Chapter One

In Which The Story Begins

The tragedy of this story is the fact that nearly everyone involved is dead or has passed on to the Blessed realm. I had the honor of meeting Voronwë when I was very young, but he was ancient already and just finished the Swan boat to carry his family to Valinor. He struck me as quiet and powerful, but clouded with sadness. He was as elf that had seen more sorrow then any living being should.

But the first definite date in this tale is appended to a letter written by the Marnier to Tuor. It was an invitation to the Fall Festival. What such an event would have been in Gondolin I can only imagine.

Dear Friend,

I assume you will be attending the Festival with His Majesty, and her Royal Highness Princess Idril. But I would ask that you don't forget an old friend and ignore me all evening. I have asked Castiel to come with me, and I ask that you dance with her an least once. The poor little thing is too shy for anyone else.

Ronwë

I dislike this shortening of the mariner's name, but it cannot be helped. His hand writing was very hard to decipher.

While this is the first mention of Castiel, it is not the beginning, but rather the midway point according to Castiel's own journal. Her account begins some months before Tuor and Voronwë found their way into the hidden city. Little mentions of her doings in the service of Idril, and here and there snippets of conversation with Maeglin.

It later becomes very clear that they knew each other extremely well. Castiel was a daughter of the house of the Heavenly Arch, and was a closecompanion of Idril even though she served as a maid.

An interesting point in the life of Castiel was the fact that she was mind blind. This is perhaps a slang term for a condition of mental inability. She, unlike her companions, could not reach others with her mind and vice versa. In such rare cases the parents are even unable to touch the baby's fea before birth, therefore when they are born things like gender are a surprise.

The only advantage to this is that she would be able to keep her own council. Not even mental torture could rest secrets from her. But in all cases it is still considered a handicap. Yet it would seem that one person could at least the first levels of her fea, this person was Maeglin. This is told in the following passage.

Dark, mysterious, brutal. I love Maeglin Dark Elf as no other. I would never confess my love to anyone.

But he knows.

By what means I can never know for no one else could read my heart. Only he…

She never out rightly says she cared for him until after Tuor had arrived. Indeed the real story began the day of Idril's wedding. I thought is best to record her own words. The impulsive, love filled phrases of a elleth.

When they wed today he stood by his uncle like a black omen. As they pledged love and fidelity in the sight of all Gondolin he stood blankly watching as he lost Idril forever. His hand rested on his sword hilt and he gripped the handle so tightly his knuckles were white and bloodless.

I saw his hate for Tuor and his love for Idril grapple. Now her happiness was linked and bound to the life of Tuor. His death would only herald her own.

At this point it was not known that the death of a human mate could cause the fading of an elven woman. However, this seems like a logical assumption.

Maeglin slipped away as quickly as he could, leaving the celebration that mocked his lost love. My heart bled for him. I followed him as he stalked through the empty streets like a lonely shadow.

For a few brief moments he looked like his evil father, stooped and morbid. But Maeglin's shoulders were bent with grief not evil.

I found him waking the coals of his forge and casting flames high with the bellows. He had cast away sword and cloak, working in his wedding finery diamonds glistening in the red fire light.

A glowing metal band was plucked from the coals and he furiously began to beat it. Sparks flew where his hammer fell and the force of his labor shook his raven hair free from the ceremonial braids.

With a resounding crack the band broke and fell to the ground with a dull metallic thud. He lifted his hammer and stared at it. Slowly one single tear slid down his cheek and he buried his face in his hands.

I don't know how I ever dared to go to him, but I did. He knew me as I came and I was roughly drawn to his heart as all his grief was given release. His grasp was feverish and frantic as his lips claimed mine, scorching me like fire.

The force of his passion consumed me and willingly I gave myself up to it. I knew that even as he made love to me that he thought only of her, but in that moment all was madness.

Madness indeed. In this unguarded moment Maeglin and Castiel bonded in marriage. This kind of marriage, by physical consummation only, is not unheard of and in times of great trouble this was accepted. But in times of peace it was regarded in a darker light. Interestingly enough, this was the same way that Eol and Aredhel, Maeglin's parents, wed.

"It was a mistake." he said, "Tell no one." A swirl of his cloak and he was gone. I curled up in bed and while the sheets still held his scent I cried.

I have to stop here for the night.

Dear Dínendal,

If you can find anymore letters similar to the ones you sent me, please, I need them. Itarildë is coming close to her delivery and I cannot leave her side. She would write but she says that the ink makes her ill. I hope Cirdan will return before the baby comes, he would be so sad to miss the birth of his first child.

H.B