Chapter 15 – Echoes of Elbereth

'Can you not sleep?' came a soft voice from the shadows behind him. It tore so suddenly through his deep, silent thoughts, that Carnil raised his head in sudden alarm, staring wildly into the gloom.

'Pardon me, I did not mean to startle you.' Two dark blue eyes twinkled icily in the chill moonlight with the radiance of diamonds. Elmarië. Carnil was unsure why he had been so shocked to hear the sound of her voice, for she spoke so softly, almost soothingly.

'It matters not,' he whispered. 'Yet you also are wakeful, Lady. Is there something amiss?' Elmarië drew a little closer to him.

'I am troubled,' she murmured. 'For though I desire to return home indeed, almost I dare not, for the fear of what may await me there.'

'Will you not say more of what caused you to leave Doriath?' Carnil asked softly, not looking her in the eye. As the words passed his lips, he realised suddenly that he didn't want to know, and hoped she would decline to speak of her troubles. He had not the strength left to adopt the sorrows of another.

'I can recount my tale,' she said mysteriously. 'Yet you must vow to make my secret your own.'

'You have my word that I shall tell no soul, living or dead,' he answered steadily, his heart sinking.

'I have told you already that I was almost slain,' she said, her voice ringing with sudden raw sorrow. 'Yet I did not tell you by whom.' She bowed her head for an instant and paused. It seemed to Carnil that she trembled.

'I do not demand that you tell me of this, Lady!' He exclaimed, backing away from her a little without even realising. 'And if you do not wish to speak of yourself then you may not.' She shook her head, and their eyes suddenly met. He almost flinched from the bright beauty of her gaze.

'For weeks I have told my secret only to the empty darkness!' She moaned. 'And the burden of my grief is so heavy that I feel I shall break, and die. You must aid me!'

'Hush,' he whispered. 'Or you shall wake the others!' He paused, and she looked at him pleadingly until he resumed: 'All the aid I have, I shall give you.' He said quietly, wondering doubtfully what she desired of him.

'Then I will tell you my tale,' she said, pushing her black windswept hair from her eyes. 'It begins in Doriath.' He nodded, and listened in silence as she recounted her tale in her soft, breathy voice.

'My kin live in the forest of Region, scarce a league distant from the caves of Menegroth, the abode of King Thingol. I myself have dwelt there all my life, and I was content for long years. I believed that my life would remain so forever, and yet it appears to have been fated otherwise. When I came of Age, several months ago, a huntsmen named Culdir sought my hand in marriage. I refused, for I scarely knew him, and loved him not at all. Yet my father had other plans. Culdir comes from a wealthy family, and is deemed respectable by all. And if nothing else, I think father wanted rid of me. I have three young sisters, and a brother, and father clearly desired to shift the burden onto another's shoulders! Yet my heart was decided, and I did not wish to wed Culdir. When he learned of what had befallen, my father's wrath was great, and he gave me no choice other than to obey him. Against my will, I was betrothed to Culdir. For weeks I dwelt in misery, desiring only to be free to follow my heart. Each night I wept bitterly beneath the stars, and said a silent prayer to Elbereth, begging to be somehow rescued from my plight. Yet no answer came, and the time of my wedding drew close.

Upon the very Eve of the marriage, I sat in silent thought as dusk fell heavily about me. I dreaded the approach of dawn, and what it would bring to me. In the time that had passed I had become acquainted with my betrothed, and had come to love him even less, if that were possible. For he is rude and uncaring, thinking of none but himself. His servants he treats with contempt, and were I to become his wife, then I doubt not I should be counted among them. His arrogance is scarce to be believed, and in truth he deserves no wife! I could see no escape from my doom, yet I vowed to shed no more tears on his account. I lay then upon the soft grass, my eyes meeting with the stars, and I said my final prayer to Elbereth. I begged no longer for one to come and rescue me, or for my father to reconsider his choice, or even for Culdir to change his ways. I prayed for death, the only freedom that lay within my reach. Slowly, I fell into a deep sleep, desiring never again to wake.

Of a sudden, the stars seemed to burst with shimmering light about me, and I thought for a moment that my wish had been granted, and that I beheld the radiance of Valinor beyond the misted Seas of this world. I heard a voice within my head, the like of which I have never heard before, or since. If ever the stars of heaven could speak, then such a voice would they use. It was soft as a breath of wind, and as beautiful as the frozen heavens, yet was powerful enough to rend my spirit from this world and cast me into the Void, if it so wished. Yet it merely spoke to me, and I saw many things of which I will speak to none. Concerning my plight, it bade me only to follow my heart. I opened my eyes, and the voice was gone. I found that the night was still young, and scarcely a few minutes had passed, though it seemed to me that the Voice had held me in its grasp for years beyond count. I thought that perhaps it had been a dream, and yet as the night sky burned so bright above me I felt in my heart that I had indeed recieved a gift from Elbereth, Lady of the Stars.

'I was afraid no more, and I went in search of Culdir. When I found him, I said naught of the voice which had visited me, yet I made it clear that I would not wed him. He was outraged, for though he could not claim me as his own, my words to him had not been kind. I strode from his house, planning to leave Doriath that very night. At dawn my father would surely learn of my deeds, and by that time I had to be gone. I had travelled some way into the forest, yet I found myself unable to go any further. I could not abandon my family in such a manner, without bidding them farewell, or leaving behind any sign or token. The thought came to me that I would leave them a letter. I had no notion of what to write, yet at the least they would have had them know that my decision to leave was not without regret. My father I would not miss, yet my mother, who's only fault is her weakness of will, I simply could not abandon with no word of explanation. My sisters also I care for, and my brother I love best of all. I turned, and made my way homeward for the final time. The world was still cloaked in shadow, yet the hours before dawn approached, and I knew that I must be swift.

'When I reached my home, father was waiting for me. He knew of what I had done - evidently Culdir had sent a him a messenger - and such a look was upon his face that I froze in terror, unable to move. Yet the light of Elbereth burned within me, and I would not give in. He beat me, as he had not since my childhood, and I fell to my knees before him. Yet I refused to consent to marry Culdir. At last, he drew his sword, and set it upon my throat. I beheld the blade glint in the first light of dawn, and felt it's bitter touch against my skin. I wondered for an instant if my prayer for death was being granted. Yet at that moment I heard a voice calling my name. It echoed through the darkness of the house. It was my brother, Imcair. My father told him to leave us be, but when Imcair saw what had transpired he was furious indeed, seeing that father was assailed by some madness. He strode forth, and his sword rang sharply as he drew it. Father took the blade from my throat, and pushed me aside. Imcair would listen to no word father said, for he was deafened by his own rage. I was largely unhurt, save for bruises, and I felt the hot blood trickle down my neck where the blade had pierced the skin, yet father had done me no permanent harm. I saw Imcair try to wrest the sword from my father's grasp, yet I beheld no more, for I fled from the house ere they had a chance to stop me.

I left my home, and I ran, and did not stop. I saw the dawn grow on the horizon, and I sped into it heedless of any peril. I threw myself desperately into the new day, and I tore deeper into the forest flying swift as the wind, until at great length my legs gave way beneath me, and my consciousness faded. When I awoke, I was in a place I had never been before. The trees were tall and huge in girth, and the light of heaven could barely be seen through the twisted branches above me. I recognised nothing, and it seemed that I was far from home. I was frightened, and yet I remembered the voice of Elbereth bidding me to follow my heart. I had no desire to return and face the wrath of my kin! And so I left.'

She fell silent, and looked at Carnil pleadingly, her eyes brimming with tears. She seemed so frail and forlorn, her full lips trembling as the tears began to streak her alabaster face. Carnil felt a sudden desire to cradle the girl in his arms, yet he did not.

'Why do you now return to Doriath?' He asked quietly, after a moment of silence.

'I despise living in the wild!' She wailed. 'I am not made for such an existence, and I have begun to think that even were I forced to wed Culdir, my life should not be so terrible as it is now. Am I truly reduced to this - the life of any common vagabond?'

'Would you trade your freedom for the comforts of home?' He asked incredulously.

'I count it not freedom,' she exclaimed bitterly, 'to wander the empty lands alone. I am alone, more so than ever, and though I do not believe that I should be any more content in Doriath, I could at least dwell there in comfort. I would not expect you to understand. I, however, am accustomed to finer living than this '

'You are strange to me, Lady.' Carnil sighed, his brow furrowing. Elmarië shrugged, then looked up into his face, smiling faintly.

'It is even as Elbereth told me.' She murmured distantly. Carnil cast her an inquiring glance, yet she said no more. She leaned lightly forward, and kissed his cheek. The touch of her lips was soft and delicate as cloud-vapour, yet he flinched involuntarily.

'Do not be afraid.' She whispered, eyeing him innocently.

'Good night.' He said abruptly. He turned from her, and lay down beside Tinuial.

Within minutes, Carnil lay sleeping, and Elmarië could hear his soft breathing. She wept silently in the darkness, a constant stream of tears coursing down her flawless cheeks like a ceaseless rain. Through the mist of her sorrow, she suddenly noticed two sharp eyes regarding her coldly. She started. It was Thaliondil. She knew not how long he had been watching her, yet she feared that he had seen what had befallen moments before between she and Carnil. Thaliondil's face was bathed in shadow, yet his grey eyes glimmered like moonlit ice. He drew himself angrily to his feet and glared down at Elmarië where she knelt.

'It is rude to stare.' She said faintly, though her words carried no conviction. Her sorrow left her somehow listless and deflated, unable to muster any venom, even for Thaliondil to whom she was harbouring a swiftly growing dislike.

'I care not!' he growled, drawing closer until he stood barely a pace distant from her. 'Yet my sister I do care for! Do not destroy her happiness.'

'I wish her no harm!' Elmarië said weakly. She fixed Thaliondil with her most imploring gaze, staring up into his thunderous face from beneath her wet eyelashes. 'I beg your forgiveness, if I have done ill - such was never my intent. I am merely so alone - so alone...' She cringed to imagine how pathetic she must appear, on her knees and weeping before him. Yet surely he would take pity on her, now, so vulnerable and repentant, so stunningly beautiful - for Elmarië was indeed aware of her own loveliness; how could she possibly be otherwise? From birth it had been her one defining feature; her one weapon; her one advantage. Heaven knows no one had ever taken the time or trouble to appreciate any other attributes she may or may not have possessed.

Thaliondil's face was unreadable. The moonlight lent his strong, fine features an aspect of hollowness, accentuating the sorrow graven indelibly into the taut lines of his visage, and teeming coldly in his acute grey eyes. He was beautiful, she thought suddenly - for a moment he appeared more beautiful than any fair dream or vision she had ever beheld. She reached out and caught his hand suddenly, clasping his slender fingers tightly in her own. Without a moment's hesitation he drew his hand disdainfully from her grasp, glaring at her with a rage Elmarie found incomprehensible - what could she possibly have done to incur such dreadful wrath?

'Stay away from Carnil, and from me, you vile whore,' he said harshly, impervious to her tears. 'The sooner we are rid of you, the better.' He turned away from her, his face hard and grave, and retreated into the shadows. Elmarië knelt where she was, motionless, struck dumb, almost blind with humiliation. There was a thunder within her - a fury so great she was rooted to the spot, as though crystallized in one frozen moment of the purest agony. She would shed no more tears this night, for the well of her sorrow had run dry, and in its place now stood a vast and seething rage. In any case, she would shed no tears at all for the sake of Thaliondil. She gritted her teeth, and glared furiously into the darkness. Now she had a focus for her hatred, and she resolved then and there to despise him, all her life long.