A/N - and here's the second update of the day. Exhausting.
Chapter 17 - The Halls of Menegroth
Dawn slowly bled its molten radiance into the dim sky. As the crimson sun ascended high, the companions drew close to Menegroth. Elmarië was silent, and barely spoke to her companions, save Nurram only, whom she seemed fond of. Tinuial was looking about her in wonder, as the fair light of the growing dawn revealed the land. The trees became increasingly scarce, yet they were exceedingly tall, soaring upwards like almighty pillars of the sky. This land was comparitively densely populated, and the folk of Doriath milled through the trees, going about their daily business. Yet they would halt in their tracks and gape at the sight of Elmarië, murmuring among themselves, for all seemed to know and recognise her.
The voice of the River Esgalduin played upon the edge of hearing, and amid the noise of surging water there seemed to be caught the sweet silvery ring of laughter, distant and fair. Songs of joy and great sorrow mingled into a soaring harmony and drifted lightly upon the fragrant air, whispering tales of a forgotten world beyond the reach of mortal memory. Sunlight danced merrily upon the surface of the bubbling river, and upon the clear eyes and fair faces of the Elves. The company crossed a grand stone bridge, which leapt gracefully across the River. Ere Tinuial could fully gauge her surroundings, they stood before the magnificent stone gates of Menegroth. Guards were placed at either side of the vast doors, clad in soft grey cloaks and shining mail which captured the glint of the rising sun. Alkanto strode purpousefully forward, and spoke a few hushed words to the guard upon the left hand side of the carven doors. The companions passed quickly inside, the guards surveying them silently with thoughful eyes. Dimly lit passages stretched out before them, and when all were inside, Alkanto turned to the others, his solemn grey eyes gleaming with anticipation.
'We are almost at the end of our journey. It seems that the rumour of our approach has preceeded us. We are expected.' He pushed his black hair from his eyes, and drew a deep breath, as though gathering his thoughts.
'We are to be brought before Thingol and Melian?' Asked Carnil. He did not appear to relish the prospect.
'Why, of course.' Nurram answered, smiling widely.
'Come. The Throne of Thingol is not far.' Alkanto exclaimed, and he began striding down a high-ceilinged passage. The others followed him like beings without volition. Tinuial shivered either with fear or excitement - she could not quite discern which. She was almost come to the stronghold of Doriath; the heart of the wondrous Realm of Elu Thingol and Melian the Maia, the tales of whom were part of her childhood memory.
The ways of Menegroth were convoluted and tortuous; baffling to the unfamiliar eye and mind. Halls and chambers floated by like passing dreams; vague, crystalline glimpses of an ethereal, cloud-bourne realm. A glistening wealth of light hung all about, glancing upon the many-coloured floors and illuminating the woven tapestries which hung from the walls like elegantly misted memories, or perhaps faint snatches of things yet to be. Carvings and statues like dim visions of a lost world adorned the walls and lofty ceilings, and strewn all about was a glittering mist of fair pearls and twinkling gems. Nightingales flitted like sunbeams about the majestic halls, and their sweet song seemed to hang, suspended delicately, upon the shivering air. The splendour of Menegroth was too great to be captured in the language of mortals, and nothing could Tinuial afterwards say of her thoughts as she wandered enchanted through a maze of radiance. Yet before she could grasp in her mind all that she saw and felt, her companions halted, and she drew herself to a halt. Before them stood a magnificent, arched doorway, intricately carven and traced with patterns which twisted and snaked upon its smooth surface. The great doors swung soundlessly open, and Tinuial gasped as she beheld the hall within. They were come at last to the Throne of Thingol.
An exquisite hall opened out before them, vast and glorious. The glint of gold and mithril danced all about, and grand pillars soared above them, like mountains leading gracefully towards a star-clad sky. Though many wonders bright and fair lay strewn all about as though they were mere trifles, Tinuial's eyes fell only upon Thingol and Melian, from whence the light came. Alkanto brought them slowly before the towering throne of Thingol, and Tinuial stood there aghast, bewildered by the stunning majesty of the King and Queen.
'O Gracious Lord!' Alkanto cried, and his voice shattered Tinuial's delicate dream. She blinked, and was alert once more; conscious of her situation. She had almost been consumed by fantasy, and the diaphanous visions which flitted around these hall like pale shades of the Undying Lands. Reality hurriedly dawned on her, and she knew that she must keep her wits about her.
'Lady Elmarië hath returned from the shadow!' Alkanto declared.
Thingol nodded silently. He sat upon a high, noble throne, all wrought of shimmering gold and set with blinding argent jewels. Tall he was, like no other Tinuial had ever seen. His countenance was stern and unyielding, as though his very form had been hewn of mountain rock, ancient and austere. Though no sign of age was upon him, wisdom, care and sorrow seemed to vein every sharp contour of his face. His features were beautiful, though cold and grave; with high, barren cheekbones, and eyes deep-set and clear as sparkling pools amid the stony hills of the North. His robes were of a deep, sombre grey, shrouding him in a wreath of twilight. Beside him sat Queen Melian, whose beauty was beyond comprehension. Her eyes blazed avidly, with all the molten fire of a ruinous sunset, and her long, sweeping hair spilled about her ice-white shoulders like strands of liquid silver. She was clad all in unadorned blue, as deep and pure as the noon sky, and from her face poured a white radiance which turned all the world about her to starlit glass.
Thingol turned silently to Elmarië, who stood foremost of the companions. Carnil stood behind her, unable to meet the eyes of the shimmering King and Queen. He regarded the floor instead, as though his life's meaning were written upon its chill, flawless surface. Thaliondil stood in utter silence, gazing steadily at the splendour which stood before him. Thingol's voice was deep as the rumble of thunder, and it echoed about the hall as he spoke.
'Thou hast returned at last, Sister-daughter.' Elmarië looked upon him, and smiled weakly, yet she found no words to say. She bowed her head, raven hair shrouded her face.
'Hast thou naught to tell of thy wanderings?' Thingol demanded. 'Much sorrow didst thou cause! I believed thee to be lost!'
'Forgive me, my Lord!' Elmarië begged, her voice somewhat panic-striken. 'I knew not what evil my deeds would bring!'
'Against the will of thy father and thy kin didst thou depart!' He exclaimed coldly. 'On the very Eve of thy Wedding!'
At these words Tinuial almost cried aloud in surprise, for she alone had known nothing of the tale of Elmarië's departure from Doriath. Elmarië merely shuddered, and fought to prevent the tears from forming in her eyes. Bitterly did she regret any hurt she had caused her kin, Thingol not the least, and yet deeper was her regret of returning. Thingol evidently knew nothing of her father's deeds, or else he would surely have been less reproachful of her. Yet she could not betray this secret. If she were to recount the tale of what had truly befallen on the night of her departure, it would not bode well for her father. He would be banished, she supposed, and that would tear her families' lives apart. She thought of her mother, and of her three young sisters. Any revenge upon her father would demand a heavy price. Silence deepened in the hall, and all eyes were upon Elmarie. She stood there mute and trembling before the magnificent throne of Thingol, her mother's brother, wishing desperately for this moment to end.
'Speak, girl!' Thingol demanded, a little angered by the silence of Elmarië. 'Why didst thou leave? And whither did thy wanderings take you?'
'I know not!' She cried miserably. 'Yet it was not my intention to return thus late. I became lost, and journeyed by strange paths. Little can I tell of them, for I knew not where I was! Lost I would have remained, yet beyond all hope I was aided.' She turned hurriedly, and gestured to where her companions stood. 'These others are named Tinuial, Carnil and Thaliondil. I owe them my life, and I would not be standing now before you, Sire, were it not for these kind folk.' Thingol, overlooking his niece's artful change of the subject, turned his piercing gaze to Tinuial, his eyes burning into her and surveying the innermost thoughts and wishes of her heart. No secret or deceit could she weave about herself, for Thingol, Lord of the Teleri, could be defied by few indeed. Yet he did not regard her for long, and soon his eyes were rooted upon Thaliondil, who held the gaze of the King steadfastly, showing no sign of fear or awe, save that his long pale hands shook like flightless birds at his sides. Last of all, Thingol looked upon Carnil, who would not meet with the King's cold, grey eyes, and sullenly contemplated the immaculate floor at his feet. Elmarië sighed involuntarily, relieved that her uncle's attention had been shifted elsewhere, for a time at least.
'Whence came you, strangers?' Thingol asked thoughtfully. He looked to Carnil for an answer, though when he did not reply, Thaliondil cleared his throat and replied slowly:
'We are wanderers, and have no home.'
'Hast thou naught to say, mortal?' Thingol questioned pointedly, his gaze narrowing as he watched Carnil. 'Declare thyself.'
'My name is Carnil, Sire, as the Lady Elmarië has declared,' he answered stiffly, raising his head a little, though avoiding the penetrating eyes of the King.
'Surely thou hast more to say of thyself,' Thingol urged.
'Naught is there to tell,' Carnil's eyes glinted bright green in the starry glow as he met the gaze of Thingol at last.
'Even of the lowliest person, is there somthing to tell,' came the melodious voice of Melian. Her gaze was perhaps less piercing than Thingol's, her countenance less grim and alarming; yet the light in her eyes was no less potent - and her tone, though soft and mellow, brooked no dissent. 'Falsehood thou hath spoken, in order to conceal thy past, and thy doom. Yet I see more of thee than thou knowest.' Carnil started, and looked helplessly into the conflagration of the Lady's gaze.
'Fear me not,' Melian continued in a gentler tone. 'I wish thee no harm. A shadow lies upon thy heart, yet here you may rest awhile. The darkness which pursues thee has no power here.' And with that she fell silent, closing her fiery eyes and bowing her head. Carnil smiled faintly, yet found no words to say.
'For the safe return of my Kinswoman, I thank you indeed,' Thingol declared slowly, his keen eyes regarding Carnil, Tinuial and Thaliondil. 'Here you may dwell, for as long as you wish.' He turned then to Elmarië. His visage was stern, though not unkind.
'Though I am displeased with thee, sister-daughter, I am thankful indeed for your being restored to us. Return to thy mother and father, for scarcely have I seen them so grieved as when they thought their fair daughter lost.'
'It is a joy like no other, to look upon the land of my home once more!' Elmarië exclaimed, mustering a fairly convincing smile.
Thingol was clearly unsatisfied with Elmarië's account of what had befallen, yet he did not pursue his questions. At last, the King bade them farewell. Tinuial, Thaliondil and Carnil were to reside in Menegroth, and Thingol bade his servants take them to their quarters. Elmarië would of course return to her mother and father, and Nurram had volunteered to escort her home. Tinuial barely realised that she was being led from the hall of Thingol, until she had departed, and the fair light began to fall away.
As Thingol and Melian watched them leave, a heavy silence lay between them. Melian's blazing eyes glimmered, and after a long pause she softly remarked:
'The words of Elmarië are glad, and yet her eyes tell a very different tale.' Thingol lowered his head and remained silent, an unguessable sadness resonating through his icy glance.