In An Age Before – Part 36
They set out the next day, 25 Gwirith, 1699, crossing unseen behind the enemy lines and making their way northeast 'cross the devastated leagues of Eriador. On those occasions when they sensed Yrch close by, Helluin would leave Beinvír in some safe dell or copse and go out to slaughter them all, for in this she was unrelenting. Then upon returning afterwards, she would lead her friend by some other path, out of sight of the killing, sparing her from viewing the carnage. In this way they came again to the pine clad slopes of the Hithaeglir at the end of Lothron.
The remnant force left behind by Sauron dissuaded them not at all. Helluin and Beinvír cut their way through their leaguer and came to the paths leading upland to the hidden valley.
Now Helluin and Beinvír had ne'er yet entered the narrow pass through the red cliffs that led down to that sloping final mile of open wood ere the Ford of Bruinen that was the guarded entrance to Imladris. Therefore, though they knew the way, they went with stealth by a much harder but unguarded route, e'er seeking not to be discovered by the enemy, or shot by the sentries of that land. So 'twas o'er the sheer cliffs rather than through the defile that they came, bypassing thus the outer guard. Then marching out onto the meadow before the ford, Helluin stood before Beinvír lest any arrows come at them, and she revealed herself as one who had lived in the Blessed Realm.
'Cross the Bruinen the sentries saw two figures enmeshed in a growing light, an efflorescence of silver and gold that flashed to a blinding white in a heartbeat and then diminished to a figure kindled by the Light of Aman. By this were they warned and given notice that indeed 'twas one of the Calaquendi that approached, and she one of great power amongst that kindred. As a body in raiment of Light did Helluin make her way to the hither bank of the river, and there she halted and reclaimed her normal guise. Thence she hailed the sentries on the thither shore, and from 'cross the water her voice was heard clearly by those guarding the path into the ascending wood.
"Hail ye, O Guardians of Imladris. Here art Helluin of the Host of Finwë, and with her, Beinvír of the Laiquendi, newly come from the war. We seek sanctuary, and succor from the carnage, and would greet thy lords, Elrond of Lindon and Celeborn of Lórinand."
From the far bank came the voice of the officer of the watch in answer.
"Come ye hither, warriors of fell hand and blooded blade, for Imladris is the north refuge of our folk in this time of war and 'tis open to any of the Eldar that come from pursuit by the Enemy. Few know the way, and in finding it, ye have also found friends."
Helluin and Beinvír were taken directly to Elrond, and there also was Celeborn, for both greatly desired to hear what tidings of the war the two could tell. None of their host had ventured forth since Imladris had been founded in Narwain, (January), of 1697, a year and a half ago.
Elrond's brows gathered as he saw the two. Upon Helluin lay a darkness he could easily perceive with senses developed by his healer's training. Helluin, he knew, had e'er been dour and given in the past to a frightening battle rage, but ne'er aforetime had he seen the sooty aura that lay about her now. Yet worse was the despondency of spirit he detected in Beinvír. For Beinvír he feared, for she was but steps from willing her own separation. Whate'er horrors they had met in battle had left its mark deep upon them both. In Helluin it had exacerbated those tendencies known aforetime. She would likely heal. In Beinvír the impact had become acute and her fate was uncertain, even doubtful, for upon her fëa lay mourning and melancholy recently acquired and alien to her nature. She sat before him, pale and hollow-eyed, where aforetime she had been e'er vivacious and warm.
"How stands the battle?" Elrond asked.
"It moves west after defeat upon defeat, Lord Elrond," Helluin answered. "Gil-galad is driven beyond Baranduin and Sauron makes to take Lindon. The High King stands greatly outnumbered and Númenor has not come."
"And what of our other allies?" Celeborn asked.
"Of the Nandor of Prince Amroth and the Naugrim of Durin, both art for the time safe within the mansions of Khazad-dûm. The Doors of Celebrimbor hold fast and none of the enemy may enter. Of the Laiquendi, they slay such as come 'nigh, shooting many but seeking out none. 'Tis for the Dúnedain that all now hope, and yet their coming should have been many years past and the hope of them dwindles. 'Naught has been heard from them, though those already upon the Hither Shores fight valiantly for the king."
Helluin's words were as concise as any battlefield report given by a commander's adjutant, but her eyes had been far away and her voice empty. Beinvír had said 'naught and had merely stared into space, wholly withdrawn. The tidings Elrond thought bad enough. The condition of his two friends worse. About the war he could do little. For Helluin and Beinvír he would try to do much.
T'would start with a period of transition from war to peace, and from the brutal ugliness of the battlefield to the unspoiled beauty of Imladris. Days spent amidst sparkling streams and unsullied uplands where no sounds of fighting and no evidence of war intruded would help ease the immediacy of the horrors his friends had been constantly immersed in for the last few years. As life was a road, each hour took the two a step further from their trauma. And each such step was an affirmation of the next. For Beinvír especially, living one day at a time was important, for each was a day alive in which her hope for the future could grow and her despair diminish.
After a week Helluin and Elrond met to begin her therapy.
"Open thy mind to me, Helluin," Elrond asked as they sat together in his newly completed study. Though bright with early afternoon light, the room was almost bare, for both writings and the materials to write with were yet scarce in the refuge.
"Dost thou truly wish to share in such horrors?" Helluin asked in surprise. "I have done and seen deeds as may leave thee as shivered in spirit as is Beinvír."
"I have seen the horrors upon the battlefield, my friend. Both the slaying and the fear. I was still young at the slaughter of my people in Avernien and the fighting thereafter."
Helluin nodded; she had not forgotten the battle in Taur-Im-Duinath, whither she had found him and his brother, Elros in the company of Maedhros and Maglor.
"Of such I am sure thou hast been forced to endure, yet in my war such trials pale. I have fought the fifth front in the deeps of the night, and from the well of darkness has my soul drunk deep. Thou hast seen 'naught of such horrors, I deem, and dreamt them not, I pray," she said in warning.
"Ne'ertheless I see the reflection of fell deeds upon thee; a darkness has arisen within thee that I would dismiss. Thou once had rage amidst thy spirit. Now thou hast become thy rage, am I not correct?"
"Indeed so; I am become the hand of wrath."
"Then show to me the blood upon thy hands."
Here Elrond looked into Helluin's eyes, willing her to open her heart to him. He had been warned. She could do 'naught but share with him, though the gift might o'erthrow him. Helluin returned his gaze and he was immediately seized and captured within it, his mind reeling from the strength of her will. Though Elrond had chosen the life of the Eldar, he was Peredhel. She was 4,518 years his senior, well 'nigh four times his age, and she was a true Calaquende; in her the Light of the Trees was concentrated as in no other upon the Hither Shores, indeed upon any shore. Then she shared the images of her memories. O'er four years of war, o'er five thousands of the enemy slain by her hand, and few enough of those left fit for their graves.
Elrond saw, from the summer of 1695, how Helluin and Beinvír had preserved his left flank. He saw the slaughter they had wrought with sword and bow on the far banks of Mitheithel and Bruinen. He saw the slaying in the night. 1696 came and went with bloodletting, and he was astonished at how close she had been to his force throughout, though ne'er had he marked her. She had watched the assaults of Gil-galad's army, and the movements of the Naugrim and the Nandor, and then the retreat of both to Khazad-dûm. Beyond his guarded cliffs she had hunted the Yrch in the very woods upon his threshold. And then she had turned away south to harry the Glamhoth.
Then in 1697 she saw at last the pitiful remains of her friend, Celebrimbor, shot with many arrows and mummified slowly o'er many campfires; shrunken, blackened, preserved by the soot, and still swinging upon the standard pole of the Glamhoth like some macabre puppet carelessly fabricated of smokehouse meats. Well 'nigh two years after his death his pathetic corpse still marched before the host of his enemies. Elrond was shocked at the sight, but he felt Helluin's wrath explode and that was more terrible still; the night had come down.
I shalt share with thee as thou bid, hiding 'naught so thou shalt understand aright the nature of what I have seen and what I have done, and why suffers so my friend. For me thou can do 'naught, I deem, but for her perhaps some good can thou bring, Young Healer. And so I charge thee, watch, and I shalt share as thou beseeched me, though it damn me in thine eyes and in the eyes of all our people.
Now Elrond's body squirmed in his chair as his gaze was held captive by the piercing blue eyes Helluin had been named for. Therein marched the chronicle of her war's horror…the countless bodies hewn after death and left impaled. The heads flung into the enemy camp each dawn. The mutilations and atrocities she had committed were paraded before his mind's eye as if in some nightmare kaleidoscope. Yea, they were forced upon him, tamped down the gullet of his memory as grain into the craw of a pâté goose. Elrond began to struggle in revulsion, but Helluin constrained him and he could not shy away. He was held thrall by her will, and by the glamours of her enchantments he was forced to witness the carnage she had wrought upon their enemies.
He saw the tableaus she had left displayed for the Yrch, the cobbling together of their body parts into unnatural figures, the coming of Sauron to view them, and by what slender a margin Beinvír had restrained her from the attempt to slay him with the Sarchram. Even with all his powers Gorthaur could not see her, yet preserved by her stealth, she had stalked him. And the carnage had continued through the year 1698 and into 1699, as she and her ailing friend followed the Glamhoth 'cross Eriador, wrecking upon them such carnage and horror as they could inflict. With her, Elrond drank in their fear, supped upon their terror, and reveled in the spilling of their blood. And when she at last released him, he slumped back in his chair gasping for breath; eyes clenched shut, grinding his teeth, and twitching as if in great pain.
"Perhaps 'tis I who should now heal thee," she said softly as she watched him writhing and trying to accommodate the pictures and feelings she had shown him. She sat silent in her chair and waited as the afternoon fled.
'Twas long ere he could digest what he had seen. Night had fallen when he finally sat upright and breathed with ease again, and still his mind was haunted. Ne'er would he forget.
"Verily into the Void hast thou ventured, for such hatred comes not naturally to the spirit of the Eldar within the Circles of Arda. Yet thou hast seen in Ages past that Eternal Night and thou art familiar with it, and so for thee perhaps 'twas but a return to a place already known and accepted. Thou art acquainted with that place of chaos, whither no law or rule of conduct holds sway, and whither no fear or hatred is unknown. For thy friend, indeed for any other, I deem, such a visit would be fraught with terror. Having walked in thy steps through these years of war, I am surprised that Beinvír still treads this shore. Just by seeing the path thou hast strode am I chilled to the quick. Even were I to come thither to Aman, ne'er shalt I look through that window upon the darkness of the Void, knowing now 'aught of what lies therein, and if like her were I driven hence perforce, I should recoil in fear and loathing."
"The Void is not to be feared, Elrond, only that which we ourselves create to fill it. Evil and hatred art amongst the known, but true emptiness is not within our capacity to accept. Rage in battle has long ruled my spirit, and in my long years of unaccompanyment I had accepted it to fill the lesser void within. E'er war kindles my rage anew, yet despite being accompanied of late, I have not changed in this, and perhaps I cannot. Beinvír has suffered the knowledge of my rage more than she has suffered the ravages of war."
Elrond weighed her words. He had ne'er seen the Void, nor lived in Aman. He knew of her long years there mostly from the stories of others, and these were few. Yet when first Glorfindel had arrived in Lindon, he had once spoken of Helluin and of the millennia she had spent wandering the Blessed Realm unaccompanied. For a great part of her time, Helluin had conducted herself thus in Middle Earth as well.
In such solitude 'twas conceivable that she had developed values and beliefs dissimilar to other Elves. Indeed she was unlike most other Elves in her preference for solitude. Perhaps from the start she had been different. Perhaps from the start she had been fated to walk a different path. Obviously she was not as horrified by her conduct as Beinvír had been, or as was he. She seemed able to set aside the conventional ideals of propriety, and judge what was acceptable by her own criteria alone.
A law unto herself at heart. Asocial, Elrond thought…she is at least partially asocial, and war has seduced her to revert to the options that asociality confers. Helluin was only weakly compelled to let social sanctions dictate her behavior. It left her free to act, but also removed the conventional restraints upon her actions. As such she could accomplish much and might be capable of anything. 'Twas a frightening prospect.
"Dost thou condemn thyself for thy actions…those that many would judge atrocities?"
"Thou mean the dismemberment and mutilation of the slain? Nay, I do not. I have met force with force, sword with sword, and terror with terror. This enemy deserves 'naught else of me. Yet its impact upon my friend I loath. For her well being would I desist, and in desire of such have I come hither, thereby to distance myself from the conflict and the necessity. For her sake only do I seek to constrain my actions."
"Not for some abstract sense of right or wrong?"
"I know right from wrong, Elrond. I know justice from injustice, and mercy from cruelty. Yet I have freed myself, either of such judgments as do not apply, or to know when to hold in abeyance such judgments as would hamper me."
"And thou trust thyself to be the judge of such?"
"In lieu of any other I trust more, I do."
"And yet thou art here and thy friend is ailing. In realization of the failing of thy judgment, art thou not trusting somewhat in her judgment?"
Helluin regarded the bleak truth of Elrond's words. She had judged her own actions appropriate for the circumstances, but Beinvír's reaction to them had brought them hence. The horror she had unleashed had brought her friend 'nigh to losing her will to live, for Helluin had trapped her beloved in a choice 'twixt the misery of staying to partake in her mayhem, or leaving and abandoning her lover to her unmitigated violence. It had been a Bangthaur¹, with either choice leading to pain and anguish, but Beinvír had chosen to endure the horrors with her beloved though it might cost her own life, rather than leave Helluin to a suicidal rampage brought on by her uncontrollable wrath. ¹(Bangthaur = bango-(trade) - -o(verb ending) + thaur(abhorrent or abominable) lit. trans. Abhorrent Trade vern. trans. Devil's Bargain.Sindarin)
When she'd resolved to forgo the war and bring Beinvír to Imladris, Helluin had made the decision for practical reasons. Removing the Green Elf from the continuing violence and giving her spirit a respite from the carnage was a functional necessity as obvious as eating or remaining hidden. As always, Helluin had known what to do and had acted decisively to resolve the problem. But she had ne'er assessed whether such suffering had been necessary in the first place. All she had wanted to do was torment her enemies as they deserved. To those who sowed destruction and reveled in cruelty, she had become the mirror, visiting their own upon them in greater measure, so to drive them with a terror to rival their master. Perhaps she had gone too far; acted too autonomously despite Beinvír's company. At least in the end her beloved's well being had taken precedence o'er her wrath. She nodded to herself.
"Perhaps we should have shared more equally in the decisions regarding whether to use all body parts, or merely the heads," Helluin admitted reluctantly.
Elrond groaned. He could not imagine Beinvír favoring anything but leaving the dead where they lay. Yet Helluin was pondering the possibility seriously.
"I deem thou art missing the point, Helluin," he said. He reclaimed her attention and she regarded him now with a questioning expression.
"Thou believe that we should have used thus the Easterlings as well, Elrond?"
"Nay, I do not!" The Peredhel cried out in exasperation. "I wager the killing alone was horror aplenty to her, and that borne with sorrow. But when compounded by the indignities thou visited upon the dead, 'twas those acts that exceeded what Beinvír's spirit would accept, even in war."
"Oh. But she accompanied me in battle despite all that…"
"And 'naught for any reason save that she loves thee and would not leave thee to thy mania. In truth Helluin, did she not faithfully watch thy back in battle, yet partake not of thy activities afterwards?"
Helluin thought back o'er the years of fighting. Ne'er once had the Green Elf helped her hew the cadavers or arrange the remains.
"'Tis as thou say," she agreed after reflection.
"Then I say that 'naught shalt cure her and restore her will to live save the renunciation of thy preoccupation with terrorism. Slay thy enemies in battle when necessary, Helluin, that she may countenance, but leave them then upon the field unmolested. The warrior she can accept, the monster curdles her blood."
After some reflection Helluin sighed and nodded in agreement. She supposed that to most, her actions would have seemed monstrous…she really wasn't sure. But Beinvír had fallen in love with the explorer, not the warrior, and had loved her still even during her fall into darkness. The Green Elf had stayed by her side, even as she had during the time Helluin had fought off the attack by Sauron in 1600.
I cannot torment her any longer and do not now deserve her company, Helluin thought, yet still, I shalt do what I can to heal her, for I owe her that and more. And Helluin realized that throughout the years of war, the stars had not shone nearly so bright to her eye as they had aboard the Valacirca on one magickal night. Indeed she had scarce even thought of them 'til now, and thinking about them made her realize that she missed them. She wondered if she would e'er see them thus again, brightened through the eyes of love.
Elrond left Helluin deep in thought in his study, and he went thence to the quarters of the hospice in which Beinvír had settled. 'Twas an airy building of many cozy rooms, each with its arched windows looking out upon the forests. The hospice had been intentionally located on the most beautiful grounds in the valley, yet still near enough to the main buildings to be acceptable for service and safety, with fresh air and light and the sounds of running water in abundance. Each room had access to the long, sheltered portico, as well as the inner hallway and courtyard. Thither he stood a moment in the doorway and studied the Green Elf, noting that she merely sat unmoving upon her bed, staring out through a window into the darkened woods, as if in wonder at the placid swaying of the trees.
"Beinvír," he called softly to announce his presence without startling her. Still she gave a slight recoil anyway, then shook herself, shedding whate'er thoughts had occupied her ere she turned to meet his gaze.
"Hello, Elrond," she said, blinking to help focus her eyes, "thy valley is very lovely and I have craved such peace. I should like to stay here a while." She sighed softly. "Say not that Helluin is resolved to return to the war."
"She is not, and I agree that thou should remain hither for some time. Rest and peace, and surcease of war's horror dost thou need, for thy spirit craves such, and I deem that nowadays in this part of Middle Earth, only hither shalt thou find it."
"Then I am glad," Beinvír said, turning again to look at the vista beyond the window. Amongst the boughs hung a number of lamps with soft lights of blue, white, and green.
"Thou art welcome to stay so long as it pleases thee," Elrond told her, glad to see her return her gaze to him and smile. "There art many pleasant views to enjoy."
"I shalt look upon them with thanksgiving."
"Wilt thou join the company of Imladris for the evening meal?" Elrond asked Beinvír hopefully. "It might do thee good to speak with others not recently at war."
The Green Elf looked down at the floor and shivered. She was only just adjusting to surroundings not fraught with danger, not populated with enemies 'nigh to hand, and not scented by the constant stench of death pervading all. Beinvír had found that she was unable to relax; the years of tension had driven the mechanism from her and she was long out of practice. She wasn't comfortable yet. Readjustment would take time and Beinvír couldn't yet imagine e'er being the same as she had once been. 'Twas too early.
"Perhaps one day I shalt enjoy such company as is available amongst thy folk…some conversation, some songs, perhaps, and camaraderie at meals. For now, I know not what I would say other than how best to stalk and slay. In moments of fancy would I see them all reduced to cadavers. Of late I have been keeping company mostly with the dead." She shook her head apologetically and wrapped her arms 'round herself.
"When thou feel comfortable, thou may dine with my folk in the Hall of Feasting," Elrond suggested, "and in the evenings after supping do many gather in the Hall of Fire, for companionship, and songs, and tales. Whene'er thou come thither, thou shalt be welcome, Beinvír."
She nodded to him and he gave her a smile ere he retreated from her room.
Unlike Beinvír, Helluin took her meals in the Feasting Hall. Thither, predictably, the company of Imladris questioned her much about the war. And unlike Beinvír, Helluin had no reticence in sharing the details of stalking and slaying. She shared her knowledge and experience, enthralling many, but eventually turning the hearts of all to ice. They were soon horrified with her reminiscences and anecdotes. It made them all the more thankful for having retreated to their secret refuge. Upon this belief too she put forward her commentary, likening the hidden valley of Imladris to the hidden city of Gondolin; a self-deceiving illusion of safety all the more traumatic in its eventual fall. Soon she was regarded as a doomsday prophet and a depressing companion, and the Elves withdrew from her. Having spent so much time alone and being e'er comfortable with her own company, Helluin barely noticed.
Each day Helluin spent many hours at the hospice in Beinvír's company. 'Twas obvious that they enjoyed each other's presence, for e'er they sat close together, oft upon the benches of the long portico, enjoying the shade 'neath the canopy roof with its many columns carved like the trunks of straight, white birches. Mostly they were silent, staring off into the forest beyond the balustrade, watching the breeze tickle the leaves, and listening to the voice of the stream that ran 'nigh.
To be Continued