Narn Gil-galad by Earonn

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Chapter 12: To Become a King

 

A/N

Finch: thanks for the encouragement – I've been really unsure if the rapid change of scenes would work. Though – no fault, not criticism this time? To cite a certain Hobbit-author: "I have never known you give me pleasant advice before. As all your unpleasant advice has been good I wonder if this advice is not bad." :D

Vorondis: if the Narn can convincingly fill some of the gaps the Sil left I'll be very pleased. Less pleased I'm about what we (not) get with Gil Galad being Orodreth's son. Perhaps we should start the Orodreth Defenders League ODL...

Nemis: Maeglin "not entirely unexpected"? I wonder what you could mean by that...

*innocent look*

I should be happy when Gondolin is destroyed after all and there's no reason anymore for me to write about elfies whose mention brings me merciless teasing!

What I'm up to with Idril should be clear: begin a nice Mary Sue (you know that Idril used to work also in the collection of the Gondolin Guinness?)!

Celebrimbor blushes for being patted. As you know, he doesn't receive much kindness.

*munches Leckerli*

This is the first chapter I almost completely wrote in English. If you find a difference between the single parts or in comparison to the other chapters, please tell me. Also, of course, if these difference would be for the worse or the better. Thank you!

*opens tin with orc-cookies*

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XII To Become a King

"How do ye of uncouth race dare to demand aught of me, Elu Thingol, Lord of Beleriand, whose life began by the waters of Cuiviénen years uncounted ere the fathers of the stunted people awoke?"

Deep in the caverns of Menegroth the blade of a knife reflected the light of the Silmaril.

Prospering years followed the fell winter of Nargothrond's ruin and for nearly ten years the elves lived almost undisturbed on Balar. Many who were scattered all over the realm by the attack of the orcs arrived now in small groups at the bay and on the isle after they heard that there they would find their king and a new home. And among them were many women of the Sindar who were skilled in growing grain and fruits. Some of them settled at the coast of the bay or not far inland where their fields and orchards were protected by the dunes. This they often did in close neighbourhood to the small villages of Men who concentrated on breeding cattle, so both parties profited by their work.

Soon after their arrival the craftsmen of the Noldor began their work. No one could surpass the pupils of Aulë in talent, and by their labour, filled with love and ambition, they increased the isle's beauty and the life of all. When a pure sand was found in one of the smaller western bays of the island, they began to produce glass of highest quality, and the smiths forged tools and fittings for the ships which withstood the salty waters of the Belegaer much longer.

Likewise the Noldor learned much from the Teleri, crafts they had known but only seldom practised before. Some of them became rope-makers or learned how to weave sails, white as the wings of the gulls. Only a few went out on the Great Sea for fishing, but many of the women found delight in net-making, something the Falathrim registered with astonishment since according to their customs this was mostly done by the men.

On the other hand the Noldor were surprised when they saw the women of the Falathrim take care of all kinds of preserving food, like pickled vegetable, dried meat and fruits and salted fish. For among their people only the queen and the Yavannildi, the Maidens of Yavanna, had a privilege for the making of Lembas, while all other kind of food preparation was domain of the men.

There were several of such differences in the customs of the different tribes. To accept, appreciate and in the end exchange them prepared the elves for future times when they would become the foundation of a great realm.

Sometimes even some dwarves were driven to Balar or sought its safety, but most of them did not stay but left as soon as possible to return to their people. With them, however, they took more than stocks and they left more than skilled works. They took and left a deepened understanding between both races, and never before the Children of Ilúvatar and the Children of Aulë had been as close, not even during the building of Menegroth and Nargothrond. It was, for all the troubles which were to arise between them, the foundation of the friendship between Dwarves and Elves in the Second Age which would find its height in the forges of Eregion.

Protected and led by Círdan and Gil Galad the mixed community of free people from all parts of Beleriand slowly became one folk.

During these years Gil Galad learnt to practise all the things Finrod Felagund and Orodreth had taught him once. And to his own astonishment he was quick and easy in learning, with a strong talent to bind the hearts of his followers.

This, however, surprised only himself. Círdan knew the reason as it was nothing more than the love and obligation the younger elf sincerely felt for all who lived under his care and which they sensed and returned. Little by little also the other people around Balar began to trust him and to follow his words, even the Falathrim.

Gil Galad already had led the elves in war and danger, now he gathered experience in the more unobtrusive art of administration, how to estimate what supplies they would need, how much at which time and where this was to be obtained. Balar traded with Men, dwarves and other elven communities along the coasts and rivers. Many pearls where found at its shores which especially the dwarves loved and esteemed above all other jewels. Their main goods, however, were seafood, fish and salt.

All the while Círdan tried hard to teach his chosen pupil all he knew himself and to support his development. Often he rode with Gil Galad along the shore, told him about the life at the coast and helped him to understand the music of the sea.

He also took the king of Nargothrond with him on many of the sailing trips the Falathrim made, not only for pleasure but for work: for fishing, exploring the shore and setting signs to indicate shoals, or to the small island between Balar and the mainland where hemp and cotton for ropes and sails were cultivated and which therefore was named Tol Faenglîn, Isle of White Gleam. (1)

He taught him to find his way on the endless seas with the help of the star-constellations: Wilwarin the Butterfly flying to the North, Soronúme the Eagle of the West with its bright shining eye-star, Menelmacar the Swordsman of the Sky who strides towards the Last Battle and Valacirca the Sickle of the Valar that always points directly to the North. (2)

He explained how to build a ship or a quay or how to fortify a harbour against the rage of Ossë. Círdan also taught Gil Galad the words the mariners used to appeal Uinen, the Lady of the Seas, who often could calm her spouse's wrath when he rages laughing amidst the storms.

And every time they set sail, Síliel brought a twig of the Oiolarë, the Ever-summer for the bow of their ship, the sign of the friendship between the seafarers and Ossë.

In return the Shipwright found out much about the king of Nargothrond. He never told Gil Galad, but deep in his heart Círdan felt relief that the High Kingship would, if ever, fall to this youngest member of the House of Finarfin. Gil Galad reminded him much of his father Orodreth in his quiet bearing and the deep love both for lore and his people, but he was a better leader than Orodreth, more convincing, more determined and confident in his own leadership and thus inspiring more trust in his people.

The Lord of the Havens also was glad to notice how his affectionate feelings were hesitatingly returned. That it was more than only duty and circumstances which connected two elvenlords became undeniable clear - even for the reluctant mind of Gil Galad - when they heard about the death of Thingol and the attack of the dwarves from Nogrod on Doriath.

The news was a heavy blow for Círdan after all the years of close friendship with Thingol for whom he even had refused the Valar's invitation to the Undying Lands when Elwë was lost in the dark woods of Nan Elmoth, having found there his love, Melian of the Maiar.

Círdan sat alone in his study, reading books of lore without seeing and listening to the sad yet beautiful mourning songs of the Teleri without hearing.

He also did not notice the knock at the door, nor did he look up when after a while it opened and Gil Galad slowly entered the room.

He approached the Lord of the Teleri, stood in front of his map-covered desk and waited. Neither did he speak nor touch the elder elf that likewise was silent and lost in his thoughts of past days of friendship.

The night passed by and not until the first shimmer of dawn Círdan looked up.

"I think it would be fitting to offer you a seat at least."

"You may, though I did not come to sit down," Gil Galad answered and instantly continued "He will be happy, Círdan, once he leaves the Halls of Waiting. He often spoke of the Undying Lands and his longing for them was by no means lesser than yours - though he could hide it better." A small smile lifted the corners of his lips and he walked around the table.

"I know, son, I know. Nonetheless...he was the one reason to dismiss the chance of leaving these shores. A very good reason. But with Elwë Singollo gone..."

"...Nowë cannot leave the responsibility for teaching us younger Eldar the wisdom of those who made the Great Journey to others anymore."

In these days the true name of Círdan the Shipwright never was used among the elves and never had Gil Galad done so before. It had not been spoken since the departure of the Calaquendi to Valinor.

Partly this had been the Shipwright's own decision, for after losing most of his family, friends and even his secretly beloved he felt that also Nowë had left the shores of the Hither Lands. Partly it had been developed by his people, who out of admiration for his surpassing knowledge and skilfulness in building ships had given him the epessë 'Círdan'. As it was not unusual among the Quendi, the epessë had replaced the true name and now it was sheer unthinkable to call the Lord of the Teleri other than by his given name.

When he heard the name unspoken for so long, Círdan looked up finally. And found sympathy in the dark grey eyes of the king.

"In a lot of matters," Gil Galad said carefully, "the experience of many years is an advantage. But not so in the affairs of the heart, I believe." He went to the hearth and poured them some hot tea. He placed the cup in front of Círdan and closed the Shipwright's hands around it.

"Bemoan the friend you have lost, but never deem yourself alone in your grief."

"It's just...it was such a needless death," Círdan muttered after a while, "all because of nothing more than some kind of jewellery and a gem."

Gil Galad raised a brow. "Not just 'a gem', my friend. Don't forget it is one of the Silmarils we are talking about. They have clouded the mind of more than one man. Thingol was a venerable and wise king, but don't expect him to be unmoved by the greatest jewels in the whole of Arda."

The lord of the Teleri knew that the other was right, nevertheless was the doubt clear on his fair face.

"He will be happy," Gil Galad therefore went on. "As soon as he returns from the Halls of Waiting and sees the light and the meadows and all the beauty of Valinor again, and all those of whom he just like you had been separated. And he will be safe from all the sorrow in Beleriand."

"But it will take such a long time..."

"A time of healing and teaching. Has he not sorrows to be comforted, wounds to be healed and questions which seek for answers? Though I don't think it will take long. What has he to learn, what to atone for? The faults he made as leader of the Forsaken People? I believe he has already learned from them."(3)

Taking a sip of his tea the younger elf shuddered because of taste and warmth.

The Shipwright did not answer. He looked to the west, where the sky was still dark above the Undying Lands.

'I hope they can at least teach you to cope with the loss of your daughter,' he thought.

A few weeks later they received a letter from Dior son of Beren, the new king of Doriath, with a more detailed description of what had happened.

Greetings to Círdan the Shipwright, Lord of Balar and to Gil Galad son of Orodreth, King of Nargothrond, may the Valar protect you and a light shine upon all your ways.

Firstly I ask my cousin Gil Galad not to worry for his kin any longer. The Lady Galadriel and her husband Lord Celeborn departed from Doriath and crossed the Ered Luin shortly ere Húrin arrived with the Nauglamír. And though he fought fiercely against the dwarves, his grandfather Laerion fares well.

The dwarves attacked Doriath only because they desired the light of the Silmaril for themselves. They may say that they claimed the Nauglamír because it was the work of their father's hands, given to Finrod Felagund and not to Thingol Greymantle. But this was nothing but a pretext. Who could rightfully call it his own except for you, cousin? Though I request your permission to keep it in our care since it seems to me an unworthy and even unholy deed to remove the Silmaril from it.

They even did not demand it as soon as they heard it was in Doriath. They waited and set in the Silmaril without any word and only then suddenly claimed it to be theirs. I do not deny the power Fëanor's creation has over the hearts of those who behold it; nonetheless I can not but condemn them for their greed.

The Lady Melian left the realm soon after the death of King Elu Thingol. She spoke to Mablung alone and gave the Silmaril to his keeping. Afterwards she went away unseen and many of us believe she has returned to Aman, to the Gardens of Lórien whence she came.

On a lonely forgotten bay Melian the Maia stood at the Belegaer looking out into the blue distance. Her eyes still were filled with tears for her lost love, but her white cheeks were dry.

In the depths of her spirit she called to Manwë, pleading for help. When once she had taken bodily form out of love for Elwë Singollo, to gain power over the lands of Arda to built the Girdle of Doriath and to bear her beloved their daughter Lúthien, she also had bound herself to this body and could not unclad herself like all the other Ainur except for one.(4)

There was a loud cry and the sound of mighty wings thundered over the land. Melian did not turn at once when the breeze caused by the flapping of the giant eagle tousled her hair, but for a moment she smiled with relief and gratitude.

Only then she looked over her shoulder.

"Greetings to you, Thorondor, Lord of Eagles."

"My greetings, Lady Melian, Queen of Doriath, Lady of the Nightingales. Our Lord sent me to bring you back to the fair gardens of Lórien."

There at least she can see the present light of Valinor which may remind her of the splendour of former days. As many of my people I also believe that my grandsire appreciated the jewel that much because in it he could catch a glimpse of the light of the Two Trees he once saw in the Undying Lands, and that he wanted to preserve it for his Lady to give her also a memento of what she had left behind for his sake.

The attack of the dwarves came sudden and unexpected. Perhaps we relied too much on the protection of the Girdle, especially after Beleg Cúthalion left the border guards.

Many of the Doriathrim were killed in the battle of Menegroth. Among the fallen also is Mablung of the Heavy Hand. He died in defence of the Silmaril as he had promised to our Lady Melian, and the dwarves took the Nauglamír.

But tidings of it came to Tol Galen, and my father summoned our forces to go to battle against the dwarves. At the ford of Sarn Athrad we awaited them and killed nearly all.

The man looked down on the dead dwarf at his feet. The Lord of Nogrod, his face still a mask of hate and anger. The same hate and the same anger he had put into the course he had cast upon the treasure of Doriath.

Beren bent down to pick up the Nauglamír. He weighed it in his hands and pensively looked at the Silmaril, covered in blood yet beautiful beyond all words. Such a wonderful work and still a small price for the wonder of Lúthien who awaited him on Tol Galen.

Late in the following night he put the whole treasure into a boat and unseen by anyone rowed on the river Ascar to a secret and hidden place. There he sank the gold, the jewels and all the riches Thingol had possessed, even the incredibly precious works of Fëanor himself which the king of Doriath had once received as gifts from Maedhros and his brothers.

No one knew where the hoard lay and no one ever found out. And afterwards the river Ascar was named Rathlóriel, Goldenbed. Until the end of the days the hoard of Thingol Greymantle will lie under the waters of Ulmo, once the singing waters of the Ascar, now the Belegaer's salty seas.(5)

And those who managed to escape into the woods on the slopes of the Ered Lindon fell victim to the Shepherds of the Trees, the Ents, who since a long time served the Lady Melian for she was akin to Yavanna herself and tended the trees in Irmo's garden of Lórien.(6)

What befell the thieves we do not know and never will, they were chased into the shadowy forests which cover the flanks of the mountains and we heard nothing of them any more.

Then my father returned with the Silmaril to my mother and on the isle of Tol Galen it is now worn by Lúthien the Fair and the Land of the Dead that Live is fruitful and of an outstanding beauty which can be surpassed by the Undying Lands at most.

This and more Dior Eluchíl wrote. He told also about the death of Glaurung the dragon and as much this news relieved Círdan he was at the same time afraid of what the elves of Nargothrond would do. The longing for their home seemed still strong in their hearts and it was a huge and mighty realm, and if restored a powerful protection against the thread from the North for the elven realms and settlements of Beleriand.

And he feared to lose Gil Galad, who was dear to him, but the king of Nargothrond never spoke his mind in this matter.

When he no longer could stand the uncertainty, Círdan decided to ask Gil Galad and face the truth.

He found the son of Orodreth standing at a small lake a Grey-elf of Mithrim named Annael once had made for the swans living on Balar, since he and his people loved the huge white birds who were the token of his House, just as the Teleri loved the great silvergulls, which accompany the ships. (7) It was a silent and lovely place and whenever the Shipwright sought it out, he felt his fëa calmed.

His kinsman stood at the edge of the lake under the wide branches of a white poplar. A soft breeze came over the lake, causing the leaves to rustle and to blink silvery when their white bottom was turned upside. The sun shone through the dense leafage and turned the scene in a gentle, peaceful light. Here and now it seemed hard to imagine that there could be any sorrow in the lands of Arda.

Apparently Gil Galad was deep in thought. He held a piece of bread, feeding the white swans with it. They climbed the bank to receive not only the treat but also some gentle touches. Long since Círdan had noticed that of all animals especially birds seemed to be attracted by the elvenking.

"They recognise the blood of Eärwen the swanmaiden of Alqualondë," Círdan said softly while approaching.

Gil Galad turned his gaze from the swan he just had caressed and his eyes still were dreamy and peaceful.

"Also the blood of Eärwen recognises their beauty and kindness," he answered. His gaze became clear and focussed, lost the absent expression. "But you did not come to tell me about my ancestor's heritage, do you? You come with an important matter."

Círdan smiled ruefully. This young elf was much too quick in learning to read his mind.

"Indeed, I do." He hesitated. "Gil Galad, son, we have heard about what has happened in Beleriand. In the realm of Nargothrond..."

"Yes...?"

"What I want to know...to ask..."

Círdan stopped and blinked in confusion. Why was it so difficult to utter a simple question?

"What are you planning to do now?" he managed to ask at last, but his voice was low and hoarse.

Gil Galad looked at the Shipwright with a frown.

"What do you think I'll do? Pack my things and move all of my people back to the North? What is there for us in the realm of Finrod Felagund? Only sad memories and the still raging orcs. We have found a new home here; we have bounds of friendship, of love and family with the Falathrim. The children are in new families. I would not separate them from those they have just learned to accept as their parents."

"It is still your realm, your heritage." Círdan said, unsuccessfully trying to hide his pleasure over this answer. Another one of the swans left the water and approached the two elves, lured by the treat and in complete trust of them. Gil Galad watched the animal.

"It's a tomb, filled with pain. Nargothrond never could be the same for us. It is not the stone we miss, it's our families, all those who died." He shook his head. "And it is tainted by the dragon forever. I do not want to live where he has been crawling over the bodies of my dead people. The caves beside the Narog are spoiled until the end of Arda, at least for the elves of Nargothrond, though others seem to think otherwise. (8) And regarding Finrod's hoard - we don't need it and I don't want it. It is cursed by the greed of the dragon which must be in every single piece of it. Leave it where it is, so everybody can take away what he likes and Glaurung's spell will be in vain. I do not wish for jewels and gold."(9)

Círdan raised a brow. "A Noldo who renounces gold and jewellery?"

"A king who had a cruel lesson in what really matters."

The lord of the Teleri raised a hand as if to touch the other elf, but did not finish the movement.

"I do not believe that you needed this lesson." He hesitated and instead stretched his hand towards the swan, who greedily snapped for a treat which wasn't there. "Be happy. Glaurung is dead. Túrin has risked his life to revenge Nargothrond."

Gil Galad handed the Shipwright a piece of bread but in spite of this friendly gesture his voice was sharp.

"Túrin did not want to take revenge for what happened to the people who gave him shelter when he was homeless. He took revenge for himself on Glaurung. I have serious doubts that he ever truly cared for others. None was dear enough to him to do so. He did not even have enough trust in Thingol, his own foster father, to face his verdict."

"You judge him too hard, son."

"She loved him, Círdan. She loved him and either he did not look closely enough to take notice of it or he did not care."

"Who loved him? Finduilas?"

Still the mention of the name forced a deep breath of the king.

"Yes. The second of my family to unhappily fall in love with a mortal. She tried to hide it from me, but how could I miss it, close to my heart as she was?"

For a few moments the ancient elf pondered if he would be allowed to share some of his knowledge.

"He has a part to play ere the end of Arda," he carefully said at last. "Then also your sister will be revenged."

"What you are talking about?" Gil Galad asked with a puzzled expression. "And I assure you that she will be revenged much earlier!"

"I cannot tell you more, son. But believe me, please, and don't judge him until the end has come."(10)

"So I will trust you in this, Círdan the Shipwright." Gil Galad said doubtfully and in his mind he added 'Who calls me 'son' unbidden. And though you bear a greater wisdom than father, yet you do not understand me as well as he did.'

The Shipwright was sensible enough to change the subject.

"What do you think of Dior?"

"He is too young. But this seems to become habit in the succession of the elven kingdoms," Gil Galad answered with a humourless laugh. "The Sindar may allow female heirs or those of female lines, but in this they do not differ from the Noldor."(11)

"That's one thing I've never clearly understood. Why did your people change the rules of succession of the Eldar?"

"I don't know why, Finduilas was interested in culture, not I." He shrugged. "It is nothing important. Dior is Thingol's heir; I don't believe anyone would deny that. Indeed, I would like to come to know him. I knew both Lúthien and Beren and...and it would be interesting to see if he is worth the sacrifice Finrod Felagund made."

Círdan turned to leave the lake and the other elf followed him. "I'm sure he is. And his children likewise." He winked. "At least one branch of the family grows."

Now the king indeed laughed. "No, Círdan, don't try this again. At the moment I'm very content to leave the 'growing' of my family to Idril or Galadriel. Or a certain old elf who is long past the age of choosing a spouse."

The thought of her was a short pain, nonetheless the Shipwright smiled. And while they returned to the settlement he teased his younger companion incessantly until most of his gloom was gone.

Shaking his head the Shipwright strode towards the main hall. He was not happy to send a messenger for the king.

This morning he had been pleased, when Gil Galad told him he would go for a swim. Too seldom the king entrusted himself to the patience and goodwill of Ossë, though he apparently enjoyed swimming in the water of the Belegaer. But the elves who had reached Balar only an hour ago had made clear that they would speak to none save Orodreth's son himself.

Gil Galad arrived soon later, his dark hair still wet and curling on his back. He mustered the five newcomers with a questioning look. Dark haired Noldor, their garment of earthy colours, plain and made for a long journey. Two of them seemed to be closely related due to the likeness of their sharp features and the unusual bright eyes.

"We seek the help of the High King Turgon," their leader, a woman with a much too deep voice for her delicate build and a determined expression around her full lips, said. "We live near the Andram, north-west of Nan Tathren. For many weeks now a huge group of orcs strays in this area. We do not know if they are sent by the Dark Lord himself or just outcasts, expelled from their own people."

"I never knew that orcs expel members from their hoard," Gil Galad admitted.

"They do if one behaves against the rules. That we know from the Sindar who live with us. They have admitted two of their kin who had lived in Angband as slaves and managed to escape to their families."

Gil Galad raised a brow.

"They took a great risk by doing that."

The woman lowered her head.

"I said the same, at the beginning. But both of them seem to be trustworthy. There is wisdom and there is mercy. We decided to follow the latter."

"You may do as you want. Go on!"

"They seek for us; follow us and more than once we just escaped by sheer chance. But we are not enough to fight them, unless secretly. So they began felling the trees, one by one, the fires never stop. They will find us if they are not killed or chased away. We do not know where to find the High King, lest how to send a message, but we are sure that you, mylord, as his heir can help us."

Gil Galad hesitated and cast a meaningful glance towards Círdan and Celebrimbor.

"This is a grave matter and has to be considered. Please wait while we discuss it."

He saw the reluctance in the woman's eyes.

"I know that the time is short," he said. "It won't take long. Rest now, you have made a long journey."

Síliel, who until now had stood in the backyard approached and invited the foreign elves with a gesture to follow her. "Please, come. This is the king's hall and here you shall find peace and rest from your labours."

While the strangers followed Síliel, Gil Galad retreated with those who built the council of Balar in the main library.

"It would be madness to send a message by eagle just for a bunch of orcs," he began. "And even if we do - Turgon will not send one of his warriors to help them. So we have to deal with this matter, if we like it or not. We have to send troops..."

After the council was over he stayed behind in the room with Círdan, Gildor and Celebrimbor.

"Have I done the right thing?" Gil Galad asked when they were alone, sitting amidst piles of books and honey brown oiled wood.

"How can I presume to make decisions in the name of the High King of the Noldor? I have neither the experience nor the authority to do so."

"You have definitely done right," Celebrimbor emphatically answered. "As you said, Turgon will not help them." He laughed. "Should he feel the necessity to complain about your decision he can come to Balar and reproach you personally."

Círdan, however, had doubts. He was used to the thought of the might and rights of a king above him and felt unease at this disrespect towards the High King's power, no matter for what reason.

"The title of the High King is more than just the right to give orders. He is the cultural centre of the folk. It would weaken Turgon's position if you took his place."

A long hidden anger rose in Gil Galad's heart.

"What a High King is he, not to care for his people? He fails them. It would be his duty to solve such problems, but he hi- lives inside his secret city and does not ask how they fare."

"He has to fulfil his own fate," Círdan answered.

"He is High King of the Noldor," came the sharp answer, "his fate is to be with his people. Or his title is nothing more but an idle word!"

"If he had abdicated, then your father would have become heir of the High Kingship."

The younger elf shortly pressed his lips together, before he spoke.

"...For which he just was not the right man. I know that."

He looked down on his suddenly restless hands and the broad ring he wore on his left, almost the only heirloom he possessed - the ring that once had indicated him as the heir to the throne of Nargothrond.

"I had to acknowledge this fact, though I love him dearly."

"Of course you do. Orodreth was a good man and a good leader of his people."

Raising his head Gil Galad looked into Círdan's wise eyes with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

Against Círdan's advice, founded in his great fear for the safety of the king, Gil Galad personally led the troops he sent to the aid o the Sindarin and Noldorin elves.

They called as many men to arms as they could muster. They set sail on a fair morning and the white sails of the ships of the Teleri glowed against the sky. And Gil Galad thought back, to another day when the Noldor required the Teleri for their ships.

'Why didn't you simply ask for the ships and explain to the Teleri your need?' he thought, 'maybe they would have ferried you to the Hither Lands and the bloodshed of Alqualondë could have been avoided.'

The elves did not stop at the mouths of Sirion but sailed through the deeper creeks as far upstream as the white ships could safely travel. After they reached their destination Gil Galad mounted his dapple-grey horse and took up Aeglos and the sword Celebrimbor had forged for him which was sharp and long and not yet tested in battle.

Argon, however, the young man who had witnessed Helegethir's death and who still felt shame and guilt for having abandoned his queen in face of the dragon, summoned those to him who were most faithful to the king and bore the deepest love for him and were skilled in fighting.

Of them he built a guard and though only formed for this one occasion it would endure until the end of the Second Age. Ever after they were near to Gil Galad in battle and most valiant of them was Argon himself, for to him his life mattered little but only the welfare of his king and his people.

Also Círdan worried about his self-declared fosterling, although for another reason. The tension Gil Galad seldom displayed grew from day to day. And what happened when all this suppressed feelings were allowed to burst out the ancient elf saw two weeks later at their first encounter with the orcs.

He witnessed how the usually calm and even-tempered son of Orodreth changed into a passionate if still controlled warrior who did not just fight against Morgoth's creatures, but killed them, a destructive outburst of hate, aided by deadly skilfulness.

Cruelty was not unknown though not habit among the elves, even towards their foes. They fought and killed for several reasons, not all of them honourable, but never out of sheer pleasure.

Gil Galad, however, came very near to both. Aeglos was a shimmering deathly shape, soon covered in black blood, but still wanting more. And the son of Orodreth found in the dead of the orcs if not pleasure, at least satisfaction in his revenge.

It frightened Círdan.

Every now and then people came to ask for the High King's help and since there was no way to reach Gondolin, came to Balar. With hidden amusement as well as pride Círdan noticed how Gil Galad became used to making decisions for other communities. The leader of the Falathrim did not know for sure, but he feared that one day not too far away his distant kin would make them in the name of Turgon no longer.

Only one year later they heard about the second destroying of Doriath, this time by the sons of Fëanor who tried to seize the Silmaril of Beren and Lúthien, in the fulfilling of their oath desperate enough even to commit a second kinslaying.

To both of them this seemed the end of an era, since neither Círdan nor Gil Galad could imagine a time without the strength of Doriath in the distant Northeast.

And as only a few years before, the elves of Balar went to meet the refugees, carrying with them food and all they considered helpful.

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Chapter End Notes

 

The first words were, of course, cited from the Silmarillion 'Of the Ruin of Doriath'.

(1) I've found nowhere an 'official' name of the little island in the Bay of Balar. The name Tol Faenglîn and its meaning are my creation, though many thank-yous and orc-cookies go to Nemis who checked the Sindarin and also searched for the isle's name.

(2) star constellations (according to the Silmarillion and Foster/ Pesch 'The Complete Guide to Middle Earth):

Wilwarin (Butterfly) – Cassiopeia

Soronúme (Eagle of the West) – Aquila (with the bright star Atair at its 'top')

Menelmacar (Swordsman of the Sky) – Orion

Valacirca (Sickle of the Valar) – Ursa Maior

(3) "Forsaken People": translation of the name "Eglath" which those Teleri gave to themselves who were left in Middle Earth due to their search for Elwë Singollo

(4) Melian's bodily form: in 'Myths Transformed' (HoME X, Morgoth's Ring) it is said that

"Melkor 'incarnated' himself (as Morgoth) permanently. He did this so as to control the hroa, the 'flesh' or physical matter, of Arda."

I believe likewise this must have been the case when Melian took a bodily form to build the Girdle and to give birth to Lúthien, both interventions in the physical matter of Arda.

(5) The sunken hoard of Thingol: am I the only one who was reminded to Hagen of Tronje and the Rhinegold when reading about Beren sinking the hoard into a river?

(6) Melian's life before she came to ME: see the Silmarillion: Valaquenta – Of the Maiar and Chapter Four: Of Thingol and Melian

(7) Swans: I don't know if swans would live on an isle as far from the mainland as Balar, but for the sake of the story let's assume they did. Hey, it was the muse's idea to let Gil Galad feed swans! Annael and the lake came afterwards. For those who try to remember: yes, Annael was the elf who was foster-father of Tuor. As far as I know nothing is said if he and his people ever reached Balar.

(8) Others living in Nargothrond: Gil Galad refers to Mîm the Petty-Dwarf, who after Glaurung's departure came to Nargothrond, lived there and took possession of all he found. He was killed by Húrin.

(9) The motif of this is, of course, taken from the 'Fellowship' (the Barrow-wights-episode). I simply like the thought of a spell broken by renunciation of riches.

(10) Círdan speaks of the 2nd prophecy of Mandos (see HoME V The Lost Road, Quenta Silmarillion, § 31):

"Thus spake Mandos in prophecy, when the Gods sat in judgement in Valinor, and the rumour of his words was whispered among all the Elves of the West. When the world is old and the Powers grow weary, then Morgoth, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of Night out of the Timeless Void; and he shall destroy the Sun and Moon. But Earendel shall descend upon him as a white and searing flame and drive him from the airs. Then shall the Last Battle be gathered on the fields of Valinor. In that day Tulkas shall strive with Morgoth, and on his right hand shall be Fionwe, and on his left Turin Turambar, son of Hurin, coming from the halls of Mandos; and the black sword of Turin shall deal unto Morgoth his death and final end; and so shall the children of Hurin and all Men be avenged."

This prophecy was originally spoken after the War of Wrath, but I will assume that Círdan only was told that Túrin would have to play an important part in the history of Arda, though not what this part would be.

And please don't pity me for writing the whole text. It's unnecessary... ;)

(11) Rules of succession: there's a discussion (several and partially very heated ones to be exact) about the rules of succession among the elves. For example: why was Gil Galad 'the last heir of the High Kingship' – which means that Galadriel and Elrond were excluded (female/ female line), while Dior (female line) could follow Thingol as king of Doriath?

Since Tolkien himself said there were different customs among the various tribes of the Eldar, I just suppose that the rules of succession the Teleri had were different from those of the Noldor.

2nd AN:

Hm, this chapter has nearly more footnote-text than story itself...