In An Age Before – Part 319
Chapter One hundred seventy-seven
The Lords and Ladies of Eriador – The Third Age of the Sun
Helluin had returned to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý towards the end of Girithron of 2799, and after an absence of nine years, her return to the farm was celebrated by animals, Elves, and Men. Indeed, the first to welcome her had been the local wolf pack, the alpha appearing out of some underbrush to confront her on the north south track just ere the stream.
Greetings, bright one, thou hast been long away, he said silently, meeting her eyes as he sat.
Greetings, grey hunter. Thou speak true and I am glad to be back, she replied, having come to a halt facing him. To her eyes, he looked older and…greyer. How hast thou and thy pack fared in my absence?
Quite well, thank thee. The winters have been mild of late and the prey abundant, he said as his mate and a beta appeared at his side and the Noldo caught a glimpse of a delta keeping watch a short ways up the track. We are sixteen now, more than ere the Long Winter, or so our late, late, late eldest¹ once said. Even now at year's end, we have had successful hunts. He offered her a grin, and then gave a short yip. ¹(The alpha's great-grandsire.)
At his call, the other members of the pack melted out of the brush to join him. She marked two yearlings and three pups from the past spring. It brought a smile to her lips and she dipped her head to the alpha's mate, as all the young would be hers.
Winter was mild even in the mountains 'cross the river, she said, but there was war. I wager no Yrch shall come from the west for several lifetimes.
Would that explain the weak scent of smoke a fortnight past? Welcome tidings about the Yrch though, bright one. None have come from the south for many lifetimes now either.
And that is welcome tidings as well, grey hunter. I wager thou smelt the smoke of many bonfires where the Dwarves burnt their slain foes beside the mountains. A fortnight past would be the right time.
The alpha nodded, glad to have an explanation, for the smell had persisted several days and such a large fire might have been a danger.
We shall stay thee no longer, bright one. I am sure thou shalt be glad to be home. Welcome back.
My thanks, grey hunter. Fair weather and good hunting to thee and thy pack, Helluin said as she turned to make her way down the path beside the stream. With a soft rustle of bare branches and the soft crunches of paws on the snow, the wolves melted back into the brush.
The Noldo walked west through the woods, then through the gap in the split rail fence, and before the berry bramble a little further on, she found the fourteen Tatyar gathered and waiting.
"Suilaid, mellyn nín," Helluin said, smiling and offering them a bow of greeting.
A chorus of "Mae govannen, Helluin," and "Mae govannen meldis nín,"greeted her as they gathered 'round.
"'Tis good to see thee safely returned," Arinya said, eliciting nods of agreement.
"We have missed thee and would hear thy tale, but first come home and take food and rest," Ngandáro said. "For now, 'tis enough to know thou shalt be with us for Mettarë."
"I should not miss it for the world, my friends. Has all been well on the farm?"
A circle of smiling faces nodded 'aye' 'round her.
"Some have gone, either by marriage or by Eru's Gift," Castalda said, "but more have joined us by birth and now the Men count a gain of seventeen souls."
"The like holds true for those on four legs or wings," Vorsaira declared. "Of cows the herd has gained a score and six head, of sheep, a score and twelve have joined the fold, whilst the chickens we have counted not save to build a larger coop."
To all these accounts, Helluin nodded in approval.
"What of the horses?" she asked.
"Now that is a curious tale," Nieninque said. "Thrice during the years of thine absence we have been joined by family herds; two from the lands south and one from the north."
"Have they said whyfor they came?" Helluin asked. Wild horses were not rare in the Vale of Anduin, but in years with mild winters, they should not have been at risk or sought safety on the farm.
The Snowflake and the Lark looked to each other and with a nod, 'twas decided 'twixt them that the Lark would answer.
"They claimed that some bands of Yrch had invaded their ranges after crossing the river. At first, these tried to settle, but eventually made their way into the forest. The horses deemed their coming was in flight from some new terror in the Hithaeglir," Lirulin said, a bit uncomfortably.
Helluin groaned, knowing that the Orcs had probably fled her and the Nogothrim as they converged on Moria.
"We granted them sanctuary, of course," Nieninque interjected, "and made it clear they would be free to depart should they desire. So far, they have chosen to remain and some amongst their colts now desire to become warhorses."
To that, the Noldo could but shrug. If there were a few more Yrch in Mirkwood of late, then there would also be a few more steeds for the Riders. She reckoned the Orcs would wind up in Dol Guldur, for the old fortress drew evil to itself as predictably as corpses drew flies. When the time came, she would know where to find them.
"Have ye any further tidings of grave import?" Helluin asked, for some had not spoken yet. The nervous trading of glances and the shifting of feet immediately raised her suspicions. She glanced 'round the circle with narrowed eyes.
"Thou hast a guest," Ngandáro finally said. Helluin raised a brow in question, wondering if t'would prove to be another Raven.
"She claimed she came over the Hithaeglir from Eriador two summers past," Marhrondo said.
And Ránehen muttered, "She was on the farm for three months ere she revealed her presence."
"The mortals still do not mark her,"Sivimaseldo chuckled.
Then Helluin was hastening towards the farm, turning back only to demand, "Where?"
"Your cabin," Erinítaite replied with a shrug, "maybe."
There was only one kindred from Eriador that could so completely obscure their presence. For one of them to have come over the Misty Mountains would be a first…no, a second, Helluin realized, but still well 'nigh without precedent.
She was rounding the hillock when a soft voice at her shoulder caused her to whip round. Hastening along beside her, but having some difficulty in matching her stride, was the elleth Calenvír, a scout of the Laiquendi whom Helluin had first met on Weathertop in 1975. She had revealed to the Noldo the hidden storeroom in the foundation of Amon Sûl wherein Helluin had found her Númenórean steel bow. 'Twas a shock to see her in Norðr-vestandóttir Bý.
"Calenvír? Wha…"
"Mae govannen, Helluin. Must thou proceed as a rabbit chased?"
Helluin stopped dead in her tracks so abruptly that Calenvír overshot her by a pace ere coming to a halt as well. She stood with her head tilted in question, her cloak and hood of mixed greens obscuring all save her face and hands. The Noldo sighed.
"Those were some of the first words that Beinvír said to me after we met on the road outside of Lindon as I hastened bearing warnings to Ost-in-Edhil. I was livid at being dispatched thither by my king after advising that very thing be done a hundred and fifty-six years aforetime, and I had just lost eighty-two years by spending a night in the house of Iarwain Ben-adar."
Calenvír nodded, understanding the significance of those words now. The tale of Helluin and Beinvír was well known to the Green Elves.
"'Tis a common saying amongst our people," the scout explained, "used to chide when one finds another's haste sacrifices their stealth."
"Hurmmmmph," Helluin chaffed. It seemed that even after over four thousand years together there were aspects of Beinvír's Laiquendi culture she knew not. "'Twas a strange conversation to me then. Beinvír feared not to approach a city wherein Sauron lurked, yet feared my friends in Khazad-dûm, believing that Dwarves roasted and ate Elves."
"Do they not?" Calenvír asked, straight faced.
Shocked, Helluin gaped at her. The Green Elf quickly failed at stifling her cackles of mirth and finally Helluin smiled.
"I am just returned, Calenvír. Pray join me in my cabin?"
"I shall join thee shortly, Helluin, but not directly. Thy mortals still have not marked me and I should like to keep it so."
"Whyfor, meldis nín, they shall certainly not roast or eat thee."
The Green Elf regarded her a moment, seeming uncertain, and then admitted, "Because I am not supposed to be here."
And with that, she vanished right before Helluin's eyes, leaving no trace of her presence. The Noldo shook her head and groaned, but then resumed her walk to her cabin. Along the way, she greeted many of the farmers, craftsmen, Riders, horses, cows, sheep, and even a few chickens.
By the time she finally managed to retreat to her cabin, Calenvír had already been there long enough to provide her with both fresh flatbread and reheated soup, along with sliced sausage and cheese, and a salad. The Green Elf rolled her eyes at how long Helluin had taken.
"I let myself in," she said with laughing eyes, just as she had been doing for the past two and a half years.
"Thank the Valar," Helluin muttered as she dug into the food.
After sitting down to a meal for the first time in nine years, Helluin doffed her armor and filled a wooden bathtub, somewhat leaky now for the shrinkage of its staves after being dry for so many years. Following a preliminary scrub and rinse, she sank into the heated waters with a groan of pleasure and remained submerged with only her face above the surface. Calenvír sat at the table regarding the process with a mix of surprise and humor.
"Of course we have all understood that thou wore a suit of armor, but seeing thee without it is as watching a turtle without its shell," she said.
Though the Laiquende's voice sounded strange with her ears submerged, Helluin asked in reply, "Hast thou ever returned a turtle to its shell?"
"Nay, I have not, nor snails, nor oysters, nor seeds," Calenvír said, completely serious.
Eventually, the water grew chill and Helluin stepped out, dried herself, and dressed in a clean shift. The tub stood beside the pantry wall, and Helluin removed a low board that revealed a trough leading through the wall and into the yard. After pulling out a wooden bung at the bottom of the tub, the water drained outside.
Helluin then sat 'cross from Calenvír at the table before the fire.
"Thou hast come a long way and that is unusual for one of thy kindred," Helluin said. "I hope thy journey was safe, especially in the pass through the mountains."
By the traditions of Calenvír's people, 'twas not as if she could ask directly for an accounting of another. A Green Elf's business was their own. Helluin had seen it done exactly once, in S.A. 2994 when old Tulus had asked after their king's tale of his captivity and liberation from the house of Iarwain Ben-adar. That severe breach of traditional etiquette had only been allowable because of the unprecedented and supernatural threat revealed by Dálindir's tidings. Yet Calenvír had come over the Misty Mountains apurpose and had alluded to being in Norðr-vestandóttir Bý with some covert motive.
The Green Elf sighed, but she nodded and took a deep breath as she prepared to say her rede.
"The way was long and all of it new to my eyes. The views from the High Pass through the mountains were…impressive. 'Twas summer and the weather remained fair, even the storms," she said and grinned at the last. Helluin imagined her grinning in the midst of a thunderstorm in the pass, a situation that would terrify many, and smiled at the thought. "Of foes I found none and bethought myself fortunate at the time. I have learnt since that they were exterminated by the Dwarves coming south to war at Moria." To this, Helluin nodded in agreement.
"In 2894, the Nogothrim began a march south from Gundabad, slaughtering every Orc they could find. I knew it not, though I had been marching north from Methedras doing the same. We met in battle in Nanduhirion towards the start of this month. We deem the surviving Yrch in the Hithaeglir few."
"Then I am in their debt for my safe passage perhaps," Calenvír said, "though perhaps their actions have also bred other consequences less welcome."
The Green Elf sighed, understanding now the cause of many factors unknown aforetime and how they bore of Eriador. Yet she reckoned that offering a bit of background was prudent ere delivering the worst of her tidings.
"'Nigh four centuries have come and gone since thou wast last in Eriador," she said, "and for the most part, the north has been at peace. Lord Círdan presides over the Havens, building ships for those who sail. In Imladris, Lord Elrond rules as his folk defend against threats from the east. As aforetime, we hold Eregion and guard the Pass of Caradhras. Yet of late, trouble increases.
It began early in 2794 when Orc packs began to come down from the mountains. At first, we marked them not, for they entered Eriador through Gundabad or from the mountains above the Ettenmoors. Yet Yrch cannot keep their presence secret, for by nature they are destructive. We learnt of them and began to oppose them there and in the Coldfells as they spread from Hoardale.
As thou know, those lands encompass old Rhudaur and the Rangers soon joined the fight. So too did the sons of Lord Elrond, vigorous persecutors of their mother's tormentors. Many fell to our bows and their blades, yet more and more came.
In 2796, a company of Rangers were ambushed in the Coldfells, and amongst their fallen was their lord, Ivandir II, the four and sixtieth King of Eriador."
Calenvír's words struck the Noldo like a fist. Through a haze of sorrow at that woeful tiding, she asked the first question that came to her.
"Hath Ivandir an heir?" Perhaps there was still hope.
Saddened, the Green Elf shook her head 'nay'.
The latest scion of the House of Balar had fallen, and without an heir, the line of the Kings of Eriador had found its end. And yet…
"What of the First House of the Atani, Calenvír? What of the Heiress of Dúrrél?"
"The current heiress is Morwen, daughter of Híthiel. She is a woman foresighted that counts two score and nine years and has a daughter to carry on her office. The next heiress is Lainiel, the third of that name. She was born in the very year that Ivandir fell."
Then Morwen was forty-six when she birthed her daughter and t'would seem the Dúnedain legacy of Prince Artamir grants her longer life than a pureblooded Adaneth of the First House.
"Then there is hope that the kingship of Eriador may be restored. If this Lainiel bears a son, he shall be an Adan of the First House and a scion of Balar," Helluin said, for the first Lainiel had wed the thirty-fifth King of Eriador and Galor's blood flowed in her veins.
The lines of Dúrrél and Balar had been wrongfully segregated in Beleriand, but intertwined in Eriador with the restoration of the First House. The flaw that had come into the unfolding of the Song when Iarwain had kidnapped Balar son of Balan had been redeemed in the marriage of Lainiel and Galor. Of the line of Dúrrél, some future son would bring about the downfall of Sauron and usher in a new Age of peace. Helluin recalled Iarwain's words of prophecy.
But she of whom the future had sprung,
Last cousin of a stolen son,
Aged neck wrung as by gallows rope,
Her distant daughter shalt bear them Hope.
xxxxxx
Though years and grass grow very long,
And her people pass to weak from strong.
Ancestral lines must rejoin this Age,
Ere sword's reforged and crown's reclaimed.
xxxxxx
Her future son shalt free the sons of all,
And stride to rule from a high stone hall.
A king born to redeem glory past,
And wed like Beren she who is last.
xxxxxx
And so the debt shalt be repaid,
Fall of the Shadow, Dawn of an Age.
Last light of the Elder Days shalt shine,
And time unfold in its proper time.
Of the third Lainiel might come a restored King of Eriador, but only of her or a future daughter could come the true Hope, the king who would bring the prophecy to fulfillment. And now there was only her line to ensure the fall of Sauron and the salvation of Middle Earth. The survival of Lainiel was imperative for the final victory, and yet t'would be a son, not a daughter who would wield the sword reforged and wed like Beren she who is last. T'would be at least another generation.
"Guard her, young Helluin, and see to those who come after as thou can. As thou hast done for the House of Galdor, do thou now for the House of Baragund," Iarwain had charged her in 1461, and now she could not fail.
"I have been too long away," Helluin said.
"The Dúnedain diminish and the people of the kings become fewer with each passing year," Calenvír said. "After the death of Ivandir, Dálindir ordered a cordon of Celenhár where dwells the Lady Morwen. 'Tis commanded by Gwilolrán himself and counts three hundred bows."
"Did he dispatch thee hither?" Helluin asked, but the Green Elf shook her head 'nay'.
"We guard only and are not mustered for war, so he hath not such command over me, to go or to stay. Rather, I took upon myself the bearing of tidings to thee who of old knew Lainiel and Galor, and the struggles of their people best. Whilst on patrol, I heard things, but as I could confirm them not, I was loath to spread rumors in a time of threat."
Helluin nodded, understanding that distractions were undesirable during a campaign, though she was 'nigh ready to begin interrogating the elleth to learn what dire cause had led her out of Eriador and over the mountains. But Calenvír simply forged ahead without need of prompting.
"In the spring of 2798, a party of three dozen Orcs came down Hoardale from the mountains, and these I stalked for over a month," she said. "Being alone, I could do 'naught else. In the days, I listened to their whispered curses of the sun, and in the nights, their whispered plots and desires. They counted not their company and so at times, I even sat amongst them 'round their campfires. The smell of them was hard to endure and slow to pass, yet for all that they love the dark, they check not the depths of shadows, nor seek for peril in every rocky crevice.
During the course of our time together, they revealed that they search for many things, for the will of their old master masters them still. Food and sport they desire as ever; shelter and places safe from the sun they crave, but on his behalf they seek plunder. They seek for mithril and for rings, or a Ring, which they sometimes called Precious."
The danger Calenvír had courted in stalking this company was appalling and her survival was a testament to her discipline, skill, and stealth. Helluin doubted that she could pull off such an infiltration and certainly not at such close quarters for a month.
"Sauron has tasked them to seek for his One Ring," Helluin repeated, "and the Yrch do thus wherever they roam?"
"Aye, and particularly, they seek for his Ring amongst Men," Calenvír said. "T'would seem the tale of Isildur's Bane has come to Sauron's ears, but late and incomplete. Yet to further their search, I deem that Ivandir was slain and many of the Dúnedain besides. Alas, I can prove none of this, for all know how the Yrch are given to lying and are not to be believed."
"And so, save by taking their plunder including mithril and rings, thou hast but thy knowledge gained by ear," the Noldo said, and the Green Elf nodded 'aye'. "Yet I believe thee," Helluin said. "Of old was Sauron a devotee of Aulë the smith and he is still a mighty craftsman at the forge. Aside from its value, mithril is singular in its virtue, but also in its difficulty in forming. Gorthaur is many things and an egotist foremost, and so he would prove himself preeminent, as a smith of mithril as in all else. Were any other to command the Yrch, they might plunder mithril and perhaps rings as well, but they would not willingly give them up."
The Green Elf dipped her head in appreciation of Helluin's faith in her tidings, but now her mission was complete.
"I have been away two and one half years," Calenvír said. "I arrived to find thee absent, and after a season learning 'naught, spoke with the Abdir¹ Ngandáro who informed me that thou had gone to Methedras intent on slaughter. I chose to wait, but having delivered my tidings at last, I shall return home. This farm is nice, for a settlement," she added with a grin, "but I am needed in Eriador and none know I left." She rose to take her leave at once, but Helluin stayed her. ¹(Abdir, Refuser(m) = abo-(v. refuse) + -dir(n. on v. masc. agent sing. suff.) Sindarin equiv. of Quenya Avar)
"A moment, I pray thee, Calenvír," she said. "T'would seem I have been too long from Eriador and now, the future lies in jeopardy. Aforetime I was bidden protect Lainiel, and though this is a different Lainiel, the need of her survival is no less. I shall return with thee, but I should inform those who shall remain behind, for I have just returned."
Calenvír nodded, understanding the tiresome obligations of a settlement and Helluin's position in its society. She deemed it oppressive, but being two rather than one alone would be an advantage to her whilst traveling in strange lands.
"Shall an hour suffice?" she asked, straight faced. Helluin looked out a window at the pitch black of night and groaned.
"Let us depart in the morn. The mortals sleep in the night and I need to take counsel with the captain of the Riders, amongst others."
Calenvír sighed. Helluin's position was yet more constrained by her habitation in a hamlet of Men than she had feared. Somehow, it seemed unseemly for an Elf. Still, after two and a half years away, a half-day more would make little difference. Reluctantly, she nodded 'aye'.
"My thanks, meldis nín. I shall tour the farm to see what changes have been wrought in my absence. Join me?" Helluin asked. Calenvír nodded 'aye', anything to get out of the cabin, for to her eyes, it looked better from the outside.
"Thou shalt don thine armor even for a tour of thy farm, Helluin?" the Green Elf asked.
The Noldo had already put on her fauld, cuirass, greaves, and boots and was attaching her pauldrons.
"I have 'naught else to wear," she said, "and I care not for traipsing 'round in only a shift."
"Perhaps a cloak and thy sword belt if thou feel weapons are warranted?"
Helluin burst out laughing and Calenvír raised a brow in question at her mirth.
"I discarded my last cloak at Methedras. After spending three and a half years battling within a mountain with seven and a half thousand decomposing Yrch, it smelt unwholesome and I could not wash the stench of death from its fabric. Thus passed my last outer garment."
The Green Elf shook her head. Trust a Noldo to relate some dark tale with disgusting details.
"I should thank thee, I suppose," she allowed, "for I would detest smelling such a reek."
Helluin nodded in understanding.
"'Twas quite wretched indeed and I imagine that by comparison, a camp full of living Yrch would seem like the scent of home," she said, straight faced.
They walked the farm 'neath the stars and moon, and whilst the olvar and most of the kelvar rested, a few creatures took the opportunity to offer a welcome home, or air concerns long held. Calenvír, less familiar with domesticated animals on a day-to-day basis found the livestock both charming and peculiar.
In the dimly lit barn, a sleepy milk cow looked up and met their eyes as they entered.
Welcome home, Helluin, if 'tis truly Helluin…and her shadow…huh?
Well met, Beulah. My thanks for thy welcome, Helluin replied.
Aye, aye, and my thanks to thee as well. I am impressed that thou recall me by name. I was but a calf when thou last took thy leave.
Why would I not know thee? Ye have each your unique pattern, as recognizable as the faces of Men or Elves, she said. Beulah battered her eyelashes coquettishly in response.
Thy return is much celebrated, Helluin, and according to the ancient accord, the brew master has proffered a bucket of beer for each of us this eve past. Thou should return more oft.
I shall endeavor to do so, Helluin said. A fair night to thee, Beulah. We leave thee to thy rest.
A fair night to ye, but I am wide-awake, Beulah said sleepily. She closed her eyes as she yawned and dozed off standing upright.
"Does the beer offer some virtue to the cows, Helluin?" Calenvír asked once they were back outside.
"None that I know of save that it keeps them happy to be included in our celebrations," the Noldo replied. "They well 'nigh demanded their ration a few centuries past and it hath become traditional."
"The cows demanded…?"
"The cows, horses, sheep, and chickens, aye," Helluin said.
"But is that not a lot of beer?"
"Perhaps. I have 'naught to do with the distribution. From the first, I told them 'twas 'twixt themselves and the brewer and so it hath remained to this day. Still, we have no shortage of grain or hops and I have heard of no shortages of beer or ale."
They walked past the enclosure wherein the chicken coops stood. A dozen hens lay scattered on the ground, on their sides with wings and legs akimbo, flaccid and sleeping deeply. The Green Elf shook her head at that whilst the Noldo pretended not to notice.
"Never aforetime have I seen chickens passed out drunk," Calenvír finally said.
"'Tis impolite to stare at them in their decrepitude," Helluin said. Some etiquette had developed on the farm for countenancing the inebriated.
"But art thou not tempted to tie their feet together?" the Green Elf asked, straight faced.
The two ellith stared at each other a moment and then the Noldo chuckled and jested, "I shall provide some twine."
After touring the fallow fields, they made their way to the stockade. Calenvír vanished and Helluin informed the night watch that she requested Captain Mearcweard's presence in council at her cabin on the morrow. At the large house 'cross the yard from her cabin, she wrote a note on the chalkboard beside the door calling a council for the second hour after dawn and requesting the heads of the settlement to attend. They returned to Helluin's cabin where the Green Elf recovered her bow and travel bag.
As the stars dimmed and morn drew 'nigh, Calenvír told Helluin, "A mile north upon the track I shall await thee." Helluin nodded to acknowledge her exit.
"'Til next we meet then, meldis nín," Helluin replied. The Laiquende gave her a nod in return and exited the cabin. In a few steps, she had disappeared into the failing darkness.
The council proved a bit contentious. Captain Mearcweard, the blacksmith, the mylnweard, the chief healer, the elected heads of the tradesmen, farmers, herders, and apiarists all decried her sudden decision to journey to Eriador, a land most of them knew 'naught of save its name, and not a day after finally returning.
Representing the Tatyar, Ngandáro and Arinya hearkened but said 'naught. The nine years that Helluin had been gone and however many years she would be gone were no significant part in the tales of their lifetimes. They would see her again. Finally, the Noldo tried to explain the situation in terms the Men could accept.
"In Eriador, a king was slain by foes of late, much as was Helm King in his time," she began, to which she received nods of understanding. "Yet unlike Helm, who had a sister son to take his throne, King Ivandir has only a cousin, the lady of a noble house who may in years to come, bear a son who would then be king."
The caveat in her explanation was, alas, obvious to the Rohirrim of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý.
"In years to come? Is this noble lady yet wed?" the chief apiarist asked.
"Nay, she is not as yet," Helluin hedged, for Lainiel III was now going on four winters old.
"So then, the birth of a new heir to the throne of Eriador may be some time in coming?" Mearcweard asked, to which the Noldo nodded 'aye' and some on the council groaned.
"And then more years after ere he attains his majority," the chief herdsman said.
"Or the noble lady may bear only daughters," said the blacksmith, thinking of his two girls.
They went on a while, their comments growing more pessimistic by the moment. When the chief healer offered, "Or perhaps she shall acquire a flesh-eating infection and pass whilst still a maiden," Helluin groaned and stood. Marking the severity of her expression, the rest paused and hearkened to her.
"The lady comes of a line that I was charged long ago to protect, and that charge came not of Men or Elves," she said. "I pray ye attend me and I shall share. Then ye shall understand."
Though the 'sharing' would have seemed an enchantment or sorcery to any others, those on the farm had known of the process all their lives and this was not the first time Helluin had shown them her memories. Curious as well as concerned, they stared into her eyes. Then all changed.
'Twas night, yet subtly different from any night they had known. In every direction, every detail stood out with unnatural clarity as if they saw with the eyes of Eagles. The stars blazed in an inky sky and there was no moon. They saw a home, unremarkable yet absolutely eldritch. In Helluin's cabin, all those gathered held their breaths in trepidation as the front door opened.
Standing upon the porch of that eerie house was as strange a figure as any of them had ever seen. Short and thick he was, clad in a suit of blue that matched the color of his eyes as they stared hypnotically from his ruddy face. His trunk-like legs were encased to the knees in bright yellow boots and with their hard, heavy soles, he beat a vicious tattoo of dance steps on the floorboards. Scraggly brown hair sizzled from his pate as if struck by lightning, and his matching beard waved in counterpoint to his body as if t'were a living thing with a will of its own.
They realized that Helluin was accompanied by one they knew not, but for the two ellith's benefit the figure offered a wide smile that rendered his visage terrifying rather than friendly. Then, as from some cause of mirth known only to himself, he broke out in laughter that did 'naught to comfort those who had stood watching.
Now some banter passed 'twixt this character and Helluin, but soon enough, he divagated into verse. Ignorant of the lore to which he referred, most of his words conveyed 'naught to the good folk of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý, yet ere the vision ended, he spoke plainly to Helluin, and grave was his charge to her.
Iarwain fell silent and looked deeply into Helluin's eyes. 'Twas not a shred of levity in him.
"Guard her, young Helluin, and see to those who come after as thou can," he said. "As thou hast done for the House of Galdor, do thou now for the House of Baragund."
Helluin blinked, the spell was broken, and the counselors found themselves seated again 'round the table in Helluin's cabin. Into the silence of their bewilderment, Helluin clarified.
"He is Iarwain, eldest, master of the passing of days, and by his will he travels through time," she said. "If he is not numbered amongst the Valar, then he is coeval with them in ancientry and power. I knew him not from Aman, for he cleaves to Ennorath.
In the First Age, he found friends and invited them into his home to share his hospitality. 'Twas 'nigh on five thousand years ere they left. Amongst them was the first King of Eriador, the heir of a father who had ruled and died in Beleriand ere Eärendil rose. His line took up the rule of the Middle Men in Eriador ere Arnor rose in the north and Gondor was founded in the south.
Later, to correct the flaws that came of his trespass, Iarwain brought the last heiress of that ancestral house to the Third Age ere 'twas extinguished from Arda in the First Age. The first heiress of that house in the Third Age wed the thirty-fifth King of Eriador in 1482. Their son followed his father as the six and thirtieth King of Eriador. Their daughter followed her mother as Lady of the First House of the Atani.
And now Ivandir II, the four and sixtieth king has been slain, and only his far cousin, the Lady of the First House, can bear a son to claim his title. Iarwain bid me protect the heiress of the House of Baragund, and so I am called to duty in Eriador. I know not how long I shall be away."
None of them liked it and yet there was 'naught that they could say. How could a Man counsel and Elda to disregard a Vala? One by one and grudgingly, the each nodded to her in acceptance of her intended course.
"We shall hope to see thee again someday, Helluin," the mylnweard said.
"'Til then, we wish thee well and safe upon thy road," added the blacksmith.
"And we hope for thy success in safeguarding this Lady of the First House," the healer said.
"I thank ye one and all, my friends," Helluin said, looking each of them in the eyes as if to recall their faces many decades hence. "Pray be well 'til my return." She would never see any of those mortals again.
After the council disbanded, Helluin gathered her weapons and filled her travel bag with rations. She shouldered her bow and quiver and extinguished the fire in the hearth. After a final check of the premises, she took her leave, closing the door firmly behind her.
The third hour after dawn was growing old when Helluin had walked a mile up the north south track. Rather than seek for Calenvír, she simply stopped and sat down. By then, she had felt the Green Elf trailing her for the past few furlongs. When the elleth drew 'nigh, she rose and gave her a nod as they matched strides.
"They have accepted thy departure?" Calenvír asked.
"Aye, they have, though none were pleased," Helluin replied with a sigh.
"Thou shalt miss them, should thou not return in their lifetimes."
"Aye, I shall," the Noldo said. "'Tis strange, for I have seen so many die, so many friends lost to the passage of the years, and yet, as each is an individual, I feel the loss anew for each."
The Green Elf nodded in acceptance of this.
"I have known fewer than thou, I wager, and yet I marked the passing of those I knew with sorrow that I would meet them no more."
Helluin nodded in agreement with her sentiment. She had felt the same more times than she cared to count.
"I dwelt in Gondolin when Men first came to Beleriand," she told Calenvír, "and those I met during the First Age were few; Húrin and Huor briefly, though Tuor and Eärendil I came to know better at the Mouths of Sirion. Whether in battle or in my absence, I saw none of them die. Indeed, Eärendil we know still lives, and of Tuor, some suspect the same."
"Those of whom thou speak dwelt in the west of Beleriand, whilst those few Atani I knew dwelt in the east. I was born in Ossiriand 'twixt the rivers Brilthor and Duilwen a century ere the first of them came over the Ered Luin¹ and little friendship was there 'twixt their people and mine at the start. Only later did we come to esteem them. ¹(Calenvír was born in or around F.A. 210.)
But the folk of Eglador we had ever esteemed, for of them came shelter and protection and the blessings of Melyanna and Elwë Þindicollo. Of them too came hope to defy Morgoth, for we learnt of the trials and triumph of Lúthien and Beren son of Barahir, and of the great love that grew 'twixt them. For love of this mortal, the princess defeated even Gorthaur, yet as the prize they had taken was finally returned to his hand; he fell silent and clung to life only long enough to bid his beloved farewell, for he had been mortally wounded. Then melancholy fell upon Lúthien as t'were the winter of her fëa and brokenhearted, she too passed from Arda. So we thought the tale had ended in heartbreak and tears, leaving only a jewel that even the king knew he had bought with his daughter's life.
Great is the mercy of the Valar, yet not without cost. Beren and Lúthien were restored, but now both were mortal, and for a while, they dwelt amongst us on Tol Galen amidst Adurant. In the years after they became more widely known to us, enough that when he called for aid, we came. In 503, we destroyed the Host of Nogrod at the Battle of San Athrad. Of all the treasure of Doriath, Beren recovered only the Nauglamír, and for the time whilst Lúthien wore the Silmaril, 'tis said that their home shone as bright as Aman.
Yet 'twas not for long. As that year faded, so to did Lúthien and Beren, and this time, when their fëar passed, they truly went beyond the world as do mortal Men. Then Dálindir bore the Nauglamír to Doriath where their son Dior had taken up his grandfather's throne in Menegroth."
Calenvír fell silent and they walked in that silence together for a long time. They both knew what had come after…the Second Kinslaying and then the Third.
A couple hours ere noon, Helluin finally broke the quiet saying, "I recall the passing of a Man and it was a great surprise to me. Somehow, I had forgotten how swiftly time weighs upon them and I had missed his passing by many years." Calenvír hearkened and with a nod, bid her continue.
"In the year 141 of the Second Age I came from the East Gate of Hadhodrond, having dwelt there for a score years, and into Lindórinand I ventured. There I met the march warden Haldir, his lord King Lenwin, and his queen, the Lady Calenwen. I became a hunter of their realm, but upon a time, I aided a settler who dwelt beyond their borders.
With Berlun son of Brulun, I slaughtered a company of fifty Orcs. A mighty Man was he and with his great double-bladed axe, he laid low many a foe. To destroy the lair whence that company had come, I enlisted the aid of the Gonnhirrim. We had the victory and I came to call him friend.
By then, I had learnt that Berlun was a skin-changer, the first that I had met, and in the years that followed, I met his wife Grinda, and their children, Falla and Brekun. I watch their early years as they quickly grew…and then I became distracted, and whilst exploring the forest of Lindórinand, I let fifty-three years slip away. When I came next, they were long gone." She shook her head in regret and the remembered sorrow now felt afresh shaped her features.
Gone were the barn and the fence, and the cabin had fallen into ruin. Amongst the caved in roof and broken timbers she found no sign of burning or of attack, and yet she discerned that many a year had passed since last anyone had lived within its sagging walls. In what had once been the garden there stood a pair of mounds, and the stones upon them bore runes that she could read only with difficulty.
"Here lies Berlun son of Brulun, gone to his fathers having seen eighty-one winters."
And upon the mound beside it she read, "Here lies Grinda, beloved wife of Berlun, mother of Falla and Brekun." 'Twas Second Age 221.
"They are fragile and swift pass their years in Arda," Helluin finally said.
"And so thou go to honor a Vala's charge and protect a mortal lady," Calenvír replied, and Helluin nodded 'aye'.
"For the third time I shall protect one of that name," she muttered, "And so the debt shall be repaid, Fall of the Shadow, Dawn of an Age. Last light of the Elder Days shall shine, and time unfold in its proper time."
To Be Continued
