Chapter 4 - Cast Down Your Cloak
It was a moonless night as the cloaked figure rushed through the trees. Urgent was her task as her heart pained and the night was unfriendly. Her steps were light and quick, and hardly a sound she made as she ran.
But another noticed.
A large hound's ears perked, not far from the fleeing cloaked maiden. In an instant, he was on his paws and bounding through the trees. Two large ellons who were not far from the hound, spotted him leave and followed quickly after on horseback.
They were not as quiet as she.
The instant she heard the swift paws of the great hound and the thunder of the horses, she froze, drawing her cloak close, just in time for the hound to slide to a stop in front of her. Not a moment later, the two ellons stopped before her.
One had a head full of dark hair, and with his strong arms, he held his armed bow, aimed steadily at the figure in the dark. The other was fair in hair as well as features, and though he seemed calmer, his hand remained on the hilt of his blade at his side.
The maiden's bright eyes narrowed at the duo as the dark one spoke, "Who are you and what is your business in the land of Nargothrond?"
"My business is none of yours."
They both blinked as they exchanged glances with each other. Her cloak hid her well as they knew not she was a woman.
"Cast down your cloak," the fair one ventured.
She hesitated, doubting them both, but she was in need of aid, and aside from their own defense, they were friendlier than most. In a swift motion, her dark cloak was cast aside and revealed her as a maiden of fair light, brighter than the moon that now dared to shine through the parting clouds in the dark night.
If they had been any normal ellons, their jaws would have dropped, but instead, a grin twisted the fair one's face as the dark one lowered his bow.
"Fair Lady Luthien, so far from home?" he questioned, holding back his sarcasm. "You seem in need of shelter in this dark night, let us aid you."
Once more was she hesitant, but with a nod, she stepped forward. The fair one gladly took the opportunity and swept her up on the back of his horse.
"I am Celegorm, and this is Curufin. The city of Nargothrond is not far from here, there you can find rest."
She nodded as the horses and the hound started on a trot through the trees, but no thank you issued from her lips as her heart was still burdened.
--
Thuriniel awoke with another start and with a darkened and pained heart, the feeling she held throughout the dream, but with a startled gasp, she noticed she was glowing. It was faint, but it was greater than any other elf, and it was not due to the early morning sunlight that filled the bright room.
She stood, and still the glow did not leave her. Nothing like this had happened before, save for…She remembered her slumber from long ago, after she received news of Erenion's death. It had been nearly an age since she left Lindon and all she had grown familiar with, as well as the terribly happy memories, behind.
She now moved to the window and looked out at the slightly empty city. The Grey Havens was always empty for few ever stayed long. Thuriniel was among the few. The rest were caretakers of the city or lone elves, like her, debating whether or not to leave.
She could easily see the harbor from her window, and the silent ships rested, waiting for their travel. A couple of ellons wandered through the plaza below, talking quietly amongst themselves. Thuriniel didn't bother to listen in.
She moved again to get dressed and it was not long before she was in the very plaza she was looking down at. She sat at her usual place along the balcony, looking out over the calm waters of the sea.
Her thoughts went to her dream; she had gone so long since last having one. The last was the last day she heard the news of Erenion. What had caused it, she didn't know. Perhaps it was the beginning of more to come, like it had been when the dreams started the last time.
But she remembered it clearly, as if it had actually happened yesterday. Nargothrond. Never before had she heard of that city, but the names of Celegorm and Curufin were vaguely familiar.
Long had she stayed in the Grey Havens, often debating herself about traveling to the West and away from Erenion's memory. But the West did not call to her, she felt as if she did not belong there.
At least her time in the Grey Havens had payed off. They had endless amounts of scrolls, and none of them were hidden. Once she thought about it a few years after she first arrived, she looked for the scrolls of the First Age. She found a few, but only a few. And all were mainly around the sons of Feanor. Two of them were Celegorm and Curufin, but she never read anything about Nargothrond or a maiden who seemed so familiar, yet continued to haunt her dreams.
She stayed only a few moments at her usual spot, but she needed to find out more about this dream, about Nargothrond, so she stood and quickly went to find the library.
Still did her heart pain from the dream, or from something more, as she entered the small library, but little good it would do to heed it. Her fingers moved along the scrolls quickly until she found what she was looking for. Pulling a large scroll from its dusty place on the shelf, she moved to sit at the table that rested in the center of the room. Rolling it open, she read through it.
It wrote of the great King of the Noldor, Feanor, who was the greatest craftsman of all time. His skill was so great; he created the Silmarils, three jewels that were greater than the light of the trees, the power and beauty of the world. But a Dark Lord by the name of Morgoth, and a fellow fiend, stole the jewels and slew Feanor's father before fleeing to Arda. Feanor and his seven sons then declared an oath that they would never stop hunting Morgoth or any other until they possessed the Silmarils once more. They, along with many of the Noldo of the West, left to travel to Arda, producing the first kinslaying along the way. From that, Feanor received his name, the Kinslayer.
Thuriniel sighed. This she had already read. She continued to read through the scroll in search of Nargothrond, but there was no such word.
Scroll after scroll she searched, but still she couldn't find anything on the city she dreamed about.
Night had already fallen again, and with a long sigh, she stood once more and retreaded back to her room. She only had a dreamless sleep, but again did her heart pain, and again, day after day, did she return to the library to search the scrolls.