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Nan Dungortheb
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She wandered slowly down the broad dim valley between the northern fences of Doriath and the Mountains of Terror. With the company of escorts provided to her by her brother she had done her best to both skirt the borders of the great forest as close as they could manage, and avoid the high mountains on the other side of the valley where dwelt the wicked creatures who were offspring of the Great Spider. But the southern edge of the valley had its own perils, for the enchantments set about the forest were strong and good for the inhabitants within, but any who strayed into them, friend or foe, could be lost in their mazes forever. And so the lady and her company eventually had to steer toward the middle of the valley, drifting dangerously northward as they went. Her companions grew anxious, now and again renewing their plea for her to turn back and make for Hithlum as the king wished, for the dangers in going the way she desired were the greatest in the region. But as always she refused, and pressed them on toward her goal.
Then the clash of enchantments, between the dark and foul mists from the north and shadowy veils from the south, set upon them as a dense fog across the valley plain which had a strange air that bewildered the senses. They became disoriented, and soon found themselves grown too near the Terror Mountains. The lady and her company strove to hold together and push back south toward the marches of Doriath, eventually coming back to the open fields a comforting distance from the forbidding mountains to the north. But they also feared to stray too close to the forest, and they spurred their horses into the broad fields, searching for marks of the land to follow. But the mists grew thicker as they went, and before long they could see no hills or other forms in the distance by which to guide themselves. Soon they even began losing sight of each other. The lady heard some of the escorts calling out, but they sounded distant, and she tried to steer toward them and call out in reply. But it seemed of little use; the more she moved toward their voices the further they would sound, until she could hear them no longer.
At length she came to a place where she found curtains of rock rising up in a series of great walls draping over each other before her, looking nearly sheer cut from the earth by the axes of the gods. They were not unlike the tall mountains that fenced her brother's realm, though not quite so tall nor even as stark were their slopes. They were pale red near the ground, but as her gaze went up their colors gradually shifted to deep grays and browns and then almost black up toward the heights until she could see no further through the mists that hung to the lands and the hills. From the shoulders and crevices grew gangling trees and bushes looking black and gaunt and lifeless, and trickling down the side from an unseen spring high above was a weak water flow tumbling in splashing little falls that fell down over the smooth stone surface into a stream upon the ground that quietly wandered away westward in a curving little ribbon carved into the earth. Looking at it she suddenly realized how thirsty she was, but the water looked ill with pale gray-green hue. The lady had a thought to follow it, for something arose in her to hearken the urging of her guard and heed her brother's guidance and go west after all. But she had come this far, she thought, and by the same stubborn pride as the men of her house had, the determination to find her friends won out. So turning her horse away from the course of the stream she spurred her steed over it and continued on her way.
Looking up as she went along the terrible sight of the dark mountains at her left stirred a foreboding again in her heart. She fought an urge to steer away from the threatening view of their eerie faces, for they offered her only hope to find a way out, and she kept going east up the valley floor skirting close to their feet. Now grown greatly anxious over moving too slowly she kept her horse going at a good trot, but for a long while she saw little to fear but the dreary gloom that clung to these haunted cliffs. As her unease calmed again in the quiet of the shadows at dusk, the lady could not help but feel a thrill at finding herself daring such a treacherous route alone, and relief to be alone at all.
That night passed quietly, though the stars could not pierce through the gloom hanging over the lands. Though she still had encountered no danger and had slowed her pace somewhat, she dared not stop, and kept going through the dark hours till dawn. Day came bleak through the thick mists, but she kept on following the path alongside the mountains as they marched eastward. Every so often the sharp spurs of their feet would jut out into her path, with short little valleys in between them. As she steered her horse around the rocky outcroppings she would spy shining in the diffuse light thick black strands of what looked like rope, swaying limply in the weak morning breezes. Often they hung in a tangled mess from old dead trees, and sometimes higher up was a tidy black web stretched taut between two trunks. Eventually the day was waning toward dusk again, when suddenly movement caught her eye: long slender rods emerging like long fire-blackened bones of a giant's hand from within a cluster of boulders up on the hillside of cascading stone. She gasped, for the creature was not far from her at all, and so duly alarmed she called to her horse softly to run far. The horse having also caught sight of this needed no prodding, and sprang away into the gathering darkness like a sudden wind out of the west.
After such a fright the lady kept her horse at a run through the rest of that night, keeping a watchful eye on the cracks and crevices with an arrow pulled ready to her bowstring. When the sky began to lighten again the horse at last was weary and slowed somewhat, but she kept him going on at a trot, pulling away from the mountain feet as far as she dared go.
Finally morning came. Just as she noticed the weariness and thirst begin to overtake her, she saw that the mists had finally begun to thin. The sun pierced through to the ground around her, and the rolling plains around her lit up fair and glowing in the haze of its rays. In fresh hope she spurred her steed on faster again, seeing that the stark heights on her left were also growing lower and less barren and more green. At around midday the fog at last had cleared, and she could see for a long way. The range of dark threatening mountains suddenly gave way to low hills carpeted in tall bright grass stretching away in the distance. She had passed out of the Valley of Dreadful Death.
