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.

15. In An Age Before Chapter 15

In An Age Before - Part 15

Chapter Thirteen

Armenelos, Númenor - The Second Age of the Sun

The situation was appalling, Helluin thought, as she stood amidst the court of Tar-Ancalimë in the Citadel of Elros. Things had gone far downhill since the days of Tar-Elendil and Tar-Meneldur that she recalled. She had found her great-granddaughter cold, spiteful, quick to anger, preoccupied with petty intrigues and the concerns of her pride. Worse, she had found Tar-Ancalimë to be her spitting image. Seeing the queen was unsettling; 'twas as if Helluin were looking into a mirror that revealed a darkened image of herself, and that was saying much.

'Twas now 3 Narbeleth, (December 3rd), S.A. 1125. Ancalimë was 252 years of age and had sat upon the throne of Númenor for 50 years. So far she had grudgingly produced an heir, but had no interest in her marriage and indeed despised her mate, Hallacar. She was supremely self-possessed and had always been so, Helluin was informed, for she had been raised at first by her mother, Erendis, a woman embittered by the long years of her husband Aldarion's absences during his many voyages to the Mortal Shores. Erendis had felt herself in contest with, and finally bested by, the sea. Her husband's love had been given to ships first and his wife second. Erendis had come to resent the treatment she received, and that bitterness towards males and the sea she had passed on to her daughter, Ancalimë. Now the queen regarded males with coldness as had her mother, distrusting them and caring little for their ventures. Their preoccupation with ships she judged boyish, their thoughts for war she abhorred. In her policies, no consequence was given to her father's alliance with the Elven King in Lindon, and indeed she scarcely considered the state of Middle Earth at all. More concerned was she with dominating those about her and ensuring that none gainsaid her will even in the smallest thing.

Helluin had found life at court stifling. Tar-Ancalimë was severe, her maidservants, (for she employed no male servants), unhappy, and the subjects of her house given to gossip. The queen stood fast upon protocol and propriety, but only when it served her. At other times she would retire upon a whim. Only amongst the Guildsmen and in the mariners' taverns did Helluin truly feel at ease, and even amongst them she felt a pervasive dulling of enthusiasm and faltering of humor that surely descended from the country's ruler.

When she'd first arrived and been introduced at court, Tar-Ancalimë had greeted Helluin coolly, almost as a curio or a relic, and had barely listened to what she said. Her own prior contacts with Elves had been minimal, whilst her mother had dismissed them as light-hearted and e'er immature; happy to pass the Ages with songs and revels and the tending of birds and flowers. They were, by nature of their immortality, immune to the necessity of standing strong against a world made by Men lest they be crushed by it in a few years.

Ancalimë's grandmother, Queen Almarian, had said little to her regarding the Elves, or about Helluin, her own mother, save that she had gone 'cross the sea upon the death of Almarian's father, Vëantur. At that point, Ancalimë had lost interest completely. Vëantur was the archetype against which her mother, Erendis, had warned her…a man enamored of the sea, the villain who had taken Aldarion on his first voyage to Middle Earth, the voyage that had left him corrupted e'er after. The subject became closed. Ancalimë greeted Helluin as a guest only, and only because she was female, arranged housing in the Citadel for her during her visit which, the Queen assumed, "…would surely not be of long duration, for little of light-hearted revels were there to be found at her court."

"I am sure that is so, O Queen," Helluin had replied, "and indeed I come from Mordor having missed the celebrations of Sauron Gorthaur for the cornerstone laying of his Black Tower. I seem to be timing poorly my search for follies."

The Queen had regarded Helluin with narrowed eyes, not sure if she were being mocked or simply treated to the vacuous banter of an Elf. She couldn't help but feel a visceral resentment towards this Noldo, who at o'er 5,500 years of age looked no older than she herself, and whose beauty would endure long after her own had faded. Then she had waved her hand, dismissing Helluin and moving on to the next tedious bit of courtly trivia. For her part, Helluin had been seething, but slaying one of close kinship, and she a queen in her own hall, was not an option.

With the Queen's secretary did Helluin make a standing request for audience, but that meeting was long in coming, for Ancalimë thought little of importance to her could come from the mouth of an Elf. Indeed she took some small pleasure in postponing again and again the date, thinking t'would vex the Noldo as indeed such treatment would vex herself. She didn't understand that Helluin could out wait her, watching the years of her life pass by, knowing indeed that she had married without love and against her will, only to satisfy the necessities of her royal position. With the Elven sight of a Calaquende, Helluin had seen deeply into Tar-Ancalimë's heart and was saddened by the coldness and loneliness that she had discovered there.

The queen would have been furious had she known that Helluin had come to pity her. Indeed she would have been enraged to discover that Helluin had ceased considering her important and had simply bypassed her. To the queen's son and Heir, the future king, Helluin had gone instead. And to the future king she spoke as oft as was possible, and this was oft indeed, for Ancalimë had held but little interest in doting upon a boy, and even less upon a boy who had become a Man.

When she had arrived in late S.A. 1125, Anárion, the Queen's Heir and only child, was 122 years in age. He was a quiet Man, given mostly to learning, and dissuaded by his mother since childhood from seeking after adventure or going to sea. Helluin first met him in early Narwain, (January), of S.A. 1126 as she sat in the library, reading the scrolls that her beloved Vëantur had dictated long aforetime, enumerating their discoveries together in the Hither Lands. A tall Man of royal blood came 'nigh, and after looking at her with curiosity, finally approached. Helluin had risen and bowed as befitted her station at court and he had returned her bow with courtesy. Helluin sensed a nobility in him whose like had been deeply submerged 'neath pride and bitterness in his mother, and so her heart took hope that his rule would be unlike hers.

"Greetings, O Prince," Helluin had said, "art thou not Anárion, Heir to Her Majesty the Queen?"

"Indeed so," Anárion had said self-consciously, "yet I am more comfortable hearing my name rather than my title. Others have and shalt hold that title, but only one a name, and thereafter such discourse as might pass 'twixt two shalt be one more of friendship than of business."

Helluin had smiled at the truth of his words. "Call thou Anárion then?" She had asked.

"Indeed such would be my preference," he had said, "and surely thou art Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Noldor, for none look so like unto the Queen and art yet so different."

Helluin had nodded and smiled. "Call me Helluin, if thou please," she had said, "for no title do I hold, either here or amongst my people."

Anárion had returned her smile, if a bit tentatively. He had read of her in many scrolls.

"Yet amongst thy people art none so well traveled, and I deem that thou art widely known and respected. I would beg thy counsel, Helluin, for the years pass and someday I must order this realm. As part of a greater whole rather than as a whole unto itself do I see Númenor. Unlike the Queen, I would have knowledge of it." For some moments he was silent, but then continued on in a worried tone. "Aldarion, my grandfather, went oft to Lindon, and some fell business there occupied his mind. Yet I know but what I have read…words in scrolls, and old words at that."

He fell silent, looking at the scroll in Helluin's hand.

"'Tis old words in old scrolls that lay the foundation for understanding new words and current deeds, Anárion," Helluin said. "A knowledge of lore is the only substitute for the memory of times long past, and none remember all things. In Middle Earth the days grow dark and a great and ancient evil rises anew. I have seen the start of its great work, but the future I can only suspect. Not in the Queen's time, nor perhaps even in thine own shalt the battle be joined, yet preparations should be undertaken in advance. I fear that no interest in these things wilt the Queen have, but there is much to be done whilst peace yet lasts. Should the war in Middle Earth go ill, then Númenor shalt not be spared."

"Tell me of these things then, Helluin," Anárion asked, "for no other can."

And so in lieu of her audience with Tar-Ancalimë, Helluin began educating Anárion about the peoples and realms of Middle Earth as they now stood. She taught him of events and alliances, of the historic origins of the distrusts and friendships 'twixt realms and kings, and of the Enemy. Anárion harkened to all she said, and hungered yet for more. Indeed Helluin found his thirst unquenchable. None so like unto Vëantur had she met, so open and seeking after discovery, yet his ocean was knowledge and his ships were the scrolls of lore. Hope was renewed in her heart, that in future days the Númenóreans would indeed offer aid to the peoples of Middle Earth, and this Man, who had ne'er set foot upon a ship, would lead his people thither.

As the weeks passed into months and Helluin's audience was postponed again and again, she instructed Anárion in the languages of Middle Earth. Already he spoke Adûnaic, Sindarin, and Quenya. She taught him the Silvan dialect, such of the Khuzdul as she had learnt, then the vulgar Common Tongue, and some even of the Entish Speech. Next she gave him basic knowledge of crafts so that he might understand the requirements of builders and tradesmen, smiths and shipwrights, masons and armorers. T'would be necessary for him in the planning of alliances and deployments. And last, she taught him the tactics of battle, the strategies of war, and the necessities of morale and command. So the years passed, whilst in Númenor life continued and in Middle Earth Sauron grew e'er stronger.

'Twas 8 Cerveth, (July 8th), S.A. 1128 ere Tar-Ancalimë deigned to make time for Helluin's audience, and they met in a salon as a maidservant filed and painted the Queen's nails. Helluin looked askance at this "folly" but held her peace, for to her, royals were frivolous as oft as not.

"And what, pray tell, is thy business, Helluin of the Noldor," Ancalimë asked in a bored tone, her eyes carefully watching the filing of a curve. "I hope it hath not spoilt in the keeping." It had been o'er two and a half years since Helluin's arrival.

"I came to Númenor with warnings, O Queen," Helluin began, knowing that her errand had already been accomplished and her warning conveyed to the Heir, "and in token of the alliance of our kindreds in days long past. For in days to come a fell doom awaits. Evil awakens that was long thought vanquished in Beleriand. Sauron Gorthaur, the Lieutenant of Angband, orders a realm in Mordor 'nigh the havens of thy ships in Umbar."

The queen reacted to the news not at all, but regarded the colors the maidservant displayed upon a palette for her approval.

"The proper havens of our ships art in Rómenna and Andúnië and Eldalondë…and Mordor is far 'cross the sea," the Queen stated. "The name of Sauron seems vaguely familiar…perhaps I have heard it aforetime in some old tale? Ne'er mind, 'tis not our concern, the doings of the doomed upon the Hither Shores. From those trials the Valar removed us long ago. They art of no importance. Hast thou 'aught else to say?"

Here she regarded Helluin with a bored expression and then turned back to the palette to indicate her selection.

Helluin shrugged. Alike as they might look, she and Ancalimë had nothing in common. The Queen was a waste of time to Helluin, and vice versa it seemed.

"The deeds of the Hither Lands art of importance to many and to myself not the least," Helluin said, "and in future days perhaps to Númenor as well, for the breadth of Belegaer is not so great for a Maia as to put its conquest beyond his reach. Fair may thy land be, O Queen, and the more likely thus to attract Sauron's attention. And mark my words, though thou find little interest in him, he shalt find more in thee, for the hatred of a defeated enemy is stronger than the ease of a victor; especially one who earned not her victory and was only gifted her peace."

Now the Queen looked again at Helluin, and this time her eyes were darkened with anger, yet they were met by eyes undaunted that shone with light. Ancalimë saw in them the very spirit her mother had espoused; to stand as a woman and not be bent, to be a power unto oneself, and to exercise thy will unhindered. Grudgingly, she accorded Helluin a measure of respect.

"Take thou passage upon a ship and make thy way home to the Hither Lands since their fate concerns thee so closely," Tar-Ancalimë ordered, "and thither await such doom as thou foresees. Make no more prophecies of Númenor. We have our peace, whether earned or gifted. Thou may have thy war."

Thus dismissed, Helluin bowed and left the Queen. There was nothing more to say and she had already succeeded in her errand to Westernesse. The warning had come to the generation that would rule more closely to the time of necessity and that was well. She went to say her farewell to Anárion and then set out for Rómenna and the Guild of Venturers. Helluin hoped that Falmandil and his ship Linte Eari were in port. The Queen's leave would give her a chance to provide the Captain with a mission.

In Rómenna, Helluin espied the docks and saw the ship Fast Seas waiting at anchor, cleaned, painted, freshly rigged and taking on provisions. She came to the Guild House, and to the Master of the Guild she presented the Royal Order of Leave and made her request for Falmandil's service.

"I see the Queen has timed her dismissal of thee to coincide with Linte Eari's sailing for Lindon, and I shouldn't doubt that its approaching departure perhaps decided the date of thy audience," the Guildmaster told Helluin apologetically.

Helluin nodded in understanding. Such machinations probably passed for subtleties in Armenelos. Ancalimë was undoubtedly congratulating herself on ridding her court of the distracting Elf so smoothly. Indeed the Queen had done Helluin more favors than she could e'er understand, allowing her time and access to instruct her Heir, arranging for her quick departure, and favoring her with a Captain sympathetic to her needs.

"I should convey my thanks to the Queen," Helluin remarked, "for she would find it confusing, and as she does not perceive her own generosity, t'would vex her."

The Guildmaster chuckled at the sentiment though he understood not the reasons.

"Captain Falmandil is probably with his officers at the Inn of the West Wind," he told Helluin, "know'st thou that place?"

"Indeed I do," she said, "for it hath a long history and hath stood many years."

"Ahhh, yes. I should recall better my lore. Of course thou know'st the West Wind. Good day to thee then, Helluin. If I see thee not again, may Ulmo bless thy sailing and thy ventures bring good profit."

Helluin smiled at the customary words of farewell. She knew well the response.

"Good fortune to those who wait ashore. May the days pass in peace and bring thy kin safely home."

Shortly later, Helluin sat at a table not of her own choosing in the common room of the Inn of the West Wind. She had come directly from the Guildhouse and had found Falmandil and his officers directly. They had welcomed her and bid her join them at a large round table 'nigh the north-facing windows that o'erlooked the quay. 'Twas at this very table that Helluin had passed many an afternoon and evening, oft times staying late into the night, in the company of Vëantur and the mariners of an earlier era. Indeed 'twas the custom of captains debarking or embarking to come thither to drink, and to regale each other with their stories. Thus the tidings of missions and journeys had come first to the ears of the Captain-Admiral and Helluin. Almost she could hear the words of that bygone era and see long departed faces as she sat at that table, for 'twas woven with memories deep and dear from better times.

500 years later, she found little changed save the faces and the wear upon the tables and floor. Sailors were still sailors and the sea was e'er the sea. And though the prestige of the Guild had diminished noticeably during the reign of Ancalimë, still captains and crews drank and spun their tales of the deep. Returning mariners were welcomed with a round and open ears, whilst those outgoing were farewelled by those staying ashore. Now, though many griped of their hardships and the lot of mariners in Númenor, none would have changed their craft, for all had been called to the sea.

"So, thou were finally heard by the Queen?" Falmandil asked as Helluin took the offered seat and a mug was brought. "Surely the delivery of thy message took long enough. At least she finally opened her ears."

Helluin took a swig, finding ale in her cup. "Tar-Ancalimë marked not a word I said, though she heard enough to send me hence at once," she revealed, "yet my warnings were delivered and more besides."

The Captain looked at her with some confusion and Helluin explained.

"Whilst the Queen contemplated with gravity the colors yet to grace her nails, I spent two and a half years instructing the Heir." Here the captain gave an approving nod and a smile shaped his features. His men grinned and softly stamped their boots in agreement with her course and guile. "I trust that in the future the fortunes of the Guild and those in Middle Earth shalt move more closely together. Anárion is a noble man who cares much for both Númenor and her place within Arda. Unlike the Queen, he feels not that thy fate is a fate apart. He sees a wider vista and embraces it."

"Yet he is not a mariner," one of the officers observed, though not unkindly.

"He is not a mariner, true," Helluin agreed before taking another pull of ale, "and yet his spirit is intrepid. Upon the sea of knowledge hath he embarked, and in a ship of study he doth seek after discovery. In heart thou art more alike than not. I deem that when the time comes he shalt relish his excursions upon the waves. Some fine captain should stand ready to welcome him aboard in good company."

Falmandil nodded at the sentiment. Helluin's news was hopeful.

"Should I still ply the waves in his time, I would be honored to welcome the next king to my ship, but more likely that shalt be the honor of my son in his time," Falmandil said. "We can only 'wait the day and see. I sense that Ancalimë shalt clasp tight the reins of her reign so long as her fingers have strength to grasp."

"Undoubtedly that shalt be so," Helluin agreed. She shook her head disapprovingly and muttered, "would that I had been here to take that sour child o'er my knee."

The captain and his men, whose eyes at first widened at her blasphemy, recovered and shook with laughter. Then they raised their glasses and drank together and their spirits rose ere the coming journey.

Early the next day Linte Eari lay ready to sail, and the crew stood their stations aboard. Falmandil took his place upon the quarterdeck, the first mate and sailing master beside him, whilst the helmsman took the wheel. The master noted the sun's position, and seeing the time right, the wind fair, and the tide in its ebb flow, announced to the captain that the ship stood ready to be underway.

"Very well then, Master," Falmandil ordered. "take her out."

"Cast off all lines," ordered the first mate at the sailing master's nod. The deck hands loosed the ship's lines from their cleats and tossed them down to the men upon the wharf.

"Lo'r the fore top 'n stays'l…two points to starb'rd¹…steady for she goes," the sailing master called to the crew. ¹(a turn to the ship's right at an angle of 22.5 degrees from dead ahead)

Upon the foremast the rectangular topsail broke, fluttering white like a seabird's wing as it fell from the yardarm ere the lines hauled it taut. Then it bellied in the breeze and Linte Eari edged forward, gaining a little way. Ahead of the foremast the triangular fore staysail stretched and filled as it too caught air, and the turn to starboard became more pronounced. The helmsman spun the wheel, the rudder shifted, and the ship nosed away from the dock toward the outbound harbor lane.

Helluin stood at the bow watching the quay as the lines were cast off and the ship began to move. The Fast Seas fairly pulled as if eager to be upon the open ocean. Quickly her speed increased from a crawl to a walking pace, then faster still, 'til she outpaced the boys waving as they ran down the dock beside her. She cleared the quay and completed the turn to starboard, heading east and entering the lane leading out into the firth that stood inland of the Bay of Rómenna.

"Haul lively men, tops'ls 'n courses," the Master called, and the sailors leapt to the lines.

Upon the main and mizzen masts the topsails joined the one already lowered on the foremast. Linte Eari pulled at the water and her bow rose in answer as her speed increased. Then the great courses unfurled on the fore, main, and mizzen masts and the ship leapt ahead. She rode down the lane toward the open water of the bay, and somewhere a sailor broke into song. As the first foam grew at her bow cut, the lone sailor's voice was joined by many more, and with high hearts the crew drove their ship out towards the sea.

Now three gulls circled in and followed the ship's wake, and their cries were greeted with a cheer, for they were a good omen. Though they loved their homes, the crew lived to ply the sea, and the further from land the mariners went, the more these Men felt alive.

"Clear lane an' fine water ahead," called the lookout from the main top, a talan high upon the mainmast above the sails.

The sailing master gave his captain a look, a brow raised in question, familiar to both from many voyages. Falmandil glanced about the deck, at the Meneltarma towering behind and then at the gulls flying escort, and finally he grinned and nodded to the sailing master.

"Give'r her head," Falmandil said.

"Jib 'n stays'ls," the Master ordered. "Step lively men, lo'r the miz'n s'l."

Four more sails bloomed from bow to stern in rapid succession, the first a triangle above the bowsprit, then two more 'twixt the masts, and the last a tall rectangle behind the mizzen. Again Linte Eari gained speed. The Númenya Viava¹, Breath of the Valar, blew stronger yet as if abetting the Men's joy in their speed. From off the land behind the ship it sang amongst the lines and bellied the sails. The firth widened and Helluin could feel the ship pulling like a horse impatient to gallop, surging ahead down the wind. ¹(Númenya Viava, "West Wind", númen (west) + -ya = western +vaiva (wind), lit. trans. "Western Wind", Quenya)

Foam leapt at the prow and a mate called out, "run'n 18 knots, Lord Captain."

"Fine 'n steady she goes," the Sailing Master cried, and the crew heard the praise in the timbre of his voice.

"Now 20 knots, Lord Captain," the mate reported shortly later, and Helluin could hear the excitement in his voice. In Linte Eari's wake the gulls fell behind and finally turned back to shore with cries of farewell. Ten white sails filled with the breath of the West Wind floated above the hull like clouds marching 'neath the bright morning sun. And from 'twixt the peninsulas of Orrostar and Hyarrostar, the fast ship of Númenor rode out onto the Bay of Rómenna.

To Be Continued