Chapter Six
Warnings: none
(Merlassë)
The night was dark. The stars were hidden behind thick clouds that had overcome us early in the afternoon, and the chill of winter hung about in the air. I wrapped my dark cloak around me tighter and slipped quietly between the bared trees, no more than a shadow in the night – if there can be shadows when there is no light. The hiss of the cold northern wind brushing past the naked eaves of the late autumn trees was the only sound to be heard in the silence of the night. The branches rattled as it passed through the forest, raising the whispers of the fallen leaves on the forest floor. The Elves keep watch this night. They whispered. The Eldalë with the sleepless eyes. I heard the wind's warning and I heeded it with care.
I was not alone.
The night was dark, but the elven archers of Duilin's guard watched with eyes that pierced the inky veil of the night. They waited silently, high in the arms of the trees, tall evergreens that kept their dark needles through the cold of winter. And there they watched carefully, as duty would have them, for any signs of the servants of Morgoth, silently hoping that any man or elf that may be nearby would choose to keep well away from the encampment that night.
But the night was quiet, and naught was heard but the wind as it passed between the bare eaves of the trees, like the hissing of the cloak of winter as she crept slowly over the land. The wind passed with a sigh across the river near to the elven encampment, raising a vapour above its chilled waters, which crept slowly across the forest floor, cloaking it in a sea of hazy grey from the sharp elven eyes. But gradually, the blanket of fog moved further downstream, concerning the elven archers no more and leaving them to watch without impediment once again.
(Merlassë)
Sheltered by the damp cloak of the river, I moved further and further from the camp of the Eldalië, following the bends of the river as it wound its way south. Then, when I thought me to be alone and far enough from the encampment to be undisturbed by any guards or patrols, I threw off the cloak of mist I had cast around me to evade the piercing starlit eyes of the Eldalië. I stood pensively by the banks of the river staring into its rippled waters pulsing steadily past, its waters swelled by the increased rainfall of the previous weeks. Tentatively, I lifted my skirts and stepped into the cold waters of the river, feeling its caress around my bare ankles. I knelt on the rocky riverbed and dipped my hand into the powerful current of the river, feeling its life in me as I called silently to its Lord and master.
My friend, I would seek your company.
I felt a powerful surge of the current hurry past me as my reply, and I turned to see the majestic figure of the Lord of the Waters towering with might over me.
"Foolish girl, why have you come here?"
"I would have the pleasure of your company, would you deny me it?" I answered.
"You have been graced with the company of the firstborn, what more do you want?" He replied.
"I would set eyes upon the face of one of my own kind, after all these months in the guise of one whom I am not." I told him. "I would speak in truth to one who knows me best, and tell him of what new sights I have seen, all these months among the Eldalië."
Ulmo sighed. "You do not think of the consequences of your actions do you? You are just like your brother. You would live life on a whim, without giving once a thought of the future."
"I see no wrong with such a way to live. I find the future such a tiresome thing." I said to him.
"Your thoughtlessness would put in danger all those you have come to care for!" He roared suddenly. The waters of the river rushed past me violently with the rage of its lord. I cowered in the sight of the Lord of the Waters, and I shrank back from the terrible face of my friend in his anger. But as suddenly as it came did it go, and the river sank back into its plodding pace while I looked once again into the kindly face of my dearest friend.
"Come little Merlassë, do not look at me so, I did not mean to frighten you." He said gently, bringing me into his powerful embrace. "There is much yet you still have to learn, and the disposition you inherited from your brother will not do to serve you well in the dangers of these lands."
"And what else would you have me say, my lord? Would you have me utter untruths of what I think and feel, like the traitor Melkor?" I demanded as he surrounded me with his comforting presence, my spirit still trembling a little from the memory of the terrible countenance of my friend.
His expression darkened a little at the mention of the traitor's name, and the waters surged once again like a ripple in the calm of the river. But it too passed, and he spoke once again.
"No, I would not have you speak untruths. I prefer you as you are, my naïve little singer. But you must learn if you would survive the siege of the traitor upon these fair lands of Ilúvatar."
"I am perfectly capable of keeping out of trouble, my friend." I told him rather indignantly.
"But would you bring trouble upon those who keep you in their confidence and care?" He answered quietly. I was silent at his words.
"You have risked much to come here tonight." He continued after a moment, "Did it ever occur to you that that mist you called up from the river could have concealed more than just yourself? Did it even cross your mind that there was a good reason why those in the encampment were forbidden to wander outside its borders? Could you have borne the responsibility of attracting unwanted attention upon the camp of the Eldalië?"
I listened to the words of my friend with a sinking heart. In truth I did not think at all of the consequences of my actions when I left the camp tonight. I, who have been used to living untroubled and without a care, did not even stop to think of the dangers of what I am doing. For the first time in my life, shame filled me as I stood before my friend, recalling all the follies of my conduct.
"Please Ulmo, it was not my intent to endanger those whom I would call friends." I said pleadingly at last, "I did not think."
"Well that is apparent." He muttered under his breath. I hung my head in shame, horrified at how I could have been so thoughtless. Had I always been this way? So selfish and uncaring of the troubles of others? What would my Beloved Father think of me now? Would he still love me and call me his?
I was brought back from the depths of my thoughts as my friend gently raised my chin to meet his gaze. But I could not look at him, could not so much as meet those piercing eyes of his to so unworthy a soul.
"Merlassë, little one, look at me."
I raised my gaze reluctantly to meet his, and found myself looking into the warm, gentle eyes of the Lord of the Waters. He then spoke to me kindly, in his rich, low voice as deep as the sea.
"It is not your fault that you have never been taught to think this way. You have never had cause to think of danger. It has been an utterly foreign notion to you. Do not blame yourself overly much for acting the way that you did. It is not your fault."
"But Ulmo," I replied, "how can I live with myself knowing that I have acted thus foolishly? How will I face Father again knowing I have thusly endangered his children by my folly? I am not fit to care for the Children. I should have never come here." Shame and sorrow pervaded my very being, until I thought I no longer deserved to exist in this wonderful world created by Eru.
"Merlassë," He said gently, forcing me to meet his gaze once again, "never think that. You know that Eru will love each of us equally no matter what we may have or will have done. He will love you no less because you have committed this single small folly, just as he will love Melkor none the less, though he may have fallen into darkness. You must not despair at this one blunder when it is more important to take lesson from it and come out the better because of it. See, you have become wiser and more cautious because of it. Do not depair, little singer." He smiled at me, his mind brushing past mine reassuring and comforting.
I smiled weakly back at my friend, taking heart from his wise words. "I wish I had your wisdom, my friend. I must seem terribly stupid and ignorant to you."
"Stupid?" he replied, quirking a corner of his mouth, "no. Only…young and naïve and lacking better influence from that brother of yours, but stupid? No."
"You say this to appease me, Ulmo," I said, "I know that not to be true."
"Truly, I mean what I said little singer." He replied in turn, "Fools do not realize they are foolish, but only the wise admit their follies and learn from their errors."
"But I did not realize my folly until you told me of it." I said pointedly. Ulmo only smiled.
"Sometimes we all need someone to point out our mistakes for us."
(Glorfindel)
The pass through the mountain had been difficult and rough. I rode day and night at a breakneck speed to the point of rendering even my elven horse lame, in order to make my destination and back in time. The winding road through the mountains had fallen into disrepair from lack of use and in several places, the path was even broken off and my horse was forced to jump the gap. But so far, we have been making good time and I was in high hopes of crossing Dor-Lómin within the week. And from there, I would ride on in relative ease into Hithlum and the halls of Fingolfin by the northern shores of Lake Mithrim, thus completing my errand.
But my hopes were dampened slightly by the heavy grey clouds looming ominously overhead, silently threatening snow later in the evening. The weather was growing steadily colder, and I was glad I had packed warm clothes and my fur-lined cloak. Winter was fast closing in upon us.
xXXXx
By mid-day the temperature had dropped considerably, and a light dusting of snow drifted lightly down from the heavy grey skies as I made my slow descent from the rugged crags of the Ered Wethrin. Far below me lay the plains and forests of Dor-Lómin, a grey expanse stretching out in every direction the eye can see. And in the distance white mountains rose proudly from the plains, a great barrier between the lands of Dor-Lómin and Mithrim, serving to hinder me from my aimed destination. Surveying the land spreading out below me and calculating the distance I had yet to cover, I sighed. It would take me at least another week to reach the pass through the Mountains of Mithrim and make my way to Lake Mithrim.
I was beginning to doubt I was going to make it back in the required time. And I started to wonder what would become of me, should I miss the date. Would I then be forever sundered from my King and brother, and from all whom I call friend? Would I never again see the elleth whom I was just beginning to come to know, fair Linneniel of the radiant eyes? I stopped myself from that train of thought. I must concentrate on reaching Dor-Lómin before nightfall. And then perhaps stopping to eat and refill my water skins, I will be on my way again, riding through the night across Dor-Lómin. My horse was beginning to show signs of tiring, but I urged him gently on. I could not afford to lose any time at all.
"I'm sorry, mellon nin," I said, patting my trusty stallion lightly on his muzzle, "but I must get to Mithrim within the fortnight, I cannot tary lest I am late in returning. And that would not bode well for us at all…" My stallion snorted in answer, a bit reluctant in continuing but understanding nonetheless.
"It will not bode well for us at all to be late…"
(Merlassë)
"Where have you been Linneniel?"
I heard the familiar gentle voice of Lenwë calling to me as I silently slipped back into the camp after my conversation with Ulmo by the riverside. Late was the hour of night when I finally parted company with my friend and made my way back to the elven encampment, aided by the enchantments of Ulmo. The firesides were emptied of most of its occupants, as even most of the Eldalië sought the dream paths at that hour of night. I was surprised then, to hear the voice of my elven friend, having assumed that he too had sought the comforts of sleep.
"Lenwë. You should be resting at this hour." I replied, turning to look into Lenwë's searching grey gaze.
"Where have you been Linneniel?" He repeated his question again, a little more quietly this time. I smiled at him.
"I went for a walk, my friend. Did I not tell you so before I left?" I answered him cheerily.
"I have searched the entire camp looking for you. You were not anywhere in the camp." He said quietly.
"But of course I was in the camp, Lenwë." I said, a little worried now, "We must have just missed each other." Lenwë did not look convinced.
"You were not anywhere in the camp Linneniel and you know it." He said dangerously quiet now, "Do not lie to me, I have spent the better part of six hours looking for you. I will not be so ill repaid for my efforts."
I did not answer him but turned away. How on Arda was I supposed to explain this away? Ulmo was right, this was folly, and I had just immersed myself deeper into it.
"Linneniel. Answer me."
This time, Lenwë's voice was unrelenting. He was not going to go away without an answer. One that I could not give him.
"Do you have any idea how worried I have been? How my heart has been sick with dread thinking that harm could have befallen you?" his voice now sounded stricken. I turned to see his face full of grief and also of relief. "Did you have any idea what passed through my mind as I began asking the guards one by one if they had seen or heard of a dark haired elleth at all."
"Can you imagine my alarm when one of the guards recalled seeing you just after nightfall, seeking to leave the encampment, and then you were neither seen nor heard of afterwards?" He continued, his face a picture of anxiety. "Tell me Linneniel, have you been outside of the encampment?"
His was an honest question, one that deserved an answer. But I could not give him one without raising more awkward questions about myself. I was silent for some moments while Lenwë continued to look inquisitively at me.
"Is it such a hard question to answer, my friend." He said at last. "All I require of you is one simple word, yes or no. Is that too much to ask of you?"
"Yes." I whispered, "Do not ask me anymore, I cannot and will not answer you."
"Were you or were you not outside the encampment." He persisted. He waited in silence while I thought of my answer.
"Yes." I said at last. "I was." Whispering the last two words, I turned to flee to some semblance of safety but I felt a hand grip me firmly, turning me back around to face the speaker.
"Linneniel, are you mad?" He said, horror sounding in every line of his face. "You could have died!" At this, I could not help but laugh, which only served to confuse him more.
"Died. What a strange word." I murmured to myself. "Yes, I supposed I could have died, in one sense or another. But you need not worry about me, my friend, I suppose I could have done more injury to you than to myself." The words of Ulmo came back to me and I felt thoroughly ashamed of what harm I could have caused this dear friend of mine.
"How could you laugh at such a matter, Linneniel?" He asked, mildly offended. "The Eldar do not age as do the Edain, but we can be separated from our hoar just the same. And I doubt that will be a pleasant experience."
"Please, my friend, I did not mean to speak lightly of it." I replied hurriedly, chastising myself for that slip of mouth once again. "It is just such a notion foreign to me. Pray concern yourself no more on my behalf. I promise you I will not try such a venture again." At this I spun on my heels and hurried away before he could speak another word. As I left him standing speechless behind me by the fireside, I thought to myself.
Oh do not worry about me leaving the encampment again, my friend. Someone has seen to that already.
(Glorfindel)
"What say you my friend? Think you we shall make it by nightfall?"
Looking across the white expanse by the northern shore of Lake Mithrim, I saw in the distance the towering halls of Fingolfin, and I wondered out loud to my faithful companion the distance of our journey's end. Presently, my stallion snorted wearily, shaking his white-maned head. For nigh to two weeks we have travelled, flying across the plains of Dor-Lómin with a speed that could have only been achieved by an elven horse. Now, even my elven horse was close to exhaustion, and I, having not slept once during the two weeks of travel, was close to reaching my limit as well. The sight of Fingolfin's halls, twinkling invitingly across the icy lake yestereve, gave me a new hope as I closed in to my place of destination. Even my stallion seems en-heartened by the sight. As if with renewed strength, we raced across the frozen-white land in that last stretch towards our goal.
At mid-day today, we had stopped to rest once beside the frozen white banks of Lake Mithrim. However much we wanted, needed to reach our destination, the fact remains that we were both exhausted to the extreme. I knew if we had kept up the pace, we would have both collapsed with pure exhaustion onto the snow before we could have reached Fingolfin's halls. Now, somewhat more rested and refreshed by the icy cold water from beneath the frozen surface of the lake, we pressed on once more.
xXXx
The clattering of hooves on the cobblestone courtyard seemed like an awakening from a long and perplexing dream, which the past weeks have been like to me. Day after day of non-stop riding, passing by the white snow of the mountains and blinding plains of white, all of which now seems so unreal. And now, finally, I had arrived at my long sought for destination, and yet the twinkling lights of the stone halls before me seemed more of a dream than the one that I had been in. I dismounted in a sort of daze, staring at the enticing lights of the halls all around me, which spoke invitingly of warm fires and hot meals. The voice of a guard who had appeared in the doorway of the courtyard awoke me once again into reality, and as he asked me civilly (though not a little coldly) of my business with the Lord of the Noldor, I recollected of the task Turgon had appointed me to do.
"I wish to see the High King." I said to him, "I have been sent on an urgent errand from my Lord Turgon."
On hearing the one whom I have been sent by, the guard quickly gave a low bow and directed me into the brightly lit halls, a little more courteously than before. As I passed through the great dark oaken doors of the halls of Fingolfin, a wall of heat hit me like a welcoming wave of warm summer sunshine, washing over me. Inside, a roaring fire was burning in a large fireplace, and its heat filled the entire chamber, though its ceilings soared high above me. The guard bid me wait and took his leave, disappearing down one of the numerous hallways leading out of the great chamber.
I was left alone inside the massive chamber of Fingolfin's great hall, the crackling of the burning log in the fireplace was the only sound heard. The sound of the crackling fire echoed throughout the hall, magnified a hundred fold as the sound rebounded off its stone walls. In the same way, the sound echoed in my mind, filling my ears, until it was the only sound I heard.
xXXx
"My lord?"
The voice of the guard once again awoke me to reality. I did not notice I had closed my eyes until it took a great effort to open them again. It seems that the fatigue had overtaken me at last. I did not know how long it was since I had drifted into sleep, watching the dancing flames in the fireplace. I lifted my head from hard wooden surface of the long wooden table which I had unconsciously laid my head on while sitting on the benches by the fire.
"My lord, the King would see you know."
I rose from my seat, steadying myself with the table, and nodded to the guard.
"Show me the way."
Terribly, terribly sorry for the late update. I had troubles getting the plot moving and it didn't help i was also busy with work as soon as school started. But here it is! It's not much but it is something. Read and review, please?