Celebrimor. Is that not why you wish to follow your kinsmen? And if indeed that is the way you feel, you are torn between your pledge to Cirdan, who took you in as an orphan, and your own people who move east as we speak."
Celebrin smiled at this and said, "You were always one for many words, yet it is not my resentment for your father-people why I wish to follow the Sindar. My family has always served the family of the King of Doriath, yet now with Doriath gone, I know not my place in the world."
"Must you have a place?"
This voice came from beside them and when they turned to see its origin they were surprised to see a tall figure, whose head was wreathed in a silver light and whose face was hale in it's glory.
"My lord...", Celebrin motioned to bend on one knee, yet was stopped by the figure, who grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Stand Elornion, you need not bow to me, it is not the fashion of our people to bend on one's knee unless he be a King of great renown, and he is not here."
"Forgive me for this, you took me by surprise. I...I did not intend for you..."
"And yet I did hear your speech Elornion Uial... it has been the concern of many of our people, to leave or to go, and to sunder all that we have built. Your family Elornion, has always chosen the gray of life, believe me when I tell you this, you have no obligation to me, or to Cirdan, merely to yourself; A life of servitude is not what your parent's wished for you."
And with that the elven lord left as silently as he had arrived, seeming only to be a shadow of a dream, and the two companions stood motionless at what had happened; for it was one thing to speak with an Elven lord in the midst of battle, but in times of peace such things gave way to propriety. And the two sat on the shore line until the weight of the chance encounter and a surprisingly casual one, had left them, and then as if it was hidden in a wrapped box their laughter burst out of them. And when that had subsided the night was already an hour old, laughter gave way to sighing, and then silence emersed them. And naught was heard between them until Celebrin spoke at long last after the moon had past the parapet of the sky.
"What would you chose mellon nin? The sea or the woods?"
"You know my choice, I am by all accounts an Elf of the sea, though born of both Noldo and Sindar, Erenion is my lord, it is the way of my people to gather in strength. We are not like you, able to seek a solitary life. Even though I fear another sundering between us, if you choose the woods I would not begrudge you that."
Celebrin listened to his friend, the only person who understood his sorrow, though would never understand his anger at his half-people. The elf spoke so stoically, so coldly that it seemed unbearable to hear it, and his face could not be searched for emotion only understanding that what he spoke was the truth. Alphindil's whole life had been by the sea, to ask him to leave it now would be as if he asked him to leave behind that which he held most dear. Their bond was undeniable, for them to part now, when all Eldar were in most need of rekindled friendship was to be torn from their own selves. The tragedies they had known, forced them together and from that union they formed an unlikely bond amidst all the anger and resentment for the kinslayings of Doriath and Balar. They knew that they would never see one another again if they were to part now, for they were too weary to travel all the uncharted miles in unknown woods to remain as such as they were. It was this foresight granted to the child of Uial, though misted, always guided his actions,
"I am not ready to part company with you my friend, I shall remain here by the sea and learn the ways my father came to love most."
And thus the two remained together helping to rebuild the Kingdom of Erenion who was affectionately referred to as Gil-galad by his Sindar subjects, and by many of the Noldo too.
His thoughts are many and diverse, recalling the end of his beloved land, the grave of his father resting at the bottom of the sea, though he was buried on a hill, and the ashes of his mother scattered among the forest, that now lay beneath the waves. He recalls the Battle of the Valar who now left with many of the Edain, with rumors of a new land for them to call their own. Many of his folk were gone too, seeking the bliss of the Blessed Isle, away from memories of the Darker times. Yet many remained loyal to Cirdan and Celeborn most beloved of the princes and lords of Doriath. Even now they prepared to move eastward towards the rising moon. And they would leave him again, his people, though not utterly as the others had. They left now because the blood of the Kin-slaying at Doriath and Balar still ran hot among them, and many "high"-elves remained there, because of Erenion, the last high-king of the Noldor; though more alike to Finrod his father, who was friend to many Sindar people, and he was skilled, this king, in the culture of the Sindar, and in that he was beloved and respected by Cirdan and his people.
"Why do you look at the sun as she leaves, when the Moon arrives and greets you fairly?"
The voice was well known to Celebrin, and it brought a shy smile to his face in all his thoughts of sundering and kin-slaying. Yes those days are over... To the voice he turned his head and replied,
"Mae govannen, mellon nin, I have no reason, I am afraid, as to why I look at the fleeting sun rather than the oncoming moon, it is possible that I hope for the gray ships to return, and bring back the fair folk of Valinor."
The reply was aimed at a fair elf, whose beauty matched his comrade's, yet was not of the twilight, but rather of the dark sea in the nightime of the new world, fleeting yet returning still to beat upon the shores of sorrow. This youth bore joy in his countenance despite his previous sorrow, and his face shone as a lamp lit sea, dim yet brilliantly beautiful. Like his Noldor kin, his eyes bore the light of Aman, though he never saw it himself, and thus their dark earthen hue was turned into brilliant hazel, colored as the wheat fields in the autumn. His hair was dark and shimmered in the dusk, yet did not shine as brilliantly dark as his companion's, for the latter was born of Doriath, to a family well known for their reflection of the twilight.
Their eyes met, one hazel the other sea gray, and thy smiled at one another in voiceless jest, and continued their conversation for the ears of the sea. Celebrin sighed and said, "Alas Alphindil, you do bring joy to my heart again, you are never without sorrow."
"Alas that you call me such a name, tis not my own."
"Were it not for your attire, I would have chosen another name for you my friend."
Celebrin referred to the clothing his friend always wore, which was decorated in some way or another by swans, either embroidered or by another means. For indeed he dressed as one of Vanyimar, and his family had always held a special devotion to them as sailors. At the mention of his attire Alphindil touched a brooch he always wore even if he did not wear a cloak, for it was dear to him. It was in the figure of a swan in flight, made of a strange black material that shimmered darkly in the light of the sun, and was made all the more beautiful by the winding mithril design that enhanced its dark beauty and held a shimmering pearl, taken from the shores of Nevrast. He looked at it and laughed to himself.
"Such things we must all wear, lest we forget the travails of past years, for is that not why you wear your tear," he said touching the scar upon his friend's right cheek. At the caress of his friend Celebrin laughed silently, thinking of his friend's comparison of the scar he came to loathe and the treasure his friend cherished. He turned his head to the sea and felt the cool western breeze caress his face, filling his nose with its salty, ancient fragrance, at which point he said,
"One must laugh, else they cry and waste away. Tell me mellon, have you decided where you are to go?"
Alphindil gazed into the west and then gave out a sigh, "Why do you ask me such a question? Is it not apparent that the ships have already left?"
"I did not mean to the west my friend," Celebrin turned from the sea and walked towards the uncarved cliffs now lined with huts, "many of my folk wish to leave the shores of this land, and go where the trees grow tall and have not been changed by the malice of time and war. And for my part my heart yearns for the woods again, yet here by the shore lives my lord Cirdan, who's rule and manner I have become accustomed to. Which would you choose?"
"Cirdan is a mighty lord, yet if I know my friend well enough, you still bear some resentment towards the Noldor who now dwell with King Erenion, even though many have left to Valinor or with Celebrimor. Is that not why you wish to follow your kinsmen? And if indeed that is the way you feel, you are torn between your pledge to Cirdan, who took you in as an orphan, and your own people who move east as we speak."
Celebrin smiled at this and said, "You were always one for many words, yet it is not my resentment for your father-people why I wish to follow the Sindar. My family has always served the family of the King of Doriath, yet now with Doriath gone, I know not my place in the world."
"Must you have a place?"
This voice came from beside them and when they turned to see its origin they were surprised to see a tall figure, whose head was wreathed in a silver light and whose face was hale in it's glory.
"My lord...", Celebrin motioned to bend on one knee, yet was stopped by the figure, who grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Stand Elornion, you need not bow to me, it is not the fashion of our people to bend on one's knee unless he be a King of great renown, and he is not here."
"Forgive me for this, you took me by surprise. I...I did not intend for you..."
"And yet I did hear your speech Elornion Uial... it has been the concern of many of our people, to leave or to go, and to sunder all that we have built. Your family Elornion, has always chosen the gray of life, believe me when I tell you this, you have no obligation to me, or to Cirdan, merely to yourself; A life of servitude is not what your parent's wished for you."
And with that the elven lord left as silently as he had arrived, seeming only to be a shadow of a dream, and the two companions stood motionless at what had happened; for it was one thing to speak with an Elven lord in the midst of battle, but in times of peace such things gave way to propriety. And the two sat on the shore line until the weight of the chance encounter and a surprisingly casual one, had left them, and then as if it was hidden in a wrapped box their laughter burst out of them. And when that had subsided the night was already an hour old, laughter gave way to sighing, and then silence emersed them. And naught was heard between them until Celebrin spoke at long last after the moon had past the parapet of the sky.
"What would you chose mellon nin? The sea or the woods?"
"You know my choice, I am by all accounts an Elf of the sea, though born of both Noldo and Sindar, Erenion is my lord, it is the way of my people to gather in strength. We are not like you, able to seek a solitary life. Even though I fear another sundering between us, if you choose the woods I would not begrudge you that."
Celebrin listened to his friend, the only person who understood his sorrow, though would never understand his anger at his half-people. The elf spoke so stoically, so coldly that it seemed unbearable to hear it, and his face could not be searched for emotion only understanding that what he spoke was the truth. Alphindil's whole life had been by the sea, to ask him to leave it now would be as if he asked him to leave behind that which he held most dear. Their bond was undeniable, for them to part now, when all Eldar were in most need of rekindled friendship was to be torn from their own selves. The tragedies they had known, forced them together and from that union they formed an unlikely bond amidst all the anger and resentment for the kinslayings of Doriath and Balar. They knew that they would never see one another again if they were to part now, for they were too weary to travel all the uncharted miles in unknown woods to remain as such as they were. It was this foresight granted to the child of Uial, though misted, always guided his actions,
"I am not ready to part company with you my friend, I shall remain here by the sea and learn the ways my father came to love most."
And thus the two remained together helping to rebuild the Kingdom of Erenion who was affectionately referred to as Gil-galad by his Sindar subjects, and by many of the Noldo too.