In An Age Before

by Phantom Bard

Part 298 posted, in which Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý aid the Third Marshal Haleth in Rohan's defeat of the Easterling invaders. Brutal weather, disease, and failing morale play a part. Aldburg is no sooner freed of the eastern threat when tidings come of the Dunlending's invasion from the west. OCs galore as usual.

7. In An Age Before Chapter 7

In An Age Before - Part 7

Chapter Five

Rhovanion, East of the Hithaeglir - The Second Age of the Sun

Well 'nigh twenty years of the sun had passed ere Helluin left Khazad-dûm. By then the Dwarves held her in high esteem and she had learnt much from them. Yet eventually the longing for the open sky and the sounds of wind and water drew her forth from the deep halls of Durin's folk, and she took up again her wandering ways.

Now when she left, Helluin went not by the west door through which she'd entered, but rather from Azanulbizar Gate, the main gate of Hadhodrond. This lay on the eastern side of the Hithaeglir, above the Mirror Mere, Kheled-Zâram. Below it, the spring that gave rise to the river Celebrant arose from its deep source. At first Helluin just stood letting Anar's warmth wash o'er her as she listened in delight to the play of bright waters skipping down a stair-step falls from a mist-shrouded gorge 'twixt the arms of the mountains behind. The sun's light falling through that spray graced the narrow chasm with a rainbow that arced from wall to wall, as it were some ephemeral bridge of the Valar set there for spirits alone to tread. Yet soon she took to the road descending from the great gates, and so Helluin came into the eastern lands, into the forests of broadening Nanduhirion that would one day be called the Dimrill Dale.

The next day she had followed the land further downslope into the gore 'twixt the rivers Celebrant and Nimrodel, though that latter name was still long in coming. To Helluin, these rivers were simply the right and left forks of a tributary that ran down to Anduin the Great, of whose name the Dwarves had spoken. Yet though the later name had yet to be given, still many already lived 'nigh these streams, for the land was fair and the water clean. Now these were not the people of Lothlórien, for the Land of the Golden Flower would not be founded for well o'er another thousand years. These were those Moriquendi called Nandor, a branch of the Úmanyar. They were originally Teleri who had renounced the westward march to Aman and had ne'er entered Beleriand. They had been sundered from the Calaquendi and even the Sindar for o'er 4,000 years, and they had found their own place in Middle Earth.

Helluin had been near 50 years of age when Lenwë, a kinsman of King Olwë, had led a host who would become the Nandor south, away down Anduin, for they had despaired of crossing the Hithaeglir into Eriador. By then the Vanyar of Ingwë and the Noldor of Finwë, (with Helluin amongst them), had already followed the Vala Oromë o'er the Misty Mountains. The Teleri had stayed behind, desiring to live for a time on Anduin's banks.

In truth, some of the Nandor, many of them 'neath Denethor, son of Lenwë, had later journeyed into more western lands, whether by the pass 'twixt the Ered Nimrais and the Hithaeglir, or along the southern coast beyond the White Mountains, or o'er the Misty Mountains themselves. Indeed Denethor's folk had been known to Helluin, for they had become the Laiquendi, the Green Elves of Ossiriand. Still, to Helluin these were strange and distant kin, their language archaic to her ears, and no light of the Blessed Realm burned in their eyes. Of their kin to the west and the wars of the Silmarils, the Nandor had heard but rumors of distant unrest. They were wary of others by nature, though not to such a degree as the Avari further east, and whilst they were not evil, they were suspicious of strangers, for agents of Morgoth had walked these lands though the Nandor knew not their true origins. Of the ways of the wide lands about Anduin, none were more familiar. Plant and animal they knew close as kin, rock and tree were their intimates, and Helluin, though traveling cloaked in green much like the Laiquendi of Ossiriand, was known long ere she crossed Celebrant.

Many hidden eyes marked her passage down to the confluence of the two rivers. For her part, Helluin noted a watchfulness in the land as she moved further from Khazad-dûm and it reminded her somewhat of her march through Ossiriand. It seemed the very breeze held its breath and some uneasy peace lay upon the forest, yet peace it was, not threat. Helluin kept her senses sharp and strode forward as a traveler rather than a hunter or a spy; indeed she came singing a song of Valinor, likening the light of golden Laurelin to the sunlight streaming through the leaves of the mellyrn standing all 'round. Her voice rose clear like crystal, lofting her words to Arien as she drew the vessel of Anar, last remnant of Laurelin's light, through the heavens.

Now the Nandor heard clearly her voice and knew that none in Middle Earth save their Elven kin sang with voices so sweet and pure. So they assailed her not though she was a stranger dressed for war, and the longsword and dagger upon her belt they marked. Of her song they understood but few of the words, and yet they felt the spirit of praise and thanksgiving that flowed amidst the lines, for pitch is keyed to feeling, and once long ago the tongue of the Nandor had its roots in common with the Quenya that had been preserved in Aman. Therefore they felt her reverence for the world and its life. Even so, when she came at last to the meeting of the two rivers she was stopped. There a company of the Nandor of Celebrant drew up behind her and stayed any thought of retreat back from the point of the gore. So Helluin stood, with a plunge down to the frothy, tumbling waters at her back and well 'nigh twenty strange Elves facing her.

Though the establishment of Lothlórien was many centuries away, already those of that land cloaked themselves in grey and moved through the trees with stealth. Most bore straight bows of supple yew, and slender shafts tipped with steel in quivers at their backs. A few had knives as well, but these were plain and of inferior workmanship. Helluin waited to hear their hail, for etiquette demanded that having stopped her they challenge her or let her pass. After some time, when the company had settled itself and she had made no move, a tall ellon with long, pale hair stood forth and spoke. To Helluin's ears his language was beyond antique, yet still changed from the speech of Cuiviénen that she recalled only with some difficulty from two Ages of the world aforetime. Indeed the tongue of the Nandor was that which was known after as Silvan, and it had its roots in common with Quenya and even with Sindarin, though the latter less closely following millennia of divergence.

"Wherefore go'st thou, girt as for battle in this land of peace?"

"I wander in quest of my curiosity's satisfaction," Helluin explained, adjusting her speech for their ease of comprehension, "holding to no lord either allegiance or duty, and serving none save my own heart since the fall of the House of Fingolfin, son of Finwë."

A murmur went up from the Nandor, for the name of the Host of Finwë had been known to them of old. They were kin, but distant in time and place.

"Why doth thou bear sword and gear of war, Noldo," he asked, nodding to the sheathed sword Anguirel and the long dagger at her belt, "if no lord dost thou serve?"

"Amidst western lands war lay heavy and for long. Despite the Great Enemy's fall, still some few of his servants roam apace, or did, east of yon Hithaeglir." She glanced up to the snow-crowned peaks of Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol, which rose above Khazad-dûm. "These I thwart in memory of kin fallen, and for the protection of myself, as one alone is e'er more likely a target."

The Elf digested her words a moment and then asked, "dids't thou indeed cross yonder heights?" He gestured with one arm, back up Nanduhirion, with an expression of barely suppressed awe.

"Nay, 'neath them I came," Helluin answered, "as a guest of the House of Durin did I pass through Hadhodrond."

Here all the Nandor began to voice opinions ranging from shock to amazement to outright disbelief. None of the Nandor of Celebrant had passed through the gates of the Khazad-dûm. The two peoples dealt with each other mostly in mutual disinterest, or ignored each other's doings entirely. They had nothing in common and neither kindred could understand a word the other said. It had been so fore'er. The Nando wound up sneering at Helluin and advancing upon her though the remainder of his people still stood indecisive.

"False ring thy words, Noldo. Say sooth, pass yonder gate? Nay, not in any Age."

"Not thee or thine perhaps," Helluin answered calmly, "yet twenty years have I spent in those halls with honor. If thee doubt my words, then look upon works wrought for me in Khazad-dûm."

Here she spread her arms and her cloak fell open revealing the vambraces on her forearms and the armor above the bodice of her battle dress. The mail lay flush on her skin as it were a design applied rather than a garment worn, and the plates of the vambraces shifted in supple accommodation of every move of her arms. The pauldrons' segments encased her shoulders like dragon's scales. The Elf gazed at the mail and plate, marveling at the fineness of its craft. The design motifs adorning it were geometric and hard, not organic and flowing as Elvish decorations would have been. 'Twas certainly Dwarvish in feel, recalling the reliefs carved on the Azanulbizar gate itself.

"Neither blade nor shaft can pass this armor, whether from the bows of Quendi or Yrch," Helluin declared loud enough for all to hear.

"So say thou," the Nando said. "Still I say thou speak untrue and would put thy claim to test. Dost thou fear?" He asked, smirking at her and thinking himself crafty of word.

"Nay, thy shafts shan't bite though thou shoot to kill," said Helluin as she drew her coif o'er her head and dropped the cloak, "but a boon shalt thou owe me for any holes in my clothing."

Here the Nando looked at her in surprise and then shook his head, believing her fey. He turned and strode back to his company, then ordered a dozen archers to knock arrows and draw. 'Twas done in the blink of an eye and he commanded them to release. The shafts sped unerring to their target where they bounced away or broke on Helluin's chest right above her heart.

Seeing this he wondered, what miraculous steel doth the Naugrim contrive? She had stood unmoving, only hoping they wouldn't shoot her unprotected upper arms or legs. In shooting to kill, no harm came to her save some bruising from the impacts, and that less than a heavy hand blow might have caused. The Nandor looked on in amazement as she pulled off the coif and casually strode towards them 'til she stood but a body's length from the archers.

"What say thee now, Úmanya?" Helluin asked, letting flare the blue fire in her eyes that reflected the Undying Light of Valinor that his people had ne'er seen. "Doubt me still?"

The Nando gulped as he looked in her face and felt himself constrained immobile by her will. Not yet wrath, but a dwindling of patience he read there amidst her dark beauty. Truths he saw, and possibilities lived that he had ne'er imagined. There was no lie in her, but more than that, there was a power, majestic and wholly perplexing, yet inherent in all those who had dwelt in Aman. Helluin was the first of the Calaquendi that any of them had e'er met. With a blink she released him and he drew a deep breath.

'Naught but rumors had come east of the wars in Beleriand, yet from those wars she had come, with heart unbowed and body unbroken though 'twas said that entire lands had foundered. And what had those eyes seen in the Blessed Realm and through the Ages whilst he and his folk had dwelt quiet on these Hither Shores? What powers or prowess had she acquired there? Whence came the fire in her eyes? She showed no fear. He wondered whether she would slay them all, for their arrows wouldn't bite and not one amongst them bore a sword. He felt the need of counsel and that could come only from the lord of his people, who dwelt amongst the trees downstream 'nigh Celebrant.

"Nay, no longer have I doubts of thee," he said, "but more, I pray thee, that thou woulds't come before my lord, sharing in his halls the telling of thy tale." Here he sketched a slight bow of courtesy for good measure.

Helluin sighed, but understood that these of her distant kin stood in ignorance of the greater powers and deeds in the West. She could at the least update them and enjoy their hospitality whilst acquainting herself with their ways. Meeting their lord would be a good start. Helluin nodded in agreement.

"Grateful would this traveler be for thy lord's hospitality, and honored to speak of the deeds in the West." She offered him a tentative smile that he returned self-consciously o'er low mumbles from those standing behind. "I am Helluin of the Noldor, called also Maeg-mórmenel."

"Well met then, Helluin," the Nando said, "I am Haldir, Captain of the Northern Border Guard. We name our country Lindórinand¹. Come then," he beckoned with a gesture as he passed her and walked toward the point of the gore. Helluin moved to follow and the rest of his company joined in behind. It appeared that he intended to cross o'er Celebrant and march along its north bank. ¹(Lindórinand, "Vale of the Land of the Singers", is the old name of Lothlórien, while it was still purely a realm of the Nandor. Nandorin/Silvan. UT, Pt. 2; IV, HoGaC, Note 5, pgs. 252-3.)

Haldir removed from 'round his waist a coil of line that he tied to an arrow. He then knocked the arrow on his bowstring, took aim, and let fly, sending shaft and line 'cross the water to stick in a dead trunk on the far bank. The near end he handed to a second Elf who tied it 'round a nearby tree and made it fast. As Helluin watched, Haldir leapt up and came to stand light as a fleck of down upon the slender rope, and then just as lightly he quickly stepped 'cross it o'er the rushing waters. Upon the far bank he plucked free his arrow, and tied the free end to a loop of rope already in place 'round the trunk that had lain out of sight on the ground. Once all was secure, the company began to cross in the same manner.

Helluin crossed third to last and found the way easy though she had ne'er attempted such a thing before. The capacity was native in all Elves to master their balance. Being in control of their own bodies, fear wasn't a concern. Haldir nodded in approval as she hopped lightly to the ground. Now he was curious to see how agile she'd be in the trees. When the last of the company had crossed, he spoke the word 'Hótule¹!' sharply, and gave the line a tug, snapping it like a whip. The knot on the far bank came free and the line leapt through the air in a graceful arc, landing on the ground at his feet. ¹(Hótule! Come away! imperative. Quenya)

The company continued walking east through the forest alongside Celebrant, finally taking a path leading more inland during the late afternoon. From time to time one amongst them would raise his voice in song. O'erhead a gently swaying canopy of fluttering gold splintered the sun's light into dancing shadows that flickered 'neath the mellyrn. Bright or dim, all the forest seemed bathed in warm, golden hues to Helluin, and though but a dim recollection of the light of Laurelin falling upon Tuna, still it recalled to her heart the home she'd left in Aman. That quality of light brought on a longing for the Blessed Realm, and in that moment Helluin felt that all in Middle Earth was but a faded vision or shallow artifice of the beauty that had been lost. As the day began to fade and the light changed with the lowering sun, the effect became even more pronounced. Helluin fell into a somber mood, and in response she recalled a mournful song composed just after the poisoning of the Trees, as their light faded fore'er from Aman. Soon strains of Elemmire's Aldudenie, the "Lament of the Two Trees", took wing from her lips.

She sang softly and with incomplete attention, yet her voice was clear and the tune slow and sad. The Nandor could understand little of the Quenya in which the lyrics had been set, but the notes alone brought them sadness for a world diminished and a wondrous land they had ne'er seen. No Elf could have been unmoved, and the Úmanyar were no exception. Their hearts were turned in sympathy to the loss of that which they had ne'er known, feeling keenly the sense of having missed wonders that were gone fore'er. By virtue of the notes, the sorrow of all loss in a wider sense was rekindled anew as well. Even far from Beleriand, life in Middle Earth was not without its heartbreak. Soon many in the company became morose. In fact more than one shed tears as he walked, and after several miles it became too much. At last Haldir, as upset as any, brought them to a halt.

"Cease, O cease, I pray thee," he beseeched Helluin as he gave up walking and stood still, faltering and pausing to wipe his eyes. "No more of this can I stand! Heart's poverty thou bring'th upon us, Helluin; such a painful spell."

Helluin had ceased singing at once and stood with downcast expression and sincere regret etched upon her face. The Elves of Darkness had felt more depressed by her song then even she herself; a doubling of loss compounded by regret o'er old choices made. In a land of singers, a song was a powerful thing.

"Thy pardon I pray, Haldir," Helluin said softly, "the fading light 'neath these trees brought to my mind a song of lament for the loss of the Two Trees that once lit the Blessed Realm. I sang without thought of consequence. Long have I wandered with 'naught but my own company, and of the tongue of Valinor, the Naugrim understood 'naught."

"Bitter then and sad must our home seem to thee, and gladder am I to see it in ignorance," he said, looking with sympathy on the sorrow that marked her beauty.

"The fault lies not in thy lands, Haldir, but I bear a longing for things that live now only in memory. Time runs on, but memory endures, and to the past there can be no returning. Yet not for a hundred times my sadness would I wipe away my past beyond the seas. Sorrow I have, yes, but not regret."

Haldir understood and said, "perhaps thou shalt speak to me of Valinor ere our paths part, for 'tis said great sorrow follows only the loss of great joy."

Helluin nodded in response. Haldir turned away and began leading the company forward again as the light deepened 'neath the mellyrn from bright to burnished gold.

They walked for perhaps another hour ere coming to a clearing surrounding a tall hill ringed with young mellyrn, at the crown of which stood the snag of a long-dead trunk of massive girth. All 'round its base grew a lush turf of soft, thick green. The Nandor turned whilst walking and acknowledged the place with a subtle bowing of their heads, yet none broke their pace. Helluin wondered at the significance of it, for the Nandor obviously regarded the hill with some reverence. She inspected it closely as she passed. It seemed to her that about the hill a faint enchantment lay; an uncommon clarity, a shifting of light, or a shimmer to be seen only from the corner of the eye. Haldir noted her curiosity and broke from the lead, walking back to her as the company continued on.

"Tuna-i-Aldoen,¹ upon whose crown the eldest mallorn grew, aged long ere the coming of my people. Alas, it passed long ago," Haldir explained, "yet suckers anew arise as if in homage." ¹(Tuna-i-Aldoen, "Hill of the Great Tree", a long time before it became Cerin Amroth in the Third Age. Quenya)

"How long ago?" Helluin asked, experiencing a sense of prescience.

"'Twas stricken o'er 750 years past and failed utterly in but a year," he said, shaking his head sadly. "There followed 616 years of silent desolation. Just o'er 150 years past did it renew, unlooked for and undivined."

"Hmmmm," Helluin mused. She looked at the Hill of the Great Tree for several moments longer. The reported count of years seemed true. 151 years had passed since the fall of Morgoth. 767 years ago the Noldor had returned to Middle Earth bringing war. It couldn't have been coincidence. She made no comment, but thanked Haldir with a nod and a small smile. Then they moved to follow the company, already marching out of sight up the path, though now in a more southerly direction.

As evening fell, the company came to the chief settlement of Lindórinand. It lay just north of the river, encompassing a large hill amongst tall mellyrn wherein many of the platforms that the Nandor called Aldar opélille¹, sat amongst the branches of the trees. Some were but a few body heights above the ground, whilst the highest were barely to be seen, their undersides hidden amidst the crowns and obscured by branches and leaves. They ranged in size from simple platforms like hunters' blinds, to actual palaces in the boughs. From o'erhead the voices of many Elves floated down to the company, in conversation, in laughter, and occasionally in song. Here and there a lamp glowed 'twixt the leaves, and as Helluin watched, yet more shone out as they were lit in the gloaming. ¹(Aldar opélille, "Little Tree Houses", = alda (tree) + -r(pl) + opél(e) (walled house) + -i(pl) + -lle(diminutive) Quenya, and is as close as I can come to a Quenya equivalent for the Sindarin word telain, sing., talan. The singular form is alda opélelle in Quenya. Flet is 3rd Age Westron).

The city of the Nandor had neither rampart nor dike, but with a warrior's eye Helluin noted that the area was under constant surveillance from many small aldar opélille. There archers waited, silent and vigilant, as a last defense against intruders. Indeed for some time, she had marked the presence of increasing numbers of watchers in the woods. The Nandor had chosen to make their realm a porous killing ground, in which unseen resistance would intensify with increasing proximity to their settlement. Being without physical barriers, the area appeared but lightly defended, and yet for a people who fought with stealth, it allowed fluidity and adaptability in meeting invaders. Helluin had seen such tactics before in Ossiriand, amongst the Laiquendi. It seemed a common solution for the Úmanyar and a logical outgrowth of those peoples' love of open spaces and freedom to wander amidst the forests they so loved. Perhaps it had been sufficient defense against their enemies here in the east, but against a host in such numbers as Morgoth had unleashed, the Nandor would have been swiftly o'errun. It told her that warfare had been much less intense here; they'd probably seen little more than raiding parties and skirmishes.

"I pray thee follow now, that we might come before my lord," Haldir said to Helluin as they stood 'neath a large mallorn atop the central hill. "Lenwin, son of Lenwer, son of Lenwë is king amongst the trees."

After a nod from her he started up a rope ladder that had been lowered from a large talan several fathoms above their heads.

Helluin climbed up behind him easily and soon stood beside him on the talan. This platform was quite large and bridged two trunks that stood a half-dozen yards apart. Upon it was a roofed enclosure with a wide opening in its wall and windows on its sides. The enclosure housed a guard station where Haldir quickly spoke to another Elf. That done, he resumed their way, leading Helluin up another ladder.

This time the climb was longer and soon they were far above the floor of the forest. At perhaps 100 feet up they reached a second talan, set amidst the branching of the trunk two-thirds of the way to the mallorn's crown. Here many thick limbs pierced the floor, rising at varying angles and in all directions. Helluin could see many smaller aldar opélille amongst the outer branches, reached, she assumed, simply by walking the limbs. Also radiating from the talan were many taut ropes leading away to other trees nearby, the Nandor's sidewalks, such as they were.

"The Hall of King Lenwin lies in yonder mallorn," Haldir declared, pointing to a trunk about ten fathoms distant, "and not a thread leads hence from the ground. Here only lies the approach."

Haldir gestured to a slender rope held taut 'twixt the talan on which they stood and one encircling the trunk of a yet greater tree. He started 'cross, walking at ease as he had whilst crossing Celebrant. Helluin followed shortly, pacing 'cross behind him, not the least bit daunted by the drop of sixteen fathoms and four 'neath her feet. Height mattered not at all. The rope was secure and no wind blew. For people of Elven kind there was little danger in the crossing. At the far end of the rope, Haldir stepped off and waited for Helluin to make the talan. He noted that her eyes roved constantly, up, down, and in all directions as she paced that slender pathway amidst the branches. He marked her curiosity and delight in discovering a place filled with new sights and sounds. Yet again, he found himself impressed with this stranger.

Upon the alda opélelle that they had reached stood a high-walled hall of wood, bedecked with glowing lamps that illuminated the carvings and paintings upon it. Elves stood outside and at the doors, some speaking amongst themselves, others singing softly and plucking notes upon harps of many strings. Several nodded greetings to Haldir and looked with curiosity upon Helluin. She marked that none bore arms. At the door a tall, dark-haired ellon greeted Haldir by name, and Haldir returned his greeting and introduced Helluin.

"Hail, Arnel. Helluin of the Noldor is she, called also Maeg-mórmenel, an explorer of many lands and mortal foe to the Dark Enemy of whom some have told. Audience we seek before King Lenwin."

"Audience our lord grants, Haldir. Indeed he know'th of Helluin's coming. Proceed thou hence in peace." The door warden pulled open the tall doors and then stood aside for them to pass.

Haldir proceeded Helluin into the hall and she walked a step behind him on his right. All 'round them the hall was warmly lit by many bright lamps glazed with clear or cadmium glass. The interior walls and ceiling had been whitewashed so that the room was filled with a brilliant golden light. Many stood in attendance in the large open space, whilst yet more Elves sat along the walls on benches. Helluin noted a buzz of conversation, conducted discretely in hushed tones. Towards the rear, nearest the doors, several musicians softly sang and scribes wrote upon parchments with pens of gold. At the far end of the hall stood a low dais. Upon it were set a matched pair of high-backed chairs, their pale wood intricately carved with floral motifs and washed in gold. Gathered 'round upon the dais were the counselors of the king's court, seated upon chairs and stools of sundry styles and shapes.

Upon the dais sat King Lenwin and his queen, the Lady Calenwen. Both were tall and slender, dark of hair and pale of skin, their brown eyes streaked with gold much like the autumn leaves of the mellyrn they so loved. Both appeared to be in the prime of life, though such is difficult to judge amongst the Firstborn. Only their eyes truly showed their age. Such wisdom as life in Middle Earth conferred, gained through long years Helluin marked, yet they were not so beset with care as to be borne down by it. She guessed them to be little more than a thousand years old. They looked upon their subject and his guest with smiles of welcome, standing in greeting as was the custom amongst Elven kind.

"Thanks we give for thy safe return, Haldir, and for the peace of yonder border north," King Lenwin declared before turning his attention to their guest. "Welcome, Helluin of the Noldor. Long art thy people sundered from ours, nor have any of the Host of Finwë come amongst us since ere our realm was founded. 'Naught but rumor have we heard concerning the West and the Undying Lands. Pray gift us thy tale. We would harken to thy words. What tidings of the Hosts of Ingwë and of Finwë, of Olwë, and most, of Elwë? What deeds befell, wondrous and of great renown?"

Helluin briefly bowed her head in assent before the dais and then spoke, tempering her speech in manner most like their own. In the hours of the night she sketched the history of two long Ages in the west of Arda.

"Sooth say thee, O King, long sundered our peoples art. In Ages past, o'er yonder Hithaeglir came my people, and they behind the Host of Ingwë. Thence to Beleriand beyond the land of Eriador, 'cross yet further mountains came we thither o'er many years, and at last from Beleriand took our way to Aman the Blessed. Thither did we dwell in peace, in lands undying 'neath the Holy Light of Yavanna's Trees, rejoicing in the presence of the Blessed Ones and learning much of wisdom and of craft. Thither did an Age pass away, indeed, 3,620 years of the sun.

In bliss woulds't we tarry still were it not for the jewels of Curufinwë, eldest son of King Finwë, who was known after in Mortal Lands as Fëanor. Alas, the Silmarils he wrought, capturing in their hearts the very Light of the Two Trees. The Dark Enemy Melkor, Morgoth he was named anew, coveted them and contrived to take them, aided in his knavery by the monster Ungoliant, an ancient evil that doth wear a spider's hame. With black vapors did she darken Valinor, and 'neath that darkness came Melkor. He smote the Trees, poisoning the Lights of Yavanna, and bringing down the night upon Aman, yea even upon Valmar and the Ring of Doom! Ungoliant devoured 'aught of their Light that remained after.

In flight they took their way north, and coming to Formenos where dwelt King Finwë, with Fëanor and his seven sons, did a great mischief. There Melkor broke the treasury and had the Silmarils, and in cold blood slew King Finwë."

At these words the king and queen bowed their heads to honor the fallen. But Helluin knew that what was to come might yet turn their hearts against her and all her people. Still she spoke, intent on telling the truth.

"To Middle Earth they fled with the Silmarils. Morgoth came even to his fortress of Angband, and thither raised anew his host. Ungoliant encamped in the wastes of Nan Dungortheb 'neath the Ered Gorgoroth 'nigh Dorthonian, and thither from her body she spawned great evil.

Now Fëanor, inflamed by the murder of his father and the theft of his gems, persuaded the better part of the Noldor to accompany him and his sons to Middle Earth seeking vengeance, forsaking both the Undying Lands and the Blessing of the Valar, for he was wroth and fey with grief. Yet in truth 'twas obsession to repossess the Silmarils that moved him most of all. Thither he and his sons swore, and many of his folk also, taking Manwë and even Ilúvatar himself as witness to their oath. For all time hence would they pursue to the death those of whatsoe'er kindred, Vala, Maia, Elf, Man, or Orch who held or claimed a Silmaril. Mark me, O King, the son of Finwë spoke no less than rebellion against the Valar, for they sanctioned him not and laid a great doom upon his quest, and his leave-taking was as an exile. Now though not even the greater part of the Noldor held to his obsession with the Silmarils, nor swore his oath, still many departed Aman to avenge King Finwë, or to explore Middle Earth, or to raise realms in their own names. And so, many marched hence 'neath the banner of Fingolfin son of Finwë. Even thus, the Host of Fëanor marched e'er first and most eager.

Not long did the flaming hearts of the Noldor restrict their hatred to Morgoth, for too soon did ends came to justify the means. Coming first to the Havens of Alqualondë, Fëanor took council with King Olwë for the favor of the Teleri and their seacraft. Yet the king was unmoved by Fëanor's quest and refused to sail against the judgment of the Valar, and for the Silmarils he cared little. Then Fëanor with his host stormed the havens and did violence against their kin, and they took the ships and sailed them north."

Lenwin and Calenwen look upon Helluin in horror, for the Nandor had been, ere their sundering, of the Host of the Teleri and still held Olwë to be high king o'er all their people. Dark grew the king's countenance, but the queen's eyes bespoke her sorrow. The hall was silent now for all ears harkened to Helluin's tale.

"At Alqualondë died a very many, and good friends had I amongst them. Many, many decades I spent with the Teleri, learning their skills and seacraft," Helluin reported sadly, "and though I slew none, yet none did I save, for I came too late upon the battle to draw sword. Even then the oath foreshadowed the sundering of hearts to come, for the Host of Fëanor rode the Sundering Sea in stolen ships, leaving behind the House of Fingolfin to a long march upon the coast. I can lay claim to neither guilt nor innocence. Ne'er after did I cleave to the House of Fëanor, but served only the House of Fingolfin."

She bowed her head to the king and queen, though she suspected that she had been closer to many of the Teleri then either of them, save by descent through blood. 'Round the dais the counselors muttered and whispered amongst themselves ere Helluin continued her rede.

"Know thou then, O King, that their sworn oath drove the hearts and o'ermastered the minds of the Host of Fëanor upon that day and upon many days to come, and that no lasting good and much evil came of it. As a madness did it afflict them. Betrayal and kinslaying followed the Noldor e'er after, for by that oath we were cursed to heartbreak and doomed to fail."

"Thy words speak of doom sure," King Lenwin said gravely, "and that doom walked down the centuries to the ruin of all, I wager. Surely evil dogged evil once that road was trod. Wroth am I for the slaying of my kin, yet perchance no vengeance that I might will can outstrip that brought down by those upon themselves. Surely thy tale unfolds to yet greater evil and yet deeper heartbreak? Say on, I pray thee."

Helluin nodded and continued, for all was as the king had said. Six hundred years of defeat and woe had followed the oath, and the curse had harried all to ruin. She spoke of the wars of Beleriand and the fall of lords good and evil. She told of the destruction of every kingdom of the Noldor in Middle Earth, and of heroism and triumph of spirit in despite of the loss. Long she continued, relating the fall of Nargothrond, of Doriath, of Gondolin, and of the Falas. Noldor and Sindar and Men, all divided, all brought to ruin's edge, and all trapped in the struggle against the Great Enemy. To the fortunes of their Teleran kin the Nandor paid particular attention. Elwë's establishment of Doriath with Melian at his side was greeted with amazement, his eventual death at the hands of the Naugrim with wailing and curses, for he had been the first high king of all the Teleri. The Laiquendi were of particular interest too, but of them Helluin could relate little.

Low burned the lamps and the night grew old, and for the most part silence ruled the hall. Not in anyone's memory had such a wealth of tidings been heard. No questions were voiced, and but few comments, and those only by King Lenwin and Queen Calenwen. Many gasped in shock and then stifled their outbursts. Many wept. And in the telling of the tale, those whose hearts had at first been turned against the Noldor in wrath were soon moved to sorrow and pity.

"Of the rising of pale Isil and bright Anar we knew," King Lenwin said in wonder, "but that they be battle-lights we knew not. Doomed were ye, yet not forsaken. Great in mercy the Valar art. Many fell shadow-shapes fled yonder lights, and afterwards their menace lay much reduced. We gave thanks and give it still, and praise also. In this thy doom gifted us, Noldo."

"The rise of the star also we marked, yet knew not its import," Queen Calenwen commented of Gil-Estel. "No tale of bravery nor of love so deep and true have e'er we heard such as lived in Beren son of Barahir and Lúthien Tinúviel. Majestic I deem it, to entwine thus the doom of generations. For sooth, much beauty stands 'midst sorrow, and fated to fall, yet ne'er greater deeds have we heard spoken in this hall."

"Yet ere the tale finished all were lost," Helluin continued, "even unto the land of Beleriand itself, for 'twas whelmed 'neath the sea and all the north foundered. The coming of the Valar in wrath broke the very bones of Arda asunder. At the last was Morgoth o'erthrown and made prisoner. The Great Ones did battle in mortal lands and were victorious, and still, even from their hands were the Silmarils lost. All has passed away, the times faded but to memories of bittersweet triumphs and woe. 'Cross the sea have most returned, and so forsaken the lands of their heartbreak and fruitless quest."

"And what of thee, Helluin of the Host of Finwë?" Asked Queen Calenwen.

For a moment Helluin stood silent before the dais, shaking off the mood that her narrative had birthed. She'd found that melancholy clung to her at the telling of the tale and at the recollection of so many memories.

"Long ago 'neath Varda's stars did I journey Middle Earth as the Host of Finwë followed Oromë's horn e'er west, heeding the Summons of the Valar. Many lands I traversed and much wonder did I feel, and yet more wondrous discoveries imagined e'er tempted my heart with the desire of exploration. The yearning for the Light of the West and the call of the sea grew balanced with the call of Middle Earth. I found that whilst hither I wished to be thither, and once thither I longed again to travel hither. Three thousands and sixty years and more did I dwell in the Blessed Realm, but when the Trees were felled and others spoke of return, I joined on that road. No oaths did I swear nor riches did I seek, save only the enrichment of my own knowledge. Beyond this purpose lay only want of vengeance upon the Great Enemy."

"And so thence by thine own design, thou art houseless, a wanderer," King Lenwin said sadly, "bereft of kith and kin and home, of lord and land."

"Sooth say thee, O King, a lone wanderer, unconstrained by oath and curse, and finally freed of my people's doom," replied Helluin. "'Tis as I'd wished at last."

Much as the Nandor reveled in their freedom 'neath the sky and the boughs, the thought of solitary living was anathema to them. Amongst themselves they were social and gregarious by nature. Helluin's desire to wander the lands alone was wholly alien and some even deemed it a dark trait, an aberration perhaps, the outcome of having lived so long 'neath the Doom of the Valar and at war with the Dark Lord. That she had spent thousands of years traveling alone in the Blessed Realm would have seemed madness to them.

"Whither shalt thou go?" King Lenwin asked after a few moments pause. "Hast thou any destination upon thy road?"

"I woulds't by thy leave explore this forest apace," Helluin finally said, "for the noble mallorn was once known to me upon Tol Eressëa. Indeed 'tis a great mystery to find such hither, and I would enjoy again seeing their growth."

"Thou woulds't wander our lands, Noldo?" Queen Calenwen asked. "Dost thou find them fair as do we?"

"Indeed so, my Lady," Helluin said, "for Vasa's light through yonder leaves in afternoon calls forth to my mind images of golden Laurelin that is fore'er lost. By night Isil's beams shine silver upon the boughs, and after gentle rains would recall Telperion's argent dew. Hither in thy land art memories quickened, and 'neath Varda's stars, almost the endless twilight too might be revisited. The balm of nostalgia and memory…soothing comfort for a while. Thence after a time I shalt pass north and east."

"Not for 'naught do my people keep watch upon hither wood," King Lenwin declared, "for by night may evil come'th. Down Nanduhirion from Hithaeglir to waylay and abduct at times come Yrch. Wild Men roam the borders doing evil ere they art repelled. None alone find safety in the forest, Helluin. Thou woulds't find danger oft as not, and as surely as wonder."

"Sooth say thee, O King? Agents of the Enemy yet trouble thy lands? In despite of his fall they persist apace? Know this then, O King. I shalt gladly destroy all such whom I encounter in thy lands, or any other upon Middle Earth." For a moment the thought of Morgoth's minions still bringing evil to the world kindled her wrath and the blue fire was lit in her eyes. The Nandor drew back from her, for they could sense the darkness within. "I pray thee grant me thy leave, King Lenwin, and in payment my sword shalt drink the blood of thine enemies so long as I walk thy lands."

The king spoke to Helluin, though still unsettled by her display. Like most of his people he was too poorly traveled to have e'er aforetime encountered any of the Noldor, and even amongst the Noldor, Helluin's battle rage was renowned. None of the Nandor had walked in Beleriand, nor witnessed the wrath of the Calaquendi at war.

"Leave I grant thee to walk these lands, Helluin. And yet more, I name thee a Hunter. Thou art free to pursue any and all of evil kind to the death in the name of the Crown. In this land thou shalt find succor and rest so long as thou doth tarry 'neath the mellyrn. May the Valar bless thee and thy travels."

Then turning to the counselors and scribes, the king worded his decree that it be made published knowledge and the law of the land. His command was written and shortly messengers were dispatched to the corners of the realm. Ere the second morning after broke, all the guards and hunters in the forests had heard the king's words. Even those sentries in the most distant telain had been informed that a dark wanderer had taken service with their lord. 'Twas the right action at the right time, though none could know it on that night. Rather, those in the hall proceeded to feasting and song, and the king and queen encouraged their guest to take repast and rest from her journey, and many were the words spoken that night of the outer world and the lands beyond the sea. Long indeed did Helluin speak with King Lenwin and Queen Calenwen, and Haldir of the north march.

Helluin remained in the precincts of the city for five days, just long enough to carve a bow and fletch a quiver of arrows. She noted the interest the Nandor paid her labors and instructed those who came 'nigh. The weapon she created was akin to those of the Maiar of Oromë the Hunter, save somewhat smaller to fit her stature, and so was in form like those strung in the Blessed Realm. Such weapons had accompanied the Noldor to war in the Hither Lands.

The bow itself was heavier and longer than those of the Nandor. More importantly, 'twas a recurved rather than a simple bow. The arrows were heavier as well and Helluin tipped them with sharp-bladed points much like small spearheads, rather than simple sharpened tips sheathed in iron, for these would be used to hunt armored prey. Long years hence, this design would become the basis for the chief weapon of the Galadhrim of Lothlórien.

To Be Continued