Beren followed Tínuviel with his eyes, ignoring the bitter sting of salt as it dug into the cuts of his hands. The mermaid moved gracefully around, her white scales glowing faintly under the ghostly light of the moon, her tail curling as they went deeper in the bay. The outline of the trees took the irregular, dark shape Beren had first seen when coming to the island, and here the sand fell into a gentle slope, forcing the sailor to keep his head high above the cold, unforgiving water.
Soon Beren was almost standing on his toes, stretching to stay out of the water, tiny waves breaking against his cheeks. Tínuviel turned toward him, perfectly at ease among the dark cover of the sea. Beren felt the scales of her tail brushing past his legs, rough and soft at the same time, and was again awed by the wonders and numerous miracles he was about to discover.
"Beren," Tínuviel whispered, the accent of her language meddling with the waves around them.
She held his hands firmly, and Beren closed his fingers around hers, feeling the need to reassure her. He could tell by the nervousness of her gaze that she was about to accomplish something very difficult.
"I need you to look at me and sing exactly what I am going to sing. You must never look away."
Beren only nodded. Tínuviel swam closer to him, and they stood alone for a few moments, uninterrupted. Tínuviel closed her eyes, recalling the precise words of the song. She had never performed it, yet she knew that one mistake would be fatal to the fragile human body Beren had. The perspective of failing terrified her, but she had no time and no choice left. She opened her eyes, and, very slowly, let her voice come to life. She knew not to speed the process, to force magic to come. She felt her chest and her vocal chords vibrating, very timidly at first, then the sound grew in strength, rolling in her whole being, before engulfing the both of them. The feeling of Beren's soft skin in her palms reassured her. The touch helped her to anchor herself in the present moment, not to get carried away as the song, wild and impulsive, escaped her lips. Beren's own voice joined hers, and the song quieted a little as they sang like they had done during their first meeting.
Beren felt at peace as he gazed at Tínuviel's blue eyes. Her iris were of a kind, welcoming color, somewhat as shifting as the blue of the rippling sea, unlike the silver-bluish ones of the merman. They had looked so faded, so dull to Beren, similar to gems having lost their shine. The sailor now felt pity upon recalling that image, and wondered once more what could have provoked such hostility toward him.
Tínuviel's gaze helped him to stay focused as the song rumbled in the silence of the bay. Beren didn't understand its words nor its meanings, and the syllables felt rough and fierce in his mouth. They impatiently fled in the night like wild horses, and Beren struggled to imitate the special touch Tínuviel's accent gave to the incomprehensible lyrics. She was singing faster and faster, her eyes focused on Beren's, and the first wave of pain hit him as she broke into a particularly difficult verse. The pain crystallized in his belly, curdling his blood, yet Beren kept singing the alien words that poured out of his mouth. Tínuviel's hands were closed tightly on his, and her eyes expressed nothing but encouragement as she swam closer to him. The proximity of her warm voice soothed him, and he carried on despite the burning irritation of his throat, adding itself to the pain progressively numbing his arms and his legs. The melody made no sense to him, and was devoid of any possible beauty; it was raw and strange, and sounded almost blasphemous through Tínuviel's delicate voice. The song only increased in strength as his body weakened. The numbing sensation had gone to his legs, where Beren realized with horror that he didn't even feel his limbs moving anymore. Water mercilessly splashed his face, and tears streamed on the sailor's face, blurring his vision. The enchantment was reaching its peak, with the sea growing even more agitated around them. The same need to retch came back to Beren, and he desperately clung to Tínuviel, his throat burning with hoarse, ancient words. His voice had lost all its melodic touch; it was now rough, and had no strength anymore. The sailor's legs were completely paralyzed, refusing to respond to Beren's panic. He was slowly sinking now, the sea hungrily licking his face. Darkness crept in Beren's shaking field of view; Tínuviel's eyes had become two distant bluish dots, fading as blackness overtook him.
As Beren was about to pass away, Tínuviel hands' lifted to his shoulders, and she pushed him underwater. The ancient song died out as the sea swallowed them both.
"Beren?"
Beren's eyelids fluttered a bit, before closing again.
"Beren!"
Beren opened his eyes, abruptly jerking as he remembered his panic. His first reflex was to take a deep inspiration, but instead of the rich, earthly air, only water flowed in his mouth. The taste of salt invaded his tongue, and Beren closed his mouth again, astonished. He looked around, and only an endless shade of blue, stretching infinitely before him, greeted his disoriented vision. The sky had disappeared, and there was no ground under his feet anymore, only a deep, dark pit plunging toward blackness. Beren turned around, and saw the gentle slope of sand, away in the distance, falling like an earthly waterfall into the blue.
"Beren?"
Beren turned again. Tínuviel was there, looking hesitantly at him, as if not believing what she was seeing.
"How do you feel?"
Beren didn't respond immediately, completely astonished by her beauty. He had never seen Tínuviel in her natural element before; in the bay she had always been bound, in a small way, to his earthly world. Only her tail clashed with the land he was walking on, but she had looked a normal woman to him. Now, her hair was freely floating around her head, like a dark aureole blossoming in the blue, rippling around her cheeks. Black strands of her reached out to him, and her tail of a magnificent pearly white swirled gracefully as she swam toward him. It seemed to Beren that she flew rather than swim, her body completely free of the earthly laws binding them to the ground. Here she was boundless, and Beren suddenly longed for that freedom. She reminded him of a bird with sparkling feathers, flying in the new liquid sky they were in. Her hair moved about, pulsing like a living being, and she smiled as she stopped in front of him.
"The song," he breathed, looking at her in wonder. "Did it work?"
Tínuviel's worried expression melted, and she burst into a crystalline laughter.
"See for yourself," she said, pointing at his legs.
The sailor looked down, and gasped in both delight and awe. His legs had merged into a mermaid tail, adorned with copper-coloured scales, with slight reflect of gold on his tail fin. Beren ordered it to move, and it moved just as his legs had done, propelling him forward with a powerful movement. Tínuviel laughed even more when she saw his bewildered expression, and Beren smiled too.
"It is a miracle," he whispered as he carefully swam around.
Never had he felt so light in his life. He was akin to a feather floating in the wind, completely weightless and free. The endless blue didn't frighten him anymore. His eyes were growing accustomed to it, and now Beren saw more clearly different shades painting the landscape around him. The surface above was a of a gentle sky-blue, reflecting the color of the earthly sky, while the ocean took a navy coat as it deepened. The pit beneath them had cobalt tones merging with the darkness as light fled from the depths. Beren felt like swimming in a gigantic gem, which broke and remade itself to the whim of the waves.
"Yes," Tínuviel agreed, gently redirecting him when he hesitated. "It really is a miracle."
Beren could tell she was pleased by his interest, but she was also relieved by the success of the song.
"It is beautiful," Beren added, lingering a bit.
He was reluctant to leave the beauty of the sea. Tínuviel nodded, and she took his arm in hers, drawing the sailor's attention to her blue eyes.
"Indeed, but I have other things to show you, and we have no time."
"Where are we going?" Beren asked curiously as she swam forward, taking the lead.
He let himself be guided, still a bit uneasy with the movements of his new body. His tail was much stronger than what he had thought, and Beren felt clumsier, like a newborn still adjusting.
"To my kingdom, Doriath."
Tínuviel took him to the depths of the ocean, toward the dark pit Beren had first glimpsed. Huge rocks, hidden by the thick obscurity, were rising from the sand, forming a dark outline much like the trees of the bay. To Beren they were more similar to teeth ready to bite into whatever came near them, and he slowed, intimidated by their height and the complete silence surrounding them. Beren had liked this silence; it brought so much peace, contrary to all the noises the land could produce, but here it seemed more like an invisible veil resting on those sharp rocks. Tínuviel led him to a large opening in the slope, and there they went into dark rocky corridors, dodging shoals of silvery fish. Beren feared the suffocating obscurity at first, and the narrowness of the corridors was difficult to move in. The walls were covered in yellowish algae, which grazed his scales, their slimy stems sliding against his tail fin. The water was also colder, and he shivered involuntarily as they went deeper in the heart of the underwater mountains. The sea had almost a mineral taste in his mouth and was completely dark, save for a few, pale jellyfish, shining faintly there and there. However, he soon grew accustomed to the darkness, and came to enjoy the feeling of his tail brushing against the rocky surface. The jellyfish were like tiny white stars lost in the sea, guiding them, briefly illuminating their swift figures. Beren was awestruck; each creature they encountered was wholly new to him, from the long, silvery body of a sardine passing by, to the colorful coat of a sea slug lazily crawling in the algae. They were perfect and strange at the same time, and it was with regret that Tínuviel reminded him to go forward. She longed to show her world to him, just as he had done with her, but time was closing in on them. She felt it, and dreaded even more the reaction of her people should they encountered them outside Doriath.
Beren had no notion of distance underwater yet, and couldn't tell just how far they had travelled since his transformation. Time seems to pass as quickly as they swam, with one swift movement of their aquatic bodies. Beren had gotten used to it, and could now move without Tínuviel's guidance. The mermaid assured him her kingdom wasn't far from the island, for just as men loved the sea, her people had a fascination for the unreachable fauna and flora of earth.
"It is also where we are the safest," she added.
"Safe from what?" Beren asked, curious. Tínuviel had never mentioned any threat other than her own kind for now.
Tínuviel told him of past wars and warriors, great defeats and an unspeakable horror done to the land. Waters weren't safe, she said, they were haunted, and only her people were hidden from it now, thanks to the power of her mother. Beren wanted to ask more, but Tínuviel was reluctant to speak. She regretted having to paint such a dark and grim picture of her own world, which Beren had barely seen yet. She trusted she could explain it to him later, so instead she went on about her own people, their traditions, her family.
"We are almost there," Tínuviel said in the dark, a reassuring smile on her lips.
Beren followed with a renewed impatience, when suddenly the tunnel they had been in opened onto a large gap between the rocks. Cliffs rose from either side of them, masking the clear blue of the surface, and Beren stopped, astounded by the sudden changes.
Corals, anemones, seaweeds poured from the top of the cliffs into a waterfall of colors, shielding a dark entrance hidden between the rocks. Beren stared at the swollen heads of the anemones, bending under the current, and the tiny orange and white fish seeking shelter between their smooth branches. Corals as bright as the sun, sea fans unfolding their branches, every plant was new and held such a sense of mystery to him hat Beren barely dared to touch them. Suddenly he noticed slender bodies swimming among the plants, mermaids and mermen akin to Tínuviel. Scales flashed between the luminescent colors, either disappearing in the entrance or exiting it, before swimming higher above the rocks. Mermen flying above the rocky tips, crystallized sunshine shining on their spears. Mermaids bringing back food, rosy seashells. A vague melody twisted out of the entrance, and despite its weak notes Beren felt all the beauty of it, and wished for nothing but to get down and meet Tínuviel's kind.
However, Tínuviel sensed his excitation and firmly held his hands.
"From now on, you must stay with me. Never stray."
Beren nodded. Tínuviel's explanations about her family came back to his mind, and the importance of their presence here cooled his previous impatience. Now his face was grave, and together they swam toward the entrance of Doriath.
The inside of Doriath was unlike anything Beren had ever set eyes upon. The gaping jaw of stone, covered in colorful flowery teeth, unfolded into a huge cavern. Beren stopped, disoriented by the sudden darkness. The blossoming colours outside had disappeared, eaten by the veil of darkness. Absolute, perfect silent greeted them, only broken by the haunting of the vague melody Beren had roseand fell like the waves above them, imprisoned within the walls of stone, melancholic and reflecting. It gave Beren a strange sense of peace but also loneliness, as if he had just been cut from the entire world outside, and had entered a new universe, beautiful but alien. The cavern was impossibly large, with walls rising like ramparts on either side, so far away from each other, that they reminded Beren of the stomach of a monstruous, forgotten sea monster. The blurred ceiling distantly curved in an irregular arch of stone above their tiny figures. Beren felt silent silhouettes swam past them, scales brushing against his arms, current of waters swirling after the passage of a merman. They disappeared quickly into the cavern, unseen and unknown. These were members of an entirely new race, foreign people hostile to his kind, swimming past him, unheeding of his presence. Beren had never felt more like an intruder in his entire life, and he paused, disoriented, intimidated by the height of the cavern, its darkness, its piercing melody. Tínuviel stopped beside him, sensing his fear, and in the half-light her hand closed over his.
"Watch," was all she said.
Beren followed her advice, waiting, watching, feeling all the little current and distortions in the cavern created by the numerous bodies moving about. The melody carried on, seeming engraved in the very walls, and Beren focused on the sense of peace it had given him. Soon he relaxed, and simply enjoyed all the sensations Doriath brought to him. His sight cleared, and Beren realized that the cavern wasn't as dark as he had thought it to be; small dots of light, some clear, some fainter, shone there and there among the rocks, illuminating the walls. His natural fear of the dark retreated as his merman vision adapted itself to the faint luminosity in the cavern. His eyes caught each source of light, clinging to it and amplifying it. Soon tiny details appeared to Beren, and he was appeased. He was merely discovering the abilities his new body had. He turned and saw Tínuviel more clearly, her white scales almost bright in the dim waters, and others mermaids as well. Tínuviel was patiently waiting, a bit anxious, but Beren smiled, indicating he was ready to go. Tínuviel nodded and went on, Beren following closely behind, discovering with wonder entirely new aspects of the cavern.
Every inch of stone had been carved, from the stony floor, the large walls, to the curved ceiling. Each stone, each rock, not one had been left intact, and Beren realized that each piece was telling a story. Ancient myths and history meddled in the stone, rising, falling with the curve of the ground, the abrupt shape of a rock. Warriors ran on the walls, their spears piercing enemies that would forever be still. Trees, very much alike to Beren's world, had spread their branches on the ground, their roots touching the base of the walls. Multiples plants had grown as time went on, giving touch of unexpected colors to the carved painting. Beren looked up, and the giants engraved above looked back, crowned with the luminescent purple corals that had grown between the cracks. Their grave, solemn gaze of stone swept the entire cavern. Their eyes, carved with a profound attention to details, felt so real it seemed the cavern had spread around already present faces. Beren felt suddenly very humbled by their omnipotent presence, and realized that they must be gods. One was a weeping mermaid; a coral had spread into her entire left eye, giving her a strange and faintly glowing purple iris. Her tears were falling along the rest of the ceiling, among aquatic valleys, algae, falling cliffs, crumbling cities. It would have taken a lifetime to read and understand all this one, singular piece of work, and Beren regretted even more their haste. He wanted to know the names of the warriors, the underwater forests, the goddess crying above them, but he followed Tínuviel, and the movements of her tail which reminded him so much of the pulse of a heart.
Life had bloomed in the cavern. Beren noticed it as they progressed, mermen having made their home under boulders, in the walls. Holes, shielded by weaved flowers or algae indicated a home, a shelter, anything where mermaids could find a safe place to stay in. Balconies flooded with sea fans, sea urchins, bubble corals, drooping algae of all types and length poured all along the walls. Families swam by, with children painting sea shells, chasing each other, reaching to the high ceiling, hiding among the sea plants. A mother picking a sea star, a father showing a spear to his son, a daughter pursuing a wandering jellyfish. Hunters came and went by numerous tunnels, dragging the body of strange sea creatures Beren didn't even know the name of. Beren understood that this was but a mere part of Doriath. These tunnels must be leading to even more chambers, carved rooms, stony shelters. The immensity of the kingdom was impossible to measure.
"This is beyond anything I could have imagined," he whispered to Tínuviel.
She smiled, touched by his words and proud of the admiration her home sparked within him.
"I will show you more," she promised, "when we have time."
Beren nodded. Doriath was beautiful, and he felt awe again when thinking about how lucky he was, a simple man, to lay eyes on it.
Tínuviel's eyes darkened suddenly, and Beren frowned. He noticed the abrupt quietness around them, how the chatter of conversations had died. Numerous mermaids and mermen had stopped in their chores to watch them. Many warmed when catching sight of Tínuviel, swimming toward her in friendly greeting, before immediately stopping when they saw him, a perfect stranger at the side of their princess. Their faces were close, their eyes cold, and they remained where they were. Beren froze, alarmed by the rising hostility, but Tínuviel kept going, her gaze locked ahead of her. Mermen were now following them, keeping a careful distance, with a hostile curiosity showing in their stares.
The melody continuously lulling Doriath was getting closer and closer, until finally Beren glimpsed the singer. He was sitting on a small ledge above, his blue scales a true beacon of light as he sang. His neck and wrists were adorned with rows of cobalt pearls, their colors so profound, as if the whole sea had been locked in their spheric shape. His voice had all the shades similar to the mood of the sea, stormy and calm, passionate and empty. Beren would have stood listening, but he had recognized the singer as being the faded blue-eyed merman. His song had been so cruel, so merciless that Beren had trouble realizing how gentle his notes were right now. An entire public was gathered around him, passionately listening to their minstrel. The merman paused, turning his head, and his smooth face melted into happiness as he saw Tínuviel approaching. With one swift movement of his tail he left his yearning audience and swam toward them, the pearls floating lightly around his skin. However, the smile he had immediately disappeared as he saw Beren, and the merman froze completely, full of incomprehension and anger. Quickly he joined Tínuviel, deliberately ignoring Beren's presence.
"My lady," he hissed at Tínuviel's side, "what is the meaning of this? Why is he here?"
His eyes slid on Beren, and the sailor stood his ground, defying those faded blue irises. They seemed transparent, devoid of life as the merman's lips twisted into a rictus.
Tínuviel didn't answer, only dismissing him with a flick of her tail. The merman's eyes shone with hurt, and he turned away from her.
"The king must know about this," he willfully whispered.
"Enough, Daeron," Tínuviel retorted, but the merman was already gone.
She sighed and began swimming faster. Beren felt worry coming out of her, increasing only as they gained ground.
"We must hurry, before my father knows."
Beren followed. Tínuviel's worry was contaminating, and they swam faster and faster, distancing the crowd of mermaids and mermen behind them. Beren was anxious but also eager to meet the king and queen of Doriath, whom Tínuviel had told him about, and whom he still had trouble picturing.
Finally they reached the end of the cavern. It was much brighter, with bright blue-colored crystals encrusted in the walls giving off a gentle light. Gods rose on the wall, their hands joined above the monarchs' place, their eyes as impressive as the weeping goddess's had been. The throne was a curious mix of black stone and plants, crawling on the carvings, mixing with the cracks and natural crevices of the rocks. Mermaids were already waiting there, floating like colored feathers. All were reunited, and watched as Beren and Tínuviel stopped before the royal throne. A heavy silence rested on the place, reminding Beren more of a place to pray than a royal reunion. All were still, expressionless, no one daring to disturb the solemn atmosphere.
Daeron was there, too, and he was staring pointedly at Beren. The blue pearls reflected the light of the crystal, giving him a supernatural aura, almost the one of an angel. Anger hadn't left the merman's face, but it was more controlled as he announced, with a calm voice, the arrival of the King and Queen of Doriath.
A/N: Next wil be Thingol and Melian's introduction :)