Silmarusse

Gildor's POV

Valinor, time of the Two Trees and (obviously) before Feanor was banished from Tirion and went to Formenos

The first time I saw Silmarusse was one summer in the quarries, and I did not know her name. She rode in a cart as one of the workers delivered a load of tools. As a boy I had only seldom come into the stone-pits to deliver things or messages to Curufin from my father. But then I had come to know Angrod by chance, who was often here, and between Finrod and him, the quarries had become my place. The work there was dusty and rough compared to the delicate silver-working my father delighted in, but which I found dreary and fiddling after half a day in the workroom. I was not a learned mason, but picked up enough skills trailing various workers so that I could help wherever I was needed. Aside from my later involvement with Orome's beasts the quarries represented the only point of strong contest with my family. It was not fitting, my father would often say with a sigh, that the prince of the Vanyar should walk around with the masons, covered in a layer of sweat and dust. To which my mother usually replied that Feanor himself regularly came home 'looking like a sanded pig'.

Silmarusse, I found out later by delicate questioning, was the daughter of Aldariel of the Noldor. The family was not related to any of the royal houses and had only small holdings near the city. But she lived with her sister Elmire, in a house that subsisted mostly on its enormous garden and herds of chicken. Which was, on the whole, a very un-Noldor-like occupation, I gathered. Silmarusse, though, often worked in the quarries as well, breaking and chipping stone, sometimes going with the carts that delivered the finished blocks to their destinations, but by now driving one of the carts herself. Which again, was very Noldor-like, they said. I did not care much for any of that. She had silver hair, and the shine of that had not been quenched by the dust hanging over the pits that hot day. And she was, when I tried not to lose sight of her in the busy milling, very unlike the ladies I knew from Ingwe's court or even my father's. She worked in sleeveless vests and trousers, and the work in the quarries showed in her well-muscled arms. She was not shy, either. As she progressed from the upper levels of the quarry to where the finished blocks were stored further down she exchanged greetings and banter with the men and women she knew, objecting most manifestly to being given a slightly decrepit cart. The first sentence I heard her utter was "You think I want to be squashed flat half-way up, Curufin? Give me a decent cart or carry that lump up there yourself"

I bit my lip to keep from grinning when Curufin made a placating gesture and ordered the cart in question to be taken to the wood-workers for repair, adding a jibe I did not catch over the horn blowing for the noon-break.

But the first time I actually spoke to her was considerable time later, time which I spent partly wondering if she had suitors and partly telling myself not to be stupid to think of courting anyone yet. Let alone someone with as resolute a temper as hers.

I did not think earnestly of that either until one night father dropped a casual comment concerning 'the plans of his son' and the 'heir' of the line. It was only when I lay in bed that night that I put the heading 'marriage' to his vague allusions, and then thought that first of all, I was way too young to think of marrying anyone. And second, that the thought held, looked at directly, very little I thought enticing. Marriage would mean all sorts of things I could vaguely line under 'responsibility', things I currently considered 'duties'. The next question then was, what should I say if father became more direct in his as yet vague wonderings and allusions? What were the plans I myself had for my life?

I was spared finding an answer in a rather uncomfortable way over the next moons. A few days later I met Silmarusse again, really met her, that is. She drove her quarry-carts up the steep road on the front-side of our main house, the side facing the city. I was just leaving on my own way to the quarries. Normally, I suppose, we would have passed each other by with either a courteous greeting or a wave. But since it was early morning the street was empty, the windows as yet shuttered, and she stopped the cart, smiling "Good day to you, my lord. Calathaura, right?"

She used the Quenya version of my Vanyarin name, as did Finrod and his brothers. I nodded, slightly mystified at her stopping and uncertain if she was going to add one of her unforeseeable jokes. Angrod had warned me of those most amusedly when I had inquired as to her family. I had thought to have been delicate and unobtrusive, but obviously he had read between the lines.

"Good day to you as well" I said cautiously, edging out into the street so as not to shout across our whole front-garden "And you are right, that is my name. Silmarusse?"

Now I was sure she was surprised. After a moment she grinned "What evil have I done that my name should be known in the house of Ingwe?"

I was tempted to say something foolish like 'you made me think I should court you', but then shrugged equally foolishly "You work in the quarries. That is where I saw you…or your hair, first of all. It sticks out"

"Yes, among the Noldor it certainly does" she said dryly "Well, join me on my humble cart if that is good enough for the royal house"

I did not give any thought to the half-puzzled objections my father would enumerate later this night, and climbed to sit beside her on the narrow seat. She talked very like Finrod when we were alone, and I resolved to treat her as I would be with him or his brothers. That seemed the most sensible and most comfortable way, since to act as if she were a lady of Ingwe's court seemed silly.

"For the royal house certainly" I said easily as the cart rumbled on over the rough pavement "Though not for my royal ass"

Silmarusse glanced at me, and then laughed "So then, what are you doing in the quarries?"

"Work" I said, and grinned when she frowned "Well, that you don't skin pigs there was obvious to me. But stone-work is not your people's favourite, is it? That is what they have us Noldor for"

"I could say that onion-growing is not a very Noldorin pursuit either. That is what we have the attendants of Yavanna for"

"I see" she laughed. For a while, we sat in silence, jumping on the seat when the cart dipped into various holes in the pavement.

Our house was not far from the quarries, and they were in sight too soon for my taste. Before I could think of a proper thing to say, Silmarusse said "Well, your royal ass is welcome to ride back with me tonight. Only we'll have to go the longer way round, I will have a block on it for Errive's workshop. It would be unhealthy going down your street with that"

"Yes" I agreed, jumping from the seat as she slowed the cart by the masons' huts "It would weigh heavy on us, indeed"

She laughed again, waved, and directed the horse onward to the road snaking down into the quarry itself. Angrod grinned from one ear to the other when I opened the door "Had a ride this morning, did you?"

I took in his wicked grin and decided he was not referring to the cart "Shut up" I said.

We rode that cart together each morning and evening for that week. If there was a block to deliver, I jumped off the seat when the road around the city passed the nearest to my house. We tacitly agreed that it was not wise to be seen working that closely together so as not to raise false expectations, or worse, suspicions. The following two weeks the quarries were empty, and the days devoted to the Festival of Yavanna. The fields were tilled, and after that week of rest, the sowing would begin. An enormous stroke of luck had some cousins of my mother's to visit, from the Havens, so I was excused from any possible duty that might have fallen to me in that week. The only thing expected was to be present at the two great gatherings, and of course the family meetings. The time between was mine alone, and I used it for long rides or walks in the woods beyond the city. But I did not find the rest I had hoped for, nor the calm. My thoughts kept returning unmercifully to Silmarusse, and the longer a family meeting took or a gathering went on the more I missed her blunt speech and often more than alluding remarks. She had no respect of anything, it seemed, without appearing arrogant or condemning. We laughed so often, and at things I knew I could never have said without sending my family into fits. My closest friends were Finrod and his brothers, and, I discovered, they danced the dance of diplomacy so well that they never appeared so alien to my family as Silmarusse seemed to me. Finrod loved Amarie, father's sister – and she loved him, so their differences could not have been so striking. But Silmarusse gave me an idea how different the Noldor could be from the Vanyar. I did not know much of my mother's people, who kept mostly to themselves in their Havens, but neither did I know very much of the Noldor, except what Finrod and his brothers might occasionally let on. Neither of them, though, could afford the blunt cynicism of Silmarusse. The Vanyar, I discovered, might be in high esteem with the other kindreds and the Valar, but they were reclusive, often delimiting from the rest of the Quendi. It was not that my father advocated that or conveyed haughtiness, but there was a line there I had only once before become conscious of. I had discounted that as a boy's childhood experience, and as I grew older, had never felt it could bother me. As a people, the Vanyar were expected to be 'something better', whatever that meant. I am sure no one knew what exactly it was supposed to be. Most of it rested on descent – my father had, as his name said, gold-coloured hair. My mother's was dark, as it often was among the Elves of Alqualonde. Only mine had a strong reddish cast to it, a fact my former Noldorin fellow students had picked on to hint that there might have been someone else in my line who did not really belong there. But I was no longer a boy, and both my tongue and my dagger were quick enough to quell remarks in that direction. Through Silmarusse, I heard a lot of what was spoken in Noldorin houses, especially ones that were not directly related to royal families.

But I did not worry so much about what 'the Noldor' might think about 'the Vanyar', I worried what Silmarusse might think about Gildor. And as whom she saw me. I was not sure if she did not know my Vanyarin name, or if she refused to use it. At any rate, she kept calling me by the Noldorin version Calathaura.

It galled me that as Inglor's son people's opinion should matter to me as to who I made friends with and who not. And it galled me that it, at least in my eyes, seemed like cowardice to comply and not help Silmarusse deliver the blocks at the end of the day or let her drive me back to the house. I did not know what she thought of that either, only that it had been her notion that maybe we should leave our obvious association at shared rides to the quarry and partly back.

One day's walk in the free weeks, which I started well-provided with food and drink, carried me around the city and into the woods on the other side, where I had seldom got to. They were less open and a bit darker than the ones nearer to the Trees. More greener, with the golden light shining through the thick foliage. I resolved to come here more often, on horseback, for the longer walk to and back from them would otherwise always consume a whole day. Around afternoon, when I was turning slowly back into the direction of home, hoof-beats came behind me on the narrow path. I stepped aside to wait and let the rider pass, and then felt my heart skip. The rider was Silmarusse, and for the first time I saw her in different clothes than the rough wool of the quarry-workers. She wore riding-leathers in brown and black, which increased the strange shine of her silver hair, and a wide-flowing black cape with a design I could not see wholly. I knew the large, bulky mare that pulled her quarry-cart, but the horse she was riding now was a sleek, dark-grey mare with long flowing tail and mane. She wore neither saddle nor harness, and if that had not been enough her eyes would have told me that she was one of Orome's own horses. Silmarusse stared at me for a moment, and belatedly I realized that this was the first time she too saw me in something else than the sack-like quarry-garments. With plain brown breeches and wide shirt that bore only a very small embroidery of my father's crest I considered myself very modestly dressed (my mother called it 'drab'), but Silmarusse appeared as speechless as I had ever seen her.

I coughed and grinned sheepishly "Well met again, lady of the Noldor"

Then her familiar grin was back "Same to you, lord of the royal ass. Unlikely places bring unexpected joys, it is said, right?"

"I am not sure if coming from you that is a compliment or a dire threat" I said with smile, glancing at the horse. The mare surveyed me with what I could not say was either a dark or an amused look. My experience with the White horses was nil. I only knew they were said to understand our language, though if that counted for Quenya and Vanyarin alike I had never found out. I decided to take the safe course and inclined my head to the mare "I would greet you by name, lady, if I knew it"

Silmarusse did not laugh as I had more than half expected her to.

"Her name is Faire" she said "We became friends when I started going to Orome's stables a few years ago"

She dismounted, turning her back to me for a moment. The design on her cape was Orome's, a stylized horse-head seen from the front, underlain with two crossed arrows. And her name Silver Blade, which I had been unable to find a reason for was explained as well – she carried an elegant sword with a finely engraved crosspiece strapped to her back. And not once would I have doubted her ability to use the weapon, though I wondered why she carried it here.

"Nice sword" I said.

"Nice dagger" she grinned.

I returned a crooked smile, catching her implication "I can master it"

"That assures me" She gave a mock bow "So can I, my sword"

"I do not doubt it. But why Orome's stables?"

"Because that is the place you go to if you want to learn riding and hunting. At least us common people do"

"I would be there more often if my father would let me" I said wryly "So far, I can be happy he let Loranye teach me there"

She blinked "Is it that what it means to be a king's son's son, then? To form your life to your father's wish?"

I hesitated, puzzled at her sudden graveness "To a great part, it is. Should be, I suppose. I…doubt I will fulfil that duty immaculately"

We walked slowly along the path, in the direction I had been going.

"I suppose an unchaperoned meeting like this could get you into trouble, then?"

"I am of age" I said, half indignantly.

She laughed "As am I. I assume we are about the same age. But that is exactly why it might give trouble"

I shrugged "No one is going to hear it from me. I am my father's son, not his pawn"

"So" Silmarusse glanced at me "Say, why don't you carry a sword?"

I was not sure if she mocked me or asked in good faith "Why should I, here?" I asked "And it is my father's right to carry a sword"

She laughed "And his son's to die defenceless? Interesting – no wonder your monarchy is always in danger"

"In danger?" I asked, mystified.

"What if something happens to Ingwe?"

I blinked "What should happen to him? Here?"

"What if?"

I shrugged, grinning "Then my father succeeds him"

"And if something happens to your father? Will you succeed him?"

I stopped and looked at her walking on the other side of Faire. Both she and the mare halted.

"I have…never thought of that" I admitted "But what could happen? Nothing ever happens here"

"Indeed" Silmarusse laughed "Here, nothing happens. That is why I go to Orome, too. He knows lands that lie beyond this shore, lands where our people came from. Lands where, coming to think of it, your grandfather himself comes from. Why don't you come there, to the stables?"

I shrugged uneasily "I never had business there. As I said+ taught me to ride there, but father seldom speaks of Orome. His service to Yavanna, Manwe…Varda"

"Yes" Silmarusse said at length "You Vanyar" She glanced at the sky, squinting through a hole in the canopy "Well, I have to go back. My sister awaits me for the festivities tonight. Well met, I say again"

I nodded thoughtfully "Well met, yes. Lady horse" I added to the mare, wondering what the heck she knew or not. Silmarusse had mounted again and now grinned down at me "I would offer you a ride back to shorten the way, but I fear that would be too much – for their eyes, and your ass"

I laughed "I prefer to walk, thank you. And I suppose your friend here will advocate that decision as well. Two would be a heavy load"

Silmarusse smiled "Faire is more than she looks. Now, I would say come visit us, but I assume it is safer to extent a formal invitation?"

I smiled slightly "Either way. As you wish"

I followed that wish sooner than I would have thought. The following week, in fact. Orome's stables were a considerable walk from my family's house, and I used the opportunity for another day's freedom. But when I arrived there, the area appeared deserted. I slowly walked across the meadows and then skirted a wide, low fence. Nearer the stables themselves a loose herd of White horses grazed in that meadow, while the other horses were in a truly fenced meadow further away.

I kept looking at the horses as I edged closer to them, half expecting one of the giant hounds to come bounding at me. I kept my attention on the herd to keep from worrying and ignore the pounding of my heart. One of the horses seemed like the one I had seen with Silmarusse a few days ago.

„Faire?" I asked cautiously. The mare raised her head at my voice, and then slowly came to the low fence.

„That is you, right?" I asked when only that one horse reacted. She was dappled grey, her eyes, muzzle and a strip on her nose darker than the rest of her coat. I felt foolish visiting a horse when I could not meet her rider, when I did not even know if I had a right to be on the grounds of Orome's own stables. But then, I assumed if I were not wanted the horse would not come to me.

"Here" I mumbled, rummaging in my pocket "I…you eat apples?"

She did. I thought she would take the whole fruit, and drew my hand back too soon when I felt her silky lips on my palm. The remaining half of the apple dropped into the grass, but the mare lowered her head after a moment of chewing, seeking it. I watched her eat, thinking how strangely her grey head-markings were remindful of a skull. But there was nothing deathlike about her or her glittering eyes, except her name.

"You know, your name's as weird as mine" I said when she looked up and I stood empty-handed "And I ate that other apple myself, I fear. It was a long way here"

"And you made it to talk to a foreign horse?" a deep voice said behind me. I stifled a yelp, and turned, almost stumbling into the low fence. A tall, massive man stood there, with long, curling silver hair and a grey, equally curling beard.

"Oh-O-Orome" I remembered to bow "My lord. I…I did not mean to trespass but-"

"But she who you seek is not here so you visit her mare. No one trespasses here, boy" He came to stand beside me at the fence and rub Faire's head "In fact, you are most welcome. Why don't you come more often?"

I hesitated, taken aback. Only twice before, I had spoken to the Vala himself, and then only shortly and in company of my instructor in riding. I would not have thought he remembered me at all.

"My lord, I…my father…is not happy with…he does not think…the lands beyond…" I broke off, embarrassed at my stuttering. I could do better than that, and it was no use lying to a Vala.

"My father does not think much of the lands on the other shore. Where you hunt" I admitted.

"Ah yes" Orome rumbled "I know. But that is the Vanyarin way. A pity, for you have a way with hounds, I see"

"They have a way with me" I said uneasily "I don't do anything, they just…decide to stay with me when we are out here. And they are Finrod's, not mine"

"Ah, and he has them from me. But that is what I mean, that you don't do anything. And now Faire here, that is no name I gave"

I blinked, uncertain what he meant with both.

"She who you look for named her" the Vala added, and smiled when I blushed for just no reason "But tell me why your name should be as weird? There is always truth in names, even when we do not see it at once"

Once more, I hesitated uncomfortably "My mother named me Ulyalindё"

The Vala gave another rumble "Song of the Rain in Quenya, yes? Now, why should that be weird, Calathaura? There is no light without rain, nor the other way round"

I shrugged helplessly "There are no storms over the…mountain" I said after a moment.

"That is so" Orome looked at me, and I dropped my eyes, feeling that he, too, must see the unfittingness of that name.

"There need be no storm here in this land for there to be calm, yes. Not on this side of the sea. But in the lands beyond, where I hunt, that is so. There the storms are as magnificent as the starlit night is peaceful"

"Tell me of those lands" I said involuntarily, hastily "Father has never seen them, nor does he want to. And grandfather will not even speak of them"

"Come" Orome said "I will show you the stables you have not seen on your visits here"

He led me away from the meadow, and slowly across the main yard.

"The lands on the other side are dark and wild" he said as we walked "There is no light there save the stars, and often clouds hide them from view. The forests are thick and high, and many beasts live there. Some that don't live here"

We passed the stables I knew and went into another door. The strong smell of bird and dry droppings greeted us.

"Now these are the mews. Rife for cleaning again, I see. This is where the hawks come to sleep at night, if the weather drives them in. They usually take the low perches down here. And the owls are in here at the moment, to leave at night. See them up there?"

I squinted into the dimness as Orome pointed, and saw the huddled and puffed up shapes sitting on the high rafters. Near the top as well as in the back-wall there were large round openings to allow the birds free access and exit.

"Ever hunted with hawks or owls?"

"No, my lord"

"Hum, hm…" Orome strode through the mews, ducking the lowest perches "Well, we have time to change that. Now, over the sea you will not find birds this large. They are all half the size, and all seem to be of owl-kind yet. They must hunt in the dark always, you see. And in the deep forest, wing-span as this one there-" he pointed at a large hawk sailing in through one of the holes "-would only hinder the hunters there"

"There are no eagles here" I said, having truly expected the kingly birds to be with Orome as well. He laughed "No, of course not. They are all up the mountain. It is seldom one of them brings a message here"

I felt heat creep into my cheeks again, but hoped it was dim enough it would not be visible.

"What do they live off there, the birds?" I asked.

"The same as here. Mice, hares. Frogs. Now come, I show you the hounds"

I followed him across the yard again and into the third door. This led to a great hall filled with straw and intersected with open boxes. A number of hounds lounged there, some curled up in their nooks, others sleeping in heaps. Some were even more massive and wild-looking as those Finrod sometimes left in my keeping. A lower door stood open to the fields beyond. The hounds, too, came and went at their will it seemed.

"The likes of them, only greater, more ferocious, and wild, you have in the lands beyond" Orome said "It is wolf-land there, and not all of them go their own way anymore"

"My lord?" I forced myself to ask when he did not elaborate, surveying the hound's hall.

"Oh, the Dark One has changed them. It is them I go to hunt mainly, them and other monsters he has set loose"

"So they are different from the…other creatures there? Those you do not hunt?"

"Very much" Orome closed the door softly behind us "They hunt no longer, but only kill for the sake of it. It is his orders they follow"
I vaguely wondered why he was telling me things my own father had not seen fit to tell me. Maybe because Inglor knew nothing about them, maybe because he did not care about the lands beyond. I was aware it was not for me to question the Vala's motives, but I was close to asking him why only he returned when all others did not, when an interruption I had dreaded and hoped for occurred.

"Ah, now that is convenient, don't you think?" Orome rumbled into his beard.

Silmarusse had turned up, on foot and carrying a basket. The Vala strode forward to meet her, and I hung back.

"My lord, I have brought the herbs you asked for" Silmarusse said, appearing not in the least daunted by speaking to the Vala "May I ride out with Faire, if she agrees?"

Orome inspected the basket with an air of satisfaction "You need not ask me for permission, girl. Faire has chosen you and that's that. But I suggest you take one of the other horses with you for your company to ride"

He stepped aside and forcefully gestured me forward.

"Er-hello" I said stupidly, wishing the earth would swallow me.

Silmarusse blinked, but then laughed "Now if that isn't splendid. Did you come looking for me, or did you just get turned into my escort?"

"Er-yes" I said, and hurriedly added "Looking, I mean"

"Yes" Orome said meaningfully, smiling "I found him talking to your horse. You know she eats apples after all?"

"She does?" Silmarusse looked at him, puzzled, then she grinned as well "Indeed. Well, then, my escort who came looking for me, come and I will show you a tractable mount. The one Loranye always gives you is a mean beast"

I followed her, feeling out of my depth completely "Is she?"

Silmarusse opened the stall of a dark brown mare "Compared to this one, yes. You can ride her bareback like one of the White ones. She too likes apples" she added with a grin.

"I don't have any, anymore" I said.

"Look in that door, there should be a basket. And you can take a handful with you. Keeps her happy. I am going to fetch Faire"

"What is that about apples?" I forced myself to ask before she left.

"Faire never touched an apple before, as far as I am informed. She seems to like you" Silmarusse grinned, and returned a short time later with the grey mare trailing her.

"So you took our invitation" she said.

I nodded mutely, then reminded myself to speak "Yes. It was too good to waste, you see?"

She grinned meaningfully "I hope you say that when we come back here. I intended to ride to the coast"

I groaned softly. To the coast and back was a very long ride. Plenty of time to find all pitfalls there could be for us.

The ride did not extent into a veritable catastrophe for my pride. Instead, the hours with Silmarusse gave it a boost to the point that third time I met her was, for once, solely by my own design. Since she had so casually said just when she saw to the garden of her parent's house in the city I contrived to walk that street on the day in question, and indeed she was there. And she was alone. I felt my heart skip, but then nevertheless ambled up to the fence of artfully wrought iron. When she saw me, she grinned broadly and came over, ramming her spate into the ground and leaning on the handle.

"No quarry-work today?" she asked with a cat-grin "Won't your royal ass miss the cart-ride?"

I grinned back "I could reply something very different to this, but for politeness' sake I will only say that my royal eyes missed the sight of you"

I was aware that my father would have been positively scandalized at this exchange, and that Finrod would have been delighted. Silmarusse laughed "Liar"

"You challenge my honesty?" I demanded.

"No, your sanity"

"Well, I have enough honesty. But I cannot attest to the sanity" I plunged ahead "If I would not lie, I would have to say I am courting you"

She blinked, and for a moment, I inwardly kicked myself. What was I doing here? Determinedly proving I had not a scrap of sanity! What did I know of her, or her motives? She had more friends than my family servants, what made me think I could mean more to her than any other of them!

"Would you?" she asked. After a moment I realized she had spoken to me.

"Yes" I said softly, feeling my cheeks burning now.

"So then" she laughed suddenly "That is something I can say for sure has never happened to me" She bowed, and tugged at the plants at her feet, holding a flower in her hand when she came up. She stuck a grimy hand over the fence with a flourish "Be glad we are here now, because if we were in the quarry, I would have to give you a lump of rock to say I would be more than pleased to accept that courtship"

Now I blinked, and then slowly reached out to take the flower. It was an onion-bloom. I grinned "You could not have given me the other end of that, do you think? I could have cooked that"

"Not ripe yet, sorry" she laughed "We have last year's, though. I could bring one of those tonight, if you like"

"Tonight?" I asked blankly.

"Of course tonight. I have work here, my lord Calathaura. But the Great Oak is a nice place, don't you think? Especially at the Mingling of the Lights. You can see the Trees from there quite well"

It felt as if my brain had to forcefully engage itself again "Yes" I managed to say "It is a wonderful place…then"

Chapter Notes:

Silmarusse: (aQ) "silver blade"

Elmire: (Q) star-jewel

Loranye: a Vanyarin elf of Inglor's household

Calathaura: Linguists (and purists) turn away for a moment, please. For the purposes of this story I assume that both Inglor and Gildor are Vanyarin names, and that Gildor sounds the same in Vanyarin and Sindarin. Calathaura means 'mighty light', which I use as Quenya version of Gildor. I also took the freedom to make Inglor Ingwe's son (Ingwe's son was in fact Ingil (The Book of Lost Tales I) and Amarie Inglor's sister. Which is convenient to have golden hair on Gildor, to explain his epesse Inglorion, and to make his decisions in the planned but no yet finished chapters sufficiently scandalous.

Faire: (Q) phantom, ghost, death. It is nowhere said if the elf-horses were longer-lived than 'mortal' horses. But they are called "elf-horses", and for this story I assume first that they are 'more intelligent' in terms of elven or human definition than simple horses, and second, that some, like Faire, who have been born in Valinor and lived with Orome, were indeed as immortal as their riders.

I assume that swords were already worn at this time, though in fact the Silmarillion says this: "And when Melkor saw that these lies were smouldering, and that pride and anger were awake among the Noldor, he spoke to them concerning weapons; and in that time the Noldor began the smithying of swords and axes and spears. Shields also they made displaying the tokens of many houses and kindreds that vied with one another; and these only they they wore abroad, and of other weapons they did not speak, for each believed that he alone had received the warning" ("Of the Silmarils and the unrest of the Noldor").

! There is a great gap between this chapter and "Shadows of regret". I have not yet had time to beat the 5 chapters in between into readable form ! They will cover the Ceremony ensuing from the charge against Gildor and Silmarusse, the time of Feanor's rebellion and the leaving of Valinor, the crossing of the Helcaraxe, time in Nargothrond, and the battle where Silmarusse is killed.

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