Chronicle of Ages Book II
From Library of the Randirim
- ~~by Esslar
Contents |
Chapter 5: Of the Rising of the Moon and the Coming of the Noldor
Even as the Teleri host under Thingol marched towards home, something occurred which would ever be beloved of the Eldar. Off in the west a pale, silver light was seen on the horizon and all eyes were drawn to it. Some fretted that some evil or glory may have befallen Valinor, but even as the halls of elves across Beleriand emptied there began to appear a bright disc, like a silver sheen, rising against the stars. This was the first rising of the moon over Arda. Crafted from the last living flower of Telperion and piloted by the Maia Tirion, it was sent as a sign into the sky that the Valar had not wholly forsaken the Children of Iluvatar and many things awoke under its light, both fair and foul. The Sindar there named the moon Ithil and as the army of Thingol returned to the halls of Menegroth there were already many songs of it. Tinnutiri especially loved the moon for in its light he saw the light of the stars, which indeed came from the same source, but hallowed and in greater strength. Many there were then who stood in the yards and open places of Beleriand then and, flush with the joy of victory and safety, watched the full first passing of the moon across the sky.
And after the moon had taken its seventh journey through the sky, there came a new light from the west. This one was even more wondrous and glorious and the living things of Arda found it was too brilliant for their eyes while all the dark things of the world fled from its blaze. It rose in total brilliance across the sky and lit all the world below and the elves named it Anor, though in Westron in later days it is called the Sun. It has been said that even Morgoth himself slunk away into the deepest pits of Angband away from the gaze of Anor, but of the mind of the Dark Lord no mortal might truly know. But while the moon was seen to wax and wane in its flight the sun was ever steady and never varied and always rose in the east and set in the west. By this then was time measured from then on and the Years of the Sun began.
As it happened, shortly after the first rising of the sun came word from Mithlin to the north. A great host of Noldor had returned from beyond the sea and already they had fought with Morgoth's forces and won a great victory. Hope and joy soared throughout Doriath and the thought of nearly all was that their long-sundered kin had returned as a holy host of the Valar to strike forth into Angband and remove the Dark Lord from his power and deliver unto them salvation from his shadow. Many thought as such, as indeed did Tuilinn, though Tinnutiri was unsure. Thingol himself may have been swayed by hope in those days had it not been for the council of Melian. For the Sindar then did not know of Simarils or Faënor or of the slaying of their kin in the city of Tirion. Of the words of the Melian's council none can tell but with her foresight at hand Thingol decreed that none of the Nodlor should pass into Doriath save those who were the children of Finarfin for these were related to him by Olwë.
Angrod was the first of Finarfin's line to pass the Girdle of Melian as he was sent as an ambassador, sent by the sons of of Faënor to see if Thingol would lend his might to their purpose. Tuilinn stood guard behind the throne of the Queen as she heard Angrod plead his case and as Elu Thingol rose and gave his response, "Thus shall you speak for me to those that sent you. In Hithlum the Noldor have leave to dwell, and in the highlands of Dorthonion, and in the lands east of Doriath that are empty and wild; but elsewhere there are many of my people, and I would not have them restrained of their freedom, still less ousted from their homes. Beware therefore how you princes of the West bear yourselves; for I am the Lord of Beleriand, and all who seek to dwell there shall hear my word. Into Doriath none shall come to abide but only such as I call guests, or who seek me in great need." And then Angrod departed as if in wrath and Doriath did not take part in the actions of the Noldor from then on but remained as a gem of heartwood, strong and wholesome at the center of the land.
Some twenty years from the rising of the sun came word from Eithil Ivrin of a great celebration called Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reunion. Conceived by the High King Fingolfin, it was held to re-unite the sundered elves and in this it had some success. Elves from as far as Ossiriand ventured into Mithlin in the far north to partake but of Doriath only two came: Mablung, Captain of Doriath and Daeron, the famed Loremaster. Soon after Finrod and his sister Alatariel came to dwell in Menegroth of guests and both were warmly received as the children of Finarfin. It was marked that Finrod and Thingol would often walk amid the halls and gardens of Menegroth and Finrod was greatly impressed by the magnificence of the halls there. Alatariel was likewise received by the Queen though as the Sindar had difficulty with the language of the Noldor, her name was translated into their tongue as Galadriel. Galadriel would spend much of the age within the bounds of Doriath, for there she found a silver-haired man, indeed the kin of Thingol himself, for whom she had a great love. But of Celeborn and Galadriel other tales will tell more.
Then sixty years from the rising of the sun came the third of the great Battles of Beleriand. The Glorious Battle it was called, or Dagor Aglareb in the tongue of the Sindar. It was said that Morgoth, believing the lords of the Noldor to be lax in their guard, sent forth a great host of orcs from the gates of Angband. The Noldor, however, were prepared and in the east and the west they engaged the forces of Morgoth and, being swift to victory, pursued them even to the gates of Angband and destroyed them one and all.
Chapter 6: Secrets Revealed
A long peace then began in the early days of the Sun and it was known afterwards as the Siege of Angband. For the Noldor arrayed their kingdoms about the south of Angband and thereby closed it shut save to the North where the Dark Lord might at times send his minions forth still in secret. Finarfin was the High King of the Noldor in those days and though he showed no deference to Elu Thingol, who was Overlord of Beleriand, neither did he violate the commands of the Ruler of Doriath and there was a relative peace among elves. In that time there was much mingling again of the Noldor and the Sindar and they learned again of the other. Though as ever much they may converse, the Noldor remained the highest in lore and craft and the Sindar were ever the greatest in song and the ways of wood.
As has been said before, the daughter of Fingolfin, known to the Sindar as Galadriel, resided as a guest for long in the halls of Menegroth and often she would speak with Melian about many things but mostly of Valinor and it's bliss of old. Tuilinn would listen long to these conversations, though she was but a honor guard in such company, and marvel at the wonder of Valmar and Tirion and the Ring of Doom. But it was marked that Galadriel would never speak of the time between the death of the Trees and the arrival of the Noldor in Beleriand, but she fell silent instead. And in time Melian replied "There is some woe that lies upon you and your kin. That I can see in you, but all else is hidden from me; for by no vision or thought can I perceive anything that passed or passes in the West: a shadow lies over all the land of Aman, and reaches far out over the sea. Why will not tell me more?"
"For that woe is past, and I would take what joy is here left, untroubled by memory. And maybe there is woe enough yet to come, though still hope may seem bright."
Melian's gaze then held that of Galadriel and she said "I believe not that the Noldor came forth as messengers of the Valar, as was said at first: not though they came in the very hour of our need. For they speak never of the Valar, nor have their high lords brought any message to Thingol, whether from Manwë, or Ulmo, or ever from Olwë the King's brother, and his own folk that went over the sea. For what cause, Galadriel, were the high people of the Noldor driven forth as exiles from Aman? Or what evil lies on the sons of Fëanor that they are so haughty and so fell? Do I not strike near to the truth?"
"Near, save that we were not driven forth, but came of our own will, and against that of the Valar. And through great peril and in despite of the Valar for this purpose we came: to take vengeance upon Morgoth, and regain what he stole." And then the golden-haired Galadriel spoke of three great gems made by the hands of the great Fëanor at the height of his skill and they were known as Simarils. These Morgoth had coveted and whilst the land of Valinor was at feast he had swept into Valmar and struck down the Trees themselves. Then he had gone to the abode of Fëanor in Formentos and there he slew King Finwë, who had been Thingol's closest friend before they were parted by the sea, and he stole away with the Simarils.
"Now much you tell me, yet more I perceive. A darkness you would cast over the long road from Tirion, but I see evil there, which Thingol should learn for his guidance."
And with heavy words, Galadriel replied "Maybe, but not of me." and Melian spoke no more of this matter with her.
Leaving the chamber however she went to Thingol and told all she had heard of the Silmarils and their theft. "This is a great matter. Greater indeed than the Noldor themselves understand; for the Light of Aman and the fate of Arda lie locked now in these things, the work of Fëanor who is gone. They shall not be recovered, I foretell, by any power of the Eldar; and the world shall be broken in battles that are to come, ere they are wrested from Morgoth. See now! Fëanor they have slain, and many another, as I guess; but first of all deaths they have brought and yet shall bring was Finwë your friend. Morgoth slew him, ere he fled from Aman."
At this tidings Thingol grew grim and foreboding but as Melian awaited he, in time, said "Now at last I understand the coming of the Noldor out of the West, at which I wondered much before. Not to our aid did they come, save by chance; for those that remain in Middle-earth the Valar will leave to their own devices, until the uttermost need. For vengeance and redress of their loss the Noldor came. Yet all the more sure shall they be as allies against Morgoth, with whom it is not now to be thought that they shall ever make treaty."
"Truly for these causes they came," Melian replied, "but for others also. Beware of the sons of Fëanor! The shadow of the wrath of the Valar lies upon them; and they have done evil, I perceive, both in Aman and to their own kin. A grief but lulled to sleep lies between the princes of the Noldor."
"What is that to me? Of Fëanor I have heard but report, which makes him great indeed. Of his sons I hear little to my pleasure; yet they are likely to prove the deadliest foes of our foe."
"Their swords and their counsels shall have two edges." And Melian would say no more on the matter though Tuilinn grew concerned in her heart of the world beyond the Girdle.
It was few years afterwards that a messenger arrived from Cirdan to the south, relaying word of rumors of evil done by the Noldor in their flight. Such rumor angered Thingol and he called for the sons of Finarfin who were again guests in Menegroth visiting with their sister. When they came he spoke in anger to his friend Finrod saying "Ill have you done to me, kinsman, to conceal so great matters from me. For now I have learned of all the deeds of the Noldor."
And Finrod answered "What ill have I done you, lord? Or what evil deed have the Noldor done in your realm to grieve you? Neither against your kingship nor against any of your people have they thought evil or done evil."
The chamber grew chill and Tuilinn, who stood dutifully behind the throne of the Queen, near felt a shiver run down her spine at the King's words. "I marvel at you, son of Eärwen, that you would come to the board of your kinsman thus red-handed from the slaying of your mother's kin, and yet say naught in defense, nor yet seek any pardon!"
The chamber was silent and Thingol's words seemed to echo in the void of that silence. Then Angrod, one of Finrod's brothers, stepped forth and cried "Lord, I know not what lies you have heard, nor whence; but we came not red-handed. Guiltless we came forth, save maybe of folly, to listen to the words of fell Fëanor and become as if besotted with wine, and as briefly. No evil did we do on our road, but suffered ourselves great wrong; and forgave it. For this we are named tale-bearers to you and treasonable to the Noldor: untruly as you know, for we have of our loyalty been silent before your, and thus earned your anger. But now these charges are no longer to be born, and the truth you shall know." And then Angrod spoke hotly of the matters of the Kin-slaying, whereby Fëanor demanded of the Teleri their glorious swanships and when the kin of the Sindar would not permit their use Fëanor raided the harbors of Tirion and took them by force and blood. And he spoke too of Fingolfin and his people's journey north through the Grinding Ice, for they would not partake in the Kin-slaying, and of the burning of the ships at Fëanor's hand and also of the Doom of Mandos. And finally he cried "Wherefore should we that endured the Grinding Ice bear the name of kinslayers and traitors?"
"Yet the shadow of Mandos lies on you also" said Melian, and her calm voice cooled the chamber of some of it's hotness, though it made the words no less dire.
Thingol was long silent before he spoke but when he did he waved off the sons of Finarfin. "Go now! For my heart is hot within me. Later you may return, if you will; for I will not shut my doors for ever against you, my kindred, that were ensnared in an evil that you did not aid. With Fingolfin and his people I will keep friendship, for they have bitterly atoned for such ill as they did. And in our hatred of the Power that wrought all this woe our griefs shall be lost. But hear my words! Never again in my ears shall be heard the tongue of those who slew my kin in Alqualondë! Nor in all my realm shall it be openly spoke, while my power endures. All the Sindar shall hear my command that shall neither speak with the tongue of the Noldor nor answer to it. and all such as use it shall be held as slayers of kin and betrayers of kin unrepentant!" And it was so and the language Quenya was from then on seldom used commonly anywhere in Beleriand and only the lords of the Noldor would speak it openly among each other.
Things were then silent for many years afterwards, in Doriath though not in other places, and three hundred and ten years from the first rising of the son came word to Menegroth of new travelers who had come over Ered Luin. These had been found first by none other than Finrod and were known to the elves as Atani, or the Second People, though of the first three tribes to enter into Beleriand were known as Edain, the Elf-friends. The long-expected Men had finally arrived from the East to the joy and dismay of many. Thingol however took the news gravely on his throne and he pronounced heavily "Into Doriath shall no Man come while my realm lasts, not even those of the house of Bëor who serve Finrod the beloved."
And though Melian sat silent at that time, later Tuilinn overheard her say to Galadriel "Now the world runs on swiftly to great tidings. And one of the Men, even of Bëor's house, shall indeed come, and the Girdle of Melian shall not restrain him, for doom greater than my power shall send him; and the songs that shall spring from that coming shall endure when all of Middle-earth is changed."
Chapter 7: Beren and Lúthien
Heavy was the mood as Lúthien lead the mortal before the throne. As a member of the Ainitirith Tuilinn had spent much time with the only child of King Thingol and Queen Melian but of late the woman had seemed to be of a fay mood. When Daeron told the court of her walks with the man who had somehow broken his way into Doriath the King was wroth, and justly so. None before had peirced the Girdle against his will, yet this man had done so. Lúthien would not permit the man to be brought forth until her father swore that he would be neither killed nor imprisoned and then she had interceded the guards sent to claim the man and brought him forth as though an honored guest. It was clear that the man was awed by the splendor of Menegroth, and well he should have been for none of his kin before him had ever set eyes upon there.
From where Tuilinn stood guard she could not see the King's face, but she could hear the anger in his voice. "Who are you," he said, "that come hither as a thief, and unbidden dare approach my throne."
The man was silent and so was the Queen, though Tuilinn could sense that much weighed on her mind. When it was clear the man would not speak, Lúthien spoke for him. "He is Beren son of Barahir, lord of Men, mighty foe of Morgoth, the tale of whose deeds is become a song even among the Elves."
"Let Beren speak!" proclaimed the King. "What would you here, unhappy mortal, and for what cause have you left your own land to enter this, which is forbidden to such as you? Can you show reason why my power should not be laid on you in heavy punishment for your insolence and folly?"
And Beren looked first into the eyes of Lúthien and then it seemed that he looked to the Queen and found the strength to speak there. "My fate, O King, led me hither, through perils such as few even of the Elves would dare. And here I have found what I sought not indeed, but finding I would possess for ever. For it is above all gold and silver, and beyond all jewels. Neither rock, nor steel, nor the fires of Morgoth, nor all the powers of the Elf-kingdoms, shall keep from the treasure that I desire. For Lúthien your daughter is the fairest of all the Children of the World."
A heavy silence swept into the hall and all believed the man's words had earned him his death. The King, in time, spoke again. "Death you have earned with these words; and death you should find suddenly, had I not sworn an oath in haste; of which I repent, baseborn mortal, who in the realm of Morgoth has learned to creep in secret as his spies and thralls."
And Beren replied: "Death you can give me earned or unearned; but the names I will not take from you of baseborn, nor spy, nor thrall. By the ring of Felagund, that he gave to Barahir my father on the battlefield of the North, my house has not earned such names from any Elf, be he king or no." And all looked and saw the ring of his heritage, twin serpents whose eyes were emerald entwined while one held aloft a crown of golden flowers and the other devoured it.
The Queen then leaned close to the King and even though Tuilinn stood at her shoulder, she did not hear the words. When she was done, the King looked at his daughter for several moments; taking secret council with his own heart, both wise and proud. "I see the ring, son of Barahir, and I perceive that you are proud, and deem yourself mighty. But a father's deeds, even had his service been rendered to me, avail not to win the daughter of Thingol and Melian. See now! I too desire a treasure that is withheld. For rock and steel and the fires of Morgoth keep the jewel that I would possess against all the powers of the Elf-kingdoms. Yet I hear you say that bonds such as these do not daunt you. Go your way therefore! Bring to me in your hand a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown; and then, if she will, Lúthien may set her hand in yours. Then you shall have my jewel; and though the fate of Arda lie within the Silmarils, yet you shall hold me generous."
And it was perceived by those in council that Thingol had, in his wisdom, saved his oath and still proclaim death for the man Beren. For the Silmarils were kept in the iron crown atop Morgoth's brow, deep in the pits of Angband. All the forces of the Noldor had assailed those walls for an age and earned not even a glimpse of the gems which held the last light of Valinor. But Beren laughed, deep and hearty and it seemed queer to the Elves that a mortal should respond so to such doom. "For little price," he boasted, "do Elven-kings sell their daughters: for gems, and things made by craft. But if this be your will, Thingol, I will perform it. And when we meet again my hand shall hold a Silmaril from the Iron Crown; for you have not looked the last upon Beren son of Barahir." And then he looked once more to the Queen, bid farewell to Lúthien, bowed to the throne and departed.
Only then did the Queen speak and her words bore a heavy weight. "O King, you have devised cunning counsel. But if my eyes have not lost their sight, it is ill for you, whether Beren fail in his errand, or achieve it. For you have doomed either your daughter, or yourself. And now is Doriath drawn within the fate of a mightier realm."
"I sell not to Elves or Men those whom I love and cherish above all treasure. And if there were hope or fear that Beren should come ever back alive to Menegroth, he should not have looked again upon the light of heaven, though I had sworn it." But Lúthien stood alone in the midst of the chamber, and Tuilinn saw great sorrow in her countenance, and never again was her song heard in the halls of that kingdom.
In the days after Beren's departure, Lúthien was as a shell who wandered the halls of Menegroth and Tuilinn found she felt sorrow for the princess. In her mind she conceived of life without her mate Tinnutiri and found her own heart feeling hollow. It was fortunate that the Captain was returned from the northern marshes and she was able to seek comfort in her lover's company. Lúthien, being deprived of such, turned instead to her mother the Queen.
It is said that this is how she learned of Beren's bondage in Tol-in-Gaurhoth by Sauron. She then sought aid from Daeron, who being himself desiring the Princess, sought to dissuade her purpose by betraying it to Thingol. The King, seeking to restrain his daughter but unwilling to deprive her of the stars, caused a house to be built for her high in the mighty tree Hirilorn and there he put a guard about her to keep her safe from harm and secure from departure. But Lúthien did not long abide her cage and her guards were found one morn, slumbering as they stood and the tree-house was empty.
The adventures of Beren and Lúthien then passed out of the knowing of Doriath for a time and are only fully recorded in the Lay of Leithian. Daeron, famed minstrel and master of lore, cried woe of her departure and wandered far and wide seeking her but never again returned to Doriath. The King sought the counsel of Melian but she withheld her thoughts, saying instead that the doom of his words would work to its appointed end. Yet in time messengers came in secret from the Noldorin prince Celegorm who claimed that he held Lúthien in Nargothrond and would have her hand and also that Beren and Finrod Felagund were dead. And the King being wrathful sent spies to Nargothrond, and Tinnutiri was among them, and from them he learned that Lúthien had fled from those caves and that Celegorm and his brother Curufin had been cast out from that place.
The King thought then to send messengers to the land of Himring in the north to call on the aid of the Noldor to search for his daughter. For Celegorm had not returned Lúthien to her father nor had he kept her in safety. But of those messengers only Chief Captain Mablung escaped and returned to Menegroth. There he told of a great beast; a ravenous wolf that laid all before it to waste and could not be impeded by wit or arms. And this wolf they named Carcharoth, the Red Maw, and its story is also told in the Lay of Leithian.
Even as Mablung stood before Thingol word came from the west of the return of Beren and Lúthien; alive and triumphant. And as the pair traversed the Hidden Kingdom they gathered followers so that they arrived at the gates of Menegroth with a great host. There Beren lead Lúthien before the throne and the King looked on him with awe but no love for all believed he had perished. And there Beren knelt before him and proclaimed "I return according to my word. I am come now to claim my own."
Thingol answered: "What of your quest, and of your vow?"
"It is fulfilled. Even now a Silmaril is in my hand."
"Show it to me!" At the King's command, Beren put forth his left hand and slowly opened his fingers but his palm was empty. And then he raised his right arm and all then saw that his hand there was severed at the wrist and he named himself Camlost, the Empty-handed. Thingol's wrath was soothed then and he sat Beren before him to the left and Lúthien to his right and he had from them the story of their quest. All were filled with amazement over the deeds of Beren and Lúthien and at the last Thingol conceded that this man must be unlike any other mortal man and yielded his will. There, before the throne, Beren then took the hand of Lúthien.
But the joy of Doriath was stained by a shadow of fear from the north. For now that all knew that a Silmaril sat in the belly of Carcharoth they fled before him and the most dreadful wolf of all history came unhindered into Doriath. Then was prepared the Hunting of the Wolf, the most perilous of all pursuits of any beast. In the morning went Beren the Empty-handed, Huan the Hound of Valinor, Mablung of the Heavy Hand, Beleg Strongbow, and King Thingol of Doriath and they passed over the river Esgalduin and left Menegroth and their loves behind.
Of the Hunt the Lay of Leithian also tells but on it's victory was bitterly bought, for the Hunters returned with the bodies of Huan and Beren on bier of branches. There Lúthien spoke with her mortal love as he passed and bid him to await her beyond the Western Sea. From then on, if Lúthien had been a shell before then she was a void at Beren's passing, and all of Doriath mourned with her. The King fell into a winter, likened by minstrels to the hoar age of mortals, at the grief of his daughter and the knowing that she too would pass. And it was not long before Lúthien Tinúviel's spirit fled her body and sought the Halls of Mandos.
In the Lay of Leithan it is told that Lúthien sought and achieved an audience with the valar Námo, keeper of the Halls of Mandos and there she sang before him a song more beautiful and sorrowful than any ever or since heard by mortal or immortal. In it Lúthien wove the themes of the grief of Men and the sorrow of the Eldar and Mandos, who had never before nor since done so, was moved to pity. He sought counsel with his brother Manwë and the Lord of the Valar counseled with Ilúvatar and learned of his will. Then Manwë gave to Lúthien a choice: She might be released from the Halls of Mandos to spend eternity in the bliss of Valinor but without Beren, for even the Valar could not withhold Death from Men, or she might be returned to Arda with Beren to live out a second life as a mortal. And it is this doom that she choose and so it was that alone of Men did Beren return to live again and alone of Eldar did Lúthien truly die; though their lineage lives on in the lines of men and elves.
Menegroth learned of all these when Lúthien returned to them, in mortal form, and passing through the halls came to Thingol and cured his winter with a touch of her hand. But Melian looked in her eyes and saw the doom that was foretold there and she looked away, overcome with grief. In time, Tuilinn would know why, for now Lúthien would die as mortal men die and so be parted for all time from Ainur and Eldar.
When Lúthien left those Halls, she and Beren headed south into the land of the Silvan in Ossiriand and dwelt there in Tol Galen. Afterwards that place was called Dor Firn-i-Guinar, Land of the Dead that Live, but never again would Beren speak with mortals nor Lúthien dance amongst the trees of Region.
Chapter 8: The March of the Ainitirith
And so it happened that five years from the Hunt of the Wolf, Beleg Strongbow discovered a small party of men along the borders of Doriath. Two aged men were there and in their care was a tall young boy, whom they named as Túrin, Son of Húrin the Steadfast. For this was also the year of Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, and the exploits of Húrin at the side of King Fingon in that terrible engagement would be sung of for many an age. Morwen, wife of Húrin and mother of Túrin, had sent the boy in the hopes that he would find shelter there; for Dor-lomin had fallen to wild-men and was no longer safe for free peoples. Beleg then lead Túrin and his caretakers into Menegroth and there he presented the boy before the Throne. King Thingol, who's thought of the Elf-friends had changed since the Quest of the Silmaril, there astounded all by taking the boy on his knee and announcing that Túrin would be his own adopted son, less Húrin emerge from shadow and claim him as his own again.
From then on Túrin grew strong and fair in Doriath and he was well-loved by many. In his ninth year in Doriath, fearful for his Mother who remained in Dor-lómin, Túrin requested of Thingol and was granted arms and armor, and went north to the marshes. There he became a companion in arms to Beleg and the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin and the Strongbow of Doriath struck terror in the hearts of orcs in those years. Tinnutiri also went to the north, for he would not remain idle as he had during Nirnaeth Arnoediad. There he took part in the many glorious victories of the March-wardens of Doriath in those years.
Three years did Beleg and Túrin together bring safety to Doriath's northern borders and in that time it was said to be as though the Siege of Angband had been renewed. And then, when Túrin chanced to have returned to Menegroth, the Curse of Morgoth worked upon his fate. For Saeros, a Silvan elf of some respect, had grievance with Túrin and through cruel twists did Saeros' death occur as a result. While the act was witnessed by Mablung of the Heavy Hand, few understood Túrin's innocence at the time and when their questions pricked his pride the mortal man flew forth from Doriath.
It is said that it was with a heavy heart that Thingol sat in judgment over Túrin for the death of Saeros, yet when the testimony of all was heard it was revealed that Saeros had been the aggressor. Túrin was then and there cleared of any and all charges and Thingol wished him to return to Doriath once more. So Beleg, who was his friend and companion, went forth eagerly to find the estranged noble of men.
There are many stories from then on of Túrin, who gained many other names in the years to come, and of Beleg and they are recounted in full in Narn i Hîn Húrin which is the longest lay from this age. In this manner was the northern march deprived of its two greatest defenders at a once, and though the other Captains of Doriath and their march-wardens fought ever valiantly, the forces of Angband pressed southward ever further.
It was soon afterward that a messenger came from the marshlands bearing fell news before the court. The forces of Angband had pushed into lands the land of Dimbar and in the absence of Beleg Strongbow, other Captains of the march-wardens had risen up to lead raids against them. One such raid was lead by none other but Tinnutiri and it had ended in tragedy as the raid was captured before it could reach its quarry. Tuilinn stepped forward from her post at the sounding of her love's name but a nod from Melian stilled her tongue.
The King sat on his throne of stone, ever grim as he heard the names of those who might never return to the Halls of Menegroth. For only two purposes did orcs take captives: to delight in the pleasure of pain and torture to a slower death or as slaves to work the mines of Angband. When the list was concluded the King spoke his decree. "The northern marsh is weakened by the absence of Beleg and Túrin. It is a sore loss, for there are none to do their purpose in the marsh, nor none to return those doomed to the dark pits to these Halls." At his words Tuilinn felt torn, for she would not violate her duty but neither would she forsake her love.
"My King," the Queen spoke ever clearly, with the light of the Ainur about her and with wisdom guiding her tongue, "Of the Defense of the Marshland I would not counsel you, but of the matter of those who have been taken, there are warriors among us who might yet be charged with their return."
"Who might perform this duty when all are already charged to tasks?"
"The Ainitirith." The chamber stood silent for a moment as Tuilinn felt a slimmer of hope return to her borne on the wings of the Queen's own words. "I feel you would say that their purpose is mine own guard, and of this you would speak truly, but the Queen can not be held secure while the Kingdom she rules suffers the incriminations of the foul. The Ainitirith are twelve in number but they have none of them left the bounds of this realm since it's founding. Their great worth would be better known, and heeded, should they themselves be known beyond our chambers."
"Then let nine of the twelve go forth and, if they can, return with those have been taken; but one further charge will I lay upon them: that they themselves must return for I will not suffer for the security of the Queen to be weakened, even for such a cause."
And so it was that the twelve were called before the Queen, resplendent in armor of indigo lined with crimson and nine were asked to step forward for this task. When all twelve did so, the Queen named three to remain and appointed the others to ride for with all haste.
Forth rode the Ainitirith and Tuilinn rode at their head, for her heart was strongest in this matter and all knew of the peril of Tinnutiri. Long they rode to the north along the river Sirion and none waylaid them for they were nine, strong, and clad in great girdment. In time they came to Dimbar, an empty land that was now the domain of the orcs and there they came to the aid of a band of march-wardens. The wardens were pressed by a company of orcs bearing the mark of Angband, but as the nine joined the ranks of the wardens the orcs turned and fled. The women warriors were thereafter well-received amongst the wardens and of them they learned much of the land ahead and of the habits of the Enemy there.
This lore would serve them well as they fought their way through Dimbar, for the way was not easy and even though orcs ran before their blades there were many battles they fought which are told of fully in the Lay of Ainitirithnor. The Charge of the Goddess Guard would be sung of long after as they carved a swath through Dimbar and came again to the great river Sirion. This they followed north once more, passing in time between the mountains to west and east and beyond the ruin of Tol-in-Gaurhoth where Beren had been captured and freed by Lúthien. Further on they rode, never slowing in their haste to overtake their quarry. In this way they came to the southern borders of the Fen of Serech. Years before the marsh had been the site of great battles and wars. The Battle Beneath the Stars had been fought here centuries before, when Celegorm had driven the Enemy's host into the waters. And only twelves years gone had the Battle of Unnumbered Tears waged into the marsh, where Húrin had sacrificed his freedom and Huor his life for the sake of Turgon. But none of these things mattered to Tuilinn, for her heart knew only one desire, and drawing so close to the plains of Angfauglith she feared ever more that it would prove futile.
But fate would not prove so unkind to the noble guard and two days after entering the Fen they came upon their quarry. The battle that ensued was fierce and bloody, for the orcs numbered many but the Ainitirith were mighty and emboldened by victories. Moving as one they broke through the orc camp until they came to the cages and bound and stripped captives laying on the cold, damp ground. Two turned to freeing the captives while the rest held off the orc's counterattack. Tinnutiri was not among them but hearkening over the clash of elven steel and Angband iron, Tuilinn heard the call of her love. While the freed and the guards secured themselves against the next wave, Tuilinn darted forth, heeding the calls of her sisters. Her sparkling blade, slim and light but capable of being wielded with both hands for great strength and speed, bore her through the ranks to the abode of the orc's captain. There she found Tinnutiri bound cruely and bearing the marks of his mistreatment. A great orc cheiftain stood over his fallen form and in a fey anger she charged forth, heedless of all else. The orc captain faltered beneath her fury but a slick stone turned her foot and Tuilinn stumbled in her assault. For a moment her guard was dropped and the orc made as to strike. It was then that she opened her mouth and from her lips came a high and clear note. Far purer than any scream but sharp and piericing, the sound sliced through the fen cutting out the clash of melee and all of the Enemy who heard it winced in anguish and many then ran. Afterwards Tuilinn would also be known as Maeglind, the Sharp Song. In that moment she raised her sword and struck down the orc chieftain and soon after the rest of their band were routed.
And so it was that the March of the Ainitirith returned in victory and the song and story of their venture was as a great, glimmering of glory before the darkness that was to befall their land. Tinnutiri was returned to Menegroth where he was returned to health, but the cruel keeping of the orcs had cost him his left eye. Over the empty pit was placed a leather patch on which was set a silver star. Thereafter he was known as Gilhend, the Star Eye.
Chapter 9: The Toll of a High Doom
Despite the loss of his eye, Gilhend Tinnutiri recovered his health swiftly in the manner of the eldar and was soon hearty once more. Yet rather than return to the front lines he conceded to Tuilinn's wish and remained in Menegroth, at least for a time. And it was shortly there after that Tuilinn found herself with child. The son of Tinnutiri and Tuilinn was born in the summer of the following year and Tinnutiri named him Limlaer for he brought both light and song back into their lives in those dark years. Possessed of a mother's foresight, Tuilinn privately named her child Harthadur for she knew that he would bring hope with him and she saw fire in his eyes even in his earliest youth.
Limlear grew swiftly in body, as the elves measure such things, and it was soon apparent that his height would someday match his parents. Though he had dark hair like his mother it was toned with the grey of his father to the color of smoke and his eyes were close to his mother's vibrant violet. With the birth of their child Tinnutiri and Tuilinn again new joy and hope within the halls of Mennegroth.
This was how neither took part in the events that spelled the doom of their kingdom, though even immortals of such age may not turn such a high doom as was to befall. Neither was present when Húrin was brought before Thingol's throne where he tossed the Nauglamír in anger. Nor did they hear Queen Melian's words which lifted the veil of shadow from Húrin's eyes, freeing him from the curse of Morgoth. They paid little heed when a great company of dwarves came to reside in their own halls and labor on some grand work, for this was not uncommon. Tinnutiri had little cause to note the King's habit of venturing to the Naugrim chambers beyond it's novelty for they were lost in the joy of the life they had created and heedless of the events around them.
And then came a dark and terrible day they would each recall till the ending of the world. The word swept through the caves and chambers of Mennegroth swifter than wind and none who hearkened to it were not bewildered at it. The King of Menegroth, Elu Thingol, once known as Elwë Singollo in the dawn of Arda, lay dead in the deep halls of his own kingdom; unjustly slain at the hands of dwarves from Nogrod. In the wrath of the Sindar, Mennegroth was emptied of spears as every warrior of Doriath pursued the dwarven company and laid them to waste.
The Nauglamír was then delivered to the Queen and even in their grief all were dazzled by it's beauty. For amid the endless crystals and gems of the Nauglamír was set the perfect Silmaril which had been retrieved by Beren and Lúthien in their first lifetimes. But Melian took no joy in it's sight; with the spirit of Thingol fled to the Halls of Mandos she could know nothing but sorrow in Arda. For a long time she sat beside his broken body in silence until she herself began to fade away. When she finally spoke it was only to Mablung, the last Chief-Captain of Doriath and she bid him to heed the Silmaril and to send word to Beren and Lúthien in Ossiriand. And then she faded from the mortal world, never to return.
With her departure so too was the Girdle destroyed and all of Doriath laid bare to the malice and shadow surrounding it. So it was that a great host of Naugrim, girded for war, came to seek vengeance for the death of their company and passed unheeded to the great bridge before Menegroth. So began the Sack of Doriath, one of the great sorrows of the first age for many elves and dwarves fell that day and the Thousand Caves were littered with carnage. The elves were bewildered with the sorrow of their loss and the dwarves were fired by lust for the Silmaril and they ransacked and pillaged the treasuries of the King. There Mablung of the Heavy Hand stood his last guard before the vault which held the Nauglamír until he was struck down by Firebeard axes.
Tinnutiri had again donned armor, shield, and spear and gone forth to battle. He fought with others of the march wardens but their efforts were purposeless as they were unable to marshal with other parties. Yet Tuilinn gathered together many elf-maids and children, including Limlaer, and she set them into a chamber with only one portal and guarded the doorway with another of the Ainitirith and a porter. Such was the fierceness of their defense that a pile of dwarven corpses soon blocked the portal and none more came upon them till the dwarves had fled again.
After the battle it was Tinnutiri himself who toppled the bastion of the fallen and rejoined his family. They took comfort in each other's company but surrounded by the forms of the fallen the world seemed dark and dim. In a short time, by the reckoning of the Eldar, came word that Beren had left Ossiriand with a host of Green-elves and beset the dwarves as they tried to cross Sarn Athrad and there they slew a great many of the raiders. Beren himself it was who slew the lord of that place and reclaimed the Nauglamír. Those who survived their onslaught were destroyed by the Onodrim so that none ever returned to the halls of Nogrod. The treasure of Menegroth was scattered into the river but the Nauglamír Beren brought to his beloved. It was said that while Lúthien wore the Nauglamír the area of Tol Galen was as bright and fruitful as Aman itself, yet there was no light that could shine in the depths of Mennegroth.
Chapter 10: An End to Song
This day had begun like many before it for the March-warden known now as Gilhend. He had risen from his bed beside his love, seen to his son, and gone to see to his duties for the morning. It was three years now since Dior the Fair, the only child of Beren and Lúthien, had come to live in Menegroth and his birthright as Elu Thingol's heir. With him had come his wife, Nimloth, and three children: the brothers Eluréd and Elurín and a young daughter named Elwing. While Gilhend was seeing to the instruction and training of those who would one day be march-wardens, he knew his wife would be seeing to her duties as a guard for the princess Elwing. In the absence of Queen Melian and Lúthien the Ainitirith had shifted their charges to Nimloth and her daughter. Meanwhile Limlaer had grown strong and proud and in a few more decades he would have the privilege of training his own son in the way of spear and shield and sword.
The scars of the Sack of Doriath could still be seen marring the corridors of his home. Chips of stone carved from corners and walls by an errant blow. A conspicuous dark stain on the stone that no tender could clean. But worse of all was the emptiness of the halls. Once Menegroth had thrived, but now the halls were echoingly empty. The time since Eluchir's arrival to the throne had been peaceful, but a visit from a herald of Maedhros had reminded them of the Sons of Fëanor and their thrice be-damned Oath. The Sons were demanding the forfeiture of the Silmaril held aloft now in the Nauglamír, but Dior would not forsake it. For Gilhend knew some part of his King's mind, as much as was known by many in his court, and the King would not suffer to see the great accomplishment of his parents delivered under threat to those who had caused so much sorrow. There were many yet who still remembered the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. And for his part, Gilhend agreed with his young King.
The training that day was as uneventful as such tasks might be expected to be. His son had entered the chamber at a time and watched the wardens at practice with their spears, but he was as of yet still too young to join them. Gilhend was proud of him all the same, and knew he would be all the more proud when his son received his shield. Near midday, as was his custom, he broke from his duties and joined his wife and son on the lawn where they would eat a small meal and discuss the minor events of their day. On this day the child-princess Elwing, barely yet of age to walk, had danced about her chambers and expounded her nurse, a kindly woman named Evranin, with tales of what it would be like to soar in the sky. As had been the King's custom on occasion the Nauglamir had been left in the care of his youngest and often she fancied to remove it from her coffer and gaze at it, though her shoulders were yet too small to bare the glorious carconet. When the meal was concluded, Limlaer was sent to his leisure and the two ancient warriors returned to their duties in the court; Maeglind to Elwing's chamber and Gilhend to the company of the throne, should his services be required there.
So it was that he was among the first to learn of the army that was nearly before the great bridge. A great host of Noldorin, girded as if for war and flying the emblems of the Sons of Fëanor. Gilhend took this as ill, for he had little love for the progeny of Fëanor. Yet others overroad his voice and the voices of others that urged caution and said that this might merely be a show of force, meant to intimidate the young King into giving up the jewel. And so the hall was not secured, or effort made to ready for siege.
Alas, they soon found it that to be ill. For the Noldorin did not linger on the bridge but they winded their horns and charged forth, breaking down the great doors and pouring into the halls. They cared not for innocence for they killed all in their path as they spread through the Thousand Caves. The King's guards surrounded him dutifully and Gilhend would have remained to lend his spear to their cause, but his heart pulled him elsewhere and an order from the King sped him onward. During the Sacking his wife had sheltered their son from the butchery of the invaders, but he had no cause to think that she held him now.
When he came through the door of the chamber he found himself facing three of the women in the indigo and crimson armor and each had a weapon drawn. "What is the clamor? Have the Naugrim returned?" Gilhend looked about the room, full of the playthings of a small girl and then back at his wife. "Nay, 'tis the Sons who have assaulted our halls. They have taken the Gate and come forth amongst the halls. The Eluchir orders his children and the Nauglamir to be removed from danger. You are to take them and any who you may safely escort and flee to the Sirion till the battle is over."
Maeglind's gauntlet jumped out and grasped his arm as he turned to leave. "Limlaer?" Gilhend did not need the ages of familiarity to see the concern in his wife's eyes but he was forced to shake his head. "I know not, but I will find him, and he will be made safe. Go as you are able and we will follow as we can." And then he turned and left them to see to their duties.
As yet these halls, which were far from the Gate and deep within Menegroth, were free of attackers and many hidden ways had been made to leave the city. He passed many fleeing towards such exits, and yet paid them little heed. There would be little cause for so few of the Sindar to fight against so many of the Noldor. So he swept through the halls, bearing his arms and the spear that would spark in the shadows.
And after what seemed an indeterminable eternity he found his son.
Limlaer had returned to the training hall and there he and the students had armed themselves with their training weapons. Gilhend did not chastise them for their foolhardy gallantry but wasted no time in directing them into the hallway and towards the safest exit he believed remaining to them. Valiant thought they may have been they would not stand against the seasoned troops of the Noldor.
The first scout fell upon them as they fled through the halls but soon fell as the Lightning-Spear slid through his golden armor and toppled him to the floor. Gilhend gave the dying corpse a solemn glance then as the others passed. In all the immeasurable time of his life it was the first time he had killed another of the Eldar. A scout would soon be followed though and while Gilhend urged the youths to speed they were unable to show the haste of trained soldiers. It was not long before the sound of heavy boots was heard behind them. Gilhind grabbed the shoulder of his eldest student, nearly a man grown, "Legoeryn, take them from here with all the speed you can manage, I care not how."
"Will you not come with us, Captain?"
"If I am able, but you must flee. Take the others and go!" The youth nodded and turned to see to his task marshaling the others despite their protests. He could hear Limlaer's voice calling after him but he shut it out as he turned to face his own task. Four of the Noldorin soldiers, each wearing the markings of Celegorm, were rapidly closing on them. Gilhend brought his spear to bear and slapped it's butt against the floor sending sparks floating into the air. "I AM GILHEND, CAPTAIN OF DORIATH! BEGONE!" The first the Noldorin saw of him was the jewel over his empty eye sparkling in the shadows and this gave them halt. Slowly they approached and saw before them but a man, armed for field and short an eye. Then they saw little reason for caution as they came forward again until the lightning-spear flashed through the fore-guard's throat.
The soldier behind his fallen companion bore a great mace and brought it down heavily on Gilhend's shield. The wood creaked in the strain and would have shattered if not for the steel about it. Though Gilhend's spear was fast his counter-blow was parried and the mace swung round again, crashing into him and sending him downward.
When next the warden opened his eye he saw his son holding his lightning-spear against three men twice his height. Legoeryn was running towards them but the danger was immediate. So ignoring the rib that was loosened in his chest Gilhend rose up and grappled with the closest soldier. He was aware of Legoeryn darting around them and sweeping Limlear onto his shoulder and making off again, though the rescue had cost him a wound on his arm. Limlear's shouts echoed through the halls and then Gilhend knew what he must do. He threw his opponent to the ground and faced the other two with naught but his shield. "Turn back if you value your lives, I care not, but you shall not pass!"
A swordsman stepped forward, swinging wide with his blade but Gilhend's determination was strong. His shield came down on the soldier's foot, pinning it, as he caught the blow on his shield and launched his fist over the shield's rim. Something pierced his own leg but he was heedless as he continued to disarm the swordsman and push the stolen sword through the soldier's armor. As he turned his vision was again filled with a mace sweeping to meet him. This time the shield did crack beneath it's bulk and Gilhend threw it in the face of his second adversary as he swung the sword, sweeping off the mace-man's arm and smashing the pommel into the face-guard.
Then there was but one assailant left as the two clashed swords bitterly. Gilhend was a more seasoned warrior but the wounds slowed him now and it was only by his refusal to fall for the sake of his son that saw the other warrior topple at Gilhend's feet. But the warden's wounds were mortal and now quickened by the battle. He managed only a few steps before he too fell to the floor. With his last sight he gazed upon a painting on the wall of a bird flying amongst the stars and he thought of his love and left the world.
So ended Tinnutiri Gilhend, husband to Tuilinn Maeglind, father of Limlaer, and Captain-Warden of Doriath who's life had begun by the shores of Cuiviénen and ended in the deep places of Menegroth.
