Narn Gil-galad by Earonn

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Chapter 3: Epessë

 

Curtsy: To Nemis as usual for ensuring that my old English teacher doesn't have to kill me - or himself - and for having so much fun with you. Hope to meet you at the RingCon 2003 to learn how to handle the...mop... ;))

Dedicated? Yes, to the ladies and non-ladies at Mark Ferguson's yahoo-group, especially to those who recently returned :)

A/N

Finch: thank you for the hint. You're right; it shouldn't sound too "modern". The curse of depending on a dictionary… To you not an orc-cookie but an apple (since I know you don't like it "overly-sweet"…) ;)

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III Epessë

Finellach tucked up his legs closer to his body until he found a comfortable sitting position in the niche of the window, then he rested the book against his thighs. He took the glass standing beside him on a small table together with a candlestick – for it was long after nightfall - and drank some of the apple juice. The trees which grew the fruits were standing in an orchard on Tol Sirion itself and to him the taste was tantamount to home.

To sit tightly crooked in a windows niche, the roaring of the river to the left, a jar of apple-juice to the right, probably wasn't appropriate for the son of the Lord of Minas Tirith. But good books deserved good circumstances. And this, a collection of old tales of the Sindar his grandfather on his mother's side Laerion had sent, definitely was such a book.

When the door opened he made a belated and half-hearted attempt to shove himself in a more adequate stance. Luckily it was none of his parents but only Finduilas who came in – no, stormed in, the brightest of all smiles on her fair face. One moment he glanced at her enquiringly, and then she'd reached him and unhesitatingly threw herself against his body. In a second's time her arms were wrapped around his neck and her face buried against his shoulder.

The book he was able to catch, but the glass fell from the edge of the table and burst on the wooden floor. Not that Finduilas paid any attention to this.

"He loves me, 'Ellach! He loves me and oh, I love him too and it's so wonderful, I'm so incredibly happy…" While she exclaimed that, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt, her arms tightened around his neck and she began to laugh and to cry at the same time.

Finellach was accustomed to the emotional outbursts of his usually very calm sister, which were rare and happened only when they were alone. So he let her press against him.

"Who? Who loves you?" he asked.

"Gwindor!"

He softly caressed her shoulder blades while he mused if he ever had noticed hints of a special affection in Gwindor's behaviour towards her. They were friends and the captain of the guards always had been fond of Finduilas, but love?

In her case it had, of course, been different. Already months ago he had noticed the changes in her and it had not taken long until he realised what affected Finduilas. But she hadn't spoken with him about it, so he had been silent, too.

It was, however, odd to hear it from her lips now.

'Is it you, Gwindor?', he silently asked. 'Are you the one to take her away from me?'

As soon as he became aware of the thought he dismissed it. Nobody could 'take away' Finduilas from him, she was his sister and he would be her big brother forever. In spite of this it worried him.

Finally he forced himself to smile.

"And since when are you aware of this – and of your own feelings?"

'Believe me, little sister, I do know exactly, probably better than you, dear one.' This thought turned the false smile into a genuine one. No one knew her better than he did. Not Gwindor, not even their parents, and this wouldn't change for a long time.

She blushed, but he only noticed when he shifted her to take a look into her eyes.

"I…I wasn't sure of my feelings. And I couldn't know if he really was fond of me or only tried to treat me kindly."

"Very understandable. Who couldn't act kindly towards you?"

"Oh, you!" She laughed and lightly plucked on one of his dark strands.

Finellach slapped on this wickedly tearing hand. "Will you kindly stop maiming your big brother? Better tell me why you are so sure of him now?"

"Because he told me, most foolish of all big brothers! That's why after dinner he requested a walk. We've been down at the river bank and…well, he just told me."

She possibly blushed even deeper and Finellach could fairly well imagine what happened. He took the elfmaid's hands in a firm grip.

"This is fantastic news, little sister."

Big blue eyes stared at him, somewhat uncertain. "So…you agree?"

He laughed. "Shouldn't you ask Mother and Father that question? I don't have to decide such matters; I'm just your brother." Then he turned serious and looked into her eyes. "Gwindor is a good man. I'm convinced you will become very happy together. I'm serious about that."

He was rewarded with a firm kiss on the cheek, before Finduilas practically danced out of the room to share her luck with the other maidens.

Finellach gazed after her until she closed the door more enthusiastically than the wood would have appreciated. Then he glanced out of the window towards the foaming river deep down, frowning.

He knew, he should be happy, at least for her. A part of him was indeed pleased about it, took delight from her bright smile and her bouncy steps.

But another part of him – and this seemed to be the larger one – didn't want it. It simply didn't want anybody else to share all her secrets and earn her absolute confidence. He wanted to protectively take her in his arms, not see another male do so. He loved her, his little sister, as much as a brother could love. So very long she had been nearly exclusively his, how could he endure to share her now?

'Gwindor, you don't know at all what it is you demand of me', he thought nearly angry.

Certainly he wouldn't utter any of these thoughts, neither to her, nor to Gwindor and not to their parents, should they ask for his opinion. For basically he knew it was not correct to think like that, that he claimed too much and too exclusively. That it was her birthright to find happiness in love.

The rational part of his mind did know this. But another part, the one which nearly rushed at her since she had been born, guarded, protected and loved her, refused to give up only a single part of what it possessed.

Some time later he returned from his reverie. Finduilas was his sister and he owed her the sincere love of a brother. So he would accept Gwindor and for her sake accept him as a brother.

Regardless if he liked it or not.

Gwindor wasn't the kind of elf he imagined winning Finduilas' heart, erratic and nearly uneven as he was, serious in one moment, merry and hilarious the next. But now he realised that the captain of the guard had skillfully courted her. Clever guy, that much he had to admit. He had been so inconspicuously that nobody had noticed – not even Finduilas herself.

He looked at the shattered glass and the puddle on the floor. Then he carefully put the book aside and rose with a sigh to clear up the mess.

He was well aware of all the people expecting him to talk with Gwindor, to welcome or to admonish the guard.

But when he met the elf the next morning at the breakfast table, he was content to give the other a knowing nod. He knew Gwindor since they had been children, the other being some years older than he. And they were if not close, at least good friends.

Several days later Gwindor himself addressed him while they were listening to the evening songs and tales in the Great Hall.

"You don't object, do you?" he asked abruptly, as all around the last singer was praised.

Finellach laughed amused, and if this laughter was not completely genuine, no one took notice of it.

"How come that everybody here seems to believe, I would have anything to decide in this matter? It's her decision, not mine. But to reassure you, I'll gladly give you my permission." With these words he patted Gwindor's shoulder.

"Look what we have here! The lucky aspirant apparently is acknowledged by the family" a sonorous voice said from the left. "Thus dwindles the last hope for us poor guys. Wails will to be heard on Tol Sirion and likely throughout Beleriand up to the Ered Luin and beyond!"

Finellach turned to the speaker. "Inglorion, your epessë doesn't give you any right to talk about my family and my future brother-in-law in such a frivolous way!" The rebuke would have been much more impressive if he had been more successful in suppressing his grin.

Since Gildor had earned his epessë due to the really astonishing resemblance to king Finrod Felagund(1) – the more astonishing as he wasn't at least kin to the House of Finarfin – he deemed himself an unofficial relative of Finellach and Finduilas and behaved accordingly. On another person maybe this would have seemed brash or impertinent. Gildor, however, knew exactly where to draw the line and he always adorned his comments with enough humour to amuse more than to scandalise his audience.

"What, do you expect me to tacitly watch this puppy snatching the finest jewel in the realm of Nargothrond, oh, the whole Beleriand under our very eyes?"

"You forget about Lúthien" Gwindor reminded him softly.

"Don't try to distract me, it won't work, Gwindor!" Gildor stepped next to him and laid an arm across the other elf's shoulder. "Since Finellach obviously doesn't know what he owes his family, it seems that I have to fill the gap. Okay, be kind to Finduilas, anticipate her every wish and spoil her as she deserves. Should she not be the happiest elf ever from now until the end of Arda, I'll be forced to...to..." With a helpless glance he searched for a fitting punishment.

"Yes?", Finellach asked innocently.

"...to take some horrible measures, so dreadful I don't even dare to name them here. What else?" Never one to be outdone, Gildor laughed and gave Gwindor a last hard slap on the back ere returning to his daily duties.

The two elves looked at his disappearing form.

"I'm happy above all measures that Finduilas is your sister and not his."

"And I'm happy above all measures that it is you she loves and not he."

Gwindor was easily included in Orodreth's family. Neither he nor Finduilas wished to betroth themselves already, but they spent much time together, sometimes alone, more often in her brother's company. Finduilas blossomed at Gwindor's love and became even more beautiful, if this was possible. In many a quiet hour she already began to imagine how it would feel living together with Gwindor as husband and wife. Then she dreamed of golden-haired, laughing elf-children running up and down the great stair of the tower of Minas Tirith.

Apart from the occasional journeys to their kin in Nargothrond, Dorthonion or Doriath, Finellach and Finduilas lived on Tol Sirion until the Dagor Bragollach.

Finellach didn't attend this battle, which in fact consisted of many battles in a campaign lasting for months. Orodreth left him behind to guard Sirion's pass and the isle itself against possible simultaneous attacks of Morgoth. He deemed the Vala absolutely capable of using the whole attack only as a diversion from his real goal – the Pass of Sirion in the West or the passage between Dorthonion and the Ered Luin in the East.

Orodreth himself would accompany his king in this war, as it was fitting, but his son would stay and bear a scarcely less essential responsibility. Though he was very young for such a duty, Orodreth was sure that Finellach would be able to fulfill it. Since nearly two hundred years he had trained his son for this and he had been a clever student. Though it had been much more fun for him to teach his elder child in finer arts than those of war.

So he bade his family farewell when Finrod Felagund arrived from the South with his army on the way to the plains of Ard Galen, where he intended to supply Angrod and Aegnor. The brothers had sent despairing reports of the fires and devastations on Ard Galen and the northern slopes of Dorthonion Morgoth's flames had caused.

He embraced Helegethir, Finduilas and Finellach in turn and fondly kissed every one of them. "Don't abandon hope, I will return. The host is huge and Finrod a talented tactician", he said.

Helegethir did not answer, only kissed him again. No word in any tongue could soothe her fear. This was no marauding bunch of orcs. This was a well-organised attack, planned by Morgoth himself and led by a dragon. They all knew about the danger Orodreth was going to face.

Finellach wished his father good luck with few words. He didn't want to let him sense his sorrow and grief, didn't want to add another worry. Instead he laid one arm around the crying Finduilas, who held her father's hand to cover it now and then with quiet kisses.

"I'll take care of him", Finrod said from behind. Helegethir turned to him and kissed the king also lightly on the cheek.

"Take care of yourself, Finrod. You are their king; Morgoth wishes your death more than that of anyone else, except maybe for Fingolfin and Thingol. They will try to get you, by all means possible."

Finrod sadly smiled. He didn't intend to explain his niece-in-law why death couldn't bear any horror for him who had left his love in the Undying Lands.

Gwindor also followed his lord. He stood in the background and said nothing. Finduilas and he already had bidden each other farewell the last night, a sad and melancholy farewell.

'Why did we wait to marry? Now it's maybe too late to bond our fëar', he thought worriedly.

They also bade farewell to Barahir. The brother of Bregolas, lord of the House of Beor, had arrived with his warriors two days earlier than Finrod. The Edain camped on the eastern shore of the river, and the elves supplied them generously with food and all necessities. They had left their homes in Dorthonion southward through the Pass of Anach to assist Finrod, while Bregolas with the main host supported Angrod and Aegnor.

Helegethir bowed gracefully.

"Lord, since your people came into this land you have been faithful friends", she said. "And as uncertain the fate of those Men is, who fall victim to death, I wish it may be a good one and believe Eru Ilúvatar to care for your fallen soldiers. But return with as many of your men as possible to us and to your families."

"My gratitude for your kind words, Lady", Barahir responded. "It will be my pleasure to return and bring back your kin. But if need arises, we will defend Beleriand to the bitter end. The enemy must not reach the south."

"And he will not, of that I'm sure. Now leave, and may the Valar protect your way."

They mounted and crossed the bridge to the eastern shore. This they followed up-stream in north-eastern direction to the Fen of Serech in order to attack Morgoth's armies from the West.

And only after the riders were out of sight Helegethir turned away without so much as a word and ascended the stair to the tower, while Finduilas and Finellach followed her. As they reached their family's rooms the lady of Tol Sirion turned over to her son, embraced him firmly and let her tears flow freely, after she had withheld them so long.

Now Finellach was in charge for Sirion's pass. There were some experienced chieftains of the guard left by Orodreth to assist him. He secured the river valley as good as possible with the few men who were left behind and sent scouts in the surrounding mountains. Like his father he feared that orcs would circumvent the hosts of elves and men and sneak south along the slopes of Ered Wethrin or the western ranges of Dorthonion.

More difficult than to stand in for his father's military duties it was for Finellach to fortify all those who were frightened by the constant bad news from the north. Alongside with Helegethir and Finduilas he consorted and encouraged the elves, and only when alone they allowed themselves to confess their fear and sorrow to each other. And indeed he was able to fill the hearts of his people with new hope and confidence.

As heavy as the defender's losses on the battlefields were, Morgoth couldn't manage to break through in the west, though he was successful in the lands of Fëanor's sons.

The following spring Finrod returned with his host to Tol Sirion. They had suffered horrible losses. In the midst of the soldiers Gwindor reached the isle and Finduilas tightened the grip on her mother's hand while she watched in silent happiness her beloved returning nearly unscathed in spite of all danger he had faced.

Finrod and Orodreth rode at the back of the troops, only lightly wounded but with grim, serious faces. At the gates of Minas Tirith they were welcomed in respectful silence.

At the beginning Orodreth didn't say much and Finrod barely one word. Only at the evening of this day the elves gathered in the Great Hall to commemorate the dead and hear the report of the warriors.

There Finellach heard of his grandfather Angrod's death and that of his grand-uncle Aegnor, who had loved Andreth of the Edain so much. He mourned, for he knew that he would never see Angrod's smiling face and never hear Aegnor's contagious laughter again (2). And Finrod told, how Barahir son of Bregor rescued him and Orodreth from certain death, when they had been cut off from their main host and were surrounded by orcs. Barahir and his men fought their way through and built a wall of spears around them. Thus elves and men had been able to penetrate the enemy's lines, though with great losses.

Certainly Finellach was deeply grateful to the Edain for his deed and saw his feelings for the Secondborn confirmed. He hoped to see Barahir again one day to express his gratitude.

But never again Barahir would leave the highland of Dorthonion.

After his return from the war Finrod stayed for a while at Tol Sirion, then he travelled, accompanied by Orodreth, his family and some of his chieftains, towards Nargothrond to hold a council concerning the next steps of the elves.

Here they heard of the death of the High King Fingolfin, who had challenged Morgoth against all hope. They mourned for the proud son of Finwë who had led the Noldorin elves across the Helcaraxë and ruled them in Beleriand. And Finrod sent messengers to Fingon, who now took up his father's duties as High King of the exiled Noldor.

Only a short time later Celegorm and Curufin arrived at Nargothrond. The sons of Fëanor had been expelled from their land at the Pass of Aglon and southwards by the sheer endless number of orcs. Now they found a new home in Finrod's dwelling.

Finarfin's son hesitated with this decision, for he was still shocked and outraged by their deeds at Alqualondë and Losgar. Furthermore, a shadow of foreboding lay on his heart whenever he saw one of the brothers. But they were close friends of his nephew and for this friendship's sake he permitted them to stay in his halls.

They reached Nargothrond late at night and the few torches at the large gates only scarcely enlightened the entrance hall behind, throwing flickering shadows across walls and furnishing.

The Fëanorian elves, however, did not pay any attention to this. They led their horses in and whoever was capable supported one of the numerous injured, who were their main concern. Besides they were too exhausted and battered to think about the inside of the dwelling. Nargothrond meant safety, warmth and a dry place to sleep, a home offered to homeless – and the elves following their lords Celegorm and Curufin didn't know or asked for anything more than that and weren't interested in further details.

One of them, however, turned around after passing the gates. When the mighty wings of the door closed behind them and shut out chill and danger, Celebrimbor looked back. The gates were massive and heavy, but he would have constructed them differently, easier to handle. He would have to talk about this with his father, maybe they could compensate for being put up.

Every one of them was well aware that regardless of any bonds of family it was mainly the close friendship between Fëanor's sons and the nephew of the king, which granted them stay. The haughty Fëanorians did not like to depend on the pity and helpfulness of others. But they had no choice.

In complete exhaustion Celebrimbor bent down his head, while they were lead into the Great Hall. All around lamps and candles were lit, and the elves of Nargothrond attended them with great care. They received food and clothes to dry themselves from the cold rain and were – outwardly – welcomed like long missed relatives.

Only when someone touched his arm, Celebrimbor looked up. A young woman stood in front of him, bright blue eyes beyond smooth golden hair, framing an oval, friendly face. Tired as he was he needed a few seconds until he recognised her.

"Greetings, Finduilas", he murmured.

She gave him a fond smile. "That wasn't exactly what I asked, but also greetings to you, cousin Celebrimbor – the third time by now."

He blushed slightly. "Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. I'm only somewhat fatigued."

Her face became soft and sympathetic. "'Somewhat' is a clear understatement, I deem. No offence was taken. Come, sit down here with us, I will pour you some wine."

He was taken into a corner, set down between some other ladies of Nargothrond and got a huge, comforting warm goblet of spiced hot wine. When their hands touched, Finduilas shivered.

"How cold your hands are! Hurry up and drink!" He obeyed and she took away the goblet, placed it on a table nearby and then took his hands, which were wet and chilled, into hers. At least she tried to, but her hands were as she was: small and delicate, incapable to cover his big ones, strengthened by working at the forge. Laughing she called one of her friends to help her in the task.

Celebrimbor relaxed and relished the cheering up and the friendliness granted to him; and Finduilas' beauty and warm kindness enlightened his heart.

Many of their people had accompanied the sons of Fëanor, but none in Nargothrond could know the consequences this should have in the future. At the moment they all were happy that so many elves had managed to escape the orcs.

Celegorm, however, still suffered under his absurd and thus only the harder to suppress jealousy he felt for his friend's happiness. He didn't try nor wish to open his heart to anyone, so he acted more and more aloof and slowly began to treat Orodreth and his family in an unkindly manner. And over the weeks these feelings became all the more difficult to control.

Two years Orodreth succeeded in defending the Pass of Sirion against Morgoth after the Dagor Bragollach. This was a great help for the realms behind the Ered Wethrin and Dorthonion, and many of the wandering and dispersed Sindar were able to flee through Orodreth's work – among them Helegethir's family – to the safety of Doriath or the Falas.

But in the summer of the third year Sauron, one of Morgoth's most powerful servants, attacked Minas Tirith. His power was terrible and mighty, so the elves couldn't hold Tol Sirion.

Finellach like all others fought against the assault of the orcs. These already had reached the eastern shore of the Sirion and stood only mere leagues before the isle. They did not dare to use boats, for still Ulmo's might was in the water.

The elven warriors doggedly defended a small band of land between a rocky foothill of western Dorthonion and the river. They knew, behind them their families were leaving the isle with the casualties and searched safety in the dense woods. Fortunately Orodreth had prepared enough horses and carts months ago already.

The Lord of Tol Sirion and his son fought side by side. The night had grown old and they knew, soon the warriors of Morgoth would have to retreat. Until then they tried to hold them off with endless numbers of well-aimed arrows from behind an improvised barricade.

They heard, however, the hammering and thunder of falling trees. An attack was prepared.

The orcs eventually entered the small clearing in front of the wall and now they carried great shields of joined trunks and branches, every about five times broad and twice as high as an adult elf.

The defenders knew they had to stay, only shortly, until the last carts had left the isle and reached a safe distance. So they lay away their now useless bows and drew their swords. The moonlight shimmered bluish on the sharp weapons.

When the orcs had reached the base of the wall by mere meters, the elves stormed upon them from above, using the drive to their own advantage.

Finellach was among them, close to his father's side. Only weeks ago a new armour was made for him, its shiny metal reflecting the light of the sun and the stars. When he came upon the orcs with the other warriors of Tol Sirion, wielding his blade powerful, skilled and deadly, using all his strength to protect those who were retreating from the already lost tower, the foul creatures recoiled from this shimmering, deadly figure. Ithil's rays were reflected by the armour and its light blinded them. "Foul light", they cried in their own black tongue, "foul light, it hurts, it pierces the eye!" Some of the elves around understood their words and they took courage from the enemy's fear of her leader's son. "Gil Galad! Our shining star has arrived!” they shouted and attacked the orcs more fiercely, even nearly drove them back to the edge of the clearing.

But then a vicious, dark power came upon them like a suffocating fume. The elves stopped, stunned by this emanation of sheer malice, and in this moment of confusion some were slain by the orcs.

They were seized with fear, even the most valiant. Nearly against their own will they retreated, slow at first, then horrified, searching for safety and protection in the woods behind the wall. They jumped on their horses which already were eager to flee, as panicked as their riders, and gave free reins.

Such ended the defence of the elves in the Pass of Sirion.

Thus Finellach gained the epessë 'Gil Galad' on that day, since in this moment he had became the radiant star for his people. And though he was defeated by the might of Sauron like all the others, by the darkness and the fear the Dark Lord spelled upon the defenders of Tol Sirion, he still recognised the thrall of Morgoth and cursed him.

With the survivors of the attack and their families Orodreth now retreated to Doriath, where they were welcomed by Thingol and Melian. Finrod's sister also lived at that time in the Hidden Realm, for she had taken a liking to Celeborn, one of Thingol's relatives, and additionally had became a student of Melian. Celeborn returned her feelings and after Thingol had prohibited the use of Quenya in his realm, Celeborn named her 'Galadriel', 'light-crowned maiden'.

She was kingly and proud and due to the arts she had learned from Melian, surrounded by a powerful aura which was frightening for everyone who didn't bear an exceptional strong will and great inner calmness himself.

She was utmost happy to see her nephew Orodreth again, even if his news grieved her. And like Melian years before she saw – though not as clearly as the queen – the hints of a great fate which lay on her grand-nephew Finellach, whom now more and more called 'Gil Galad'.

When sometimes he greeted her in his quiet manner with calm respect, it seemed oddly wrong to her, as if he shouldn't treat her like someone above him, though this was quite right with her being his senior. She couldn't understand this feeling yet, nor did she know that she sensed a presentiment of coming events.

The elves stayed at Doriath until all injured had recovered. Then they travelled to Nargothrond, where Finrod welcomed them with great relief, happy after the death of his brothers Angrod and Aegnor not to have lost his nephew likewise. For such he had feared after his sentinels brought him news of Tol Sirion's fall.

The loss of Tol Sirion was heavy on Orodreth's heart. The confidence his uncle, friend and king Finrod Felagund had shown with giving him the Pass of Sirion, always had been of great importance to him. Now he felt like having betrayed this confidence, regardless how many people – his family, the captains of his guard and even king Thingol himself – assured him that there was nothing to be done against one of the mightiest of Morgoth's servants.

In fact, Orodreth had rescued a surprisingly huge number of his people thus having every reason for relief and even pride. However, in his quiet, reserved manner he pondered about what he had decided and done and brooded long over every mistake he might have made.

This way slowly his calmness and carefulness turned into hesitation. And without noticing it Orodreth lost the faith into his own abilities. Maybe it happened due to his way of dealing with this defeat, maybe it was an after-effect of Sauron's dark power. In any case it should become determining for the fate of Nargothrond and of Beleriand as a whole.

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Chapter End Notes

 

(1) Gildor Inglorion: there are many discussions about Gildor's person, whose name 'Inglorion' means 'son of Inglor' ('Inglor' had been Finrod's name in an earlier state of Tolkien's works) and who claimed to be "of the House of Finrod" (when Finrod was named Inglor, his father Finarfin bore the name 'Finrod'). Which as far as that goes was a problem, because Gildor does not appear in any family tree.

Personally I believe that his announcement to Frodo is nothing more than a small fault of Tolkien, maybe a remnant of an old lineage he forgot to erase from the LotR.

But since the name existed, I tried to find an explanation for it. And as far as I can see, it's not impossible that 'Inglorion' is merely an epessë aiming at a significant resemblance between Gildor and Finrod. I decided for an outward likeness, since fair hair appeared seldom among the Noldor, this could be remarkable enough to explain an epessë like this.

(2) Certainly Gil Galad could not know that Aegnor would decide to stay in the halls of Mandos forever out of love for Andreth. But at this time of the story the ban was still upon the Noldor and they had to believe that they never would see Valinor again – and thus all those who left Mandos' Halls and dwelled in the Undying Land.

2nd A/N: fare thee well, Angrod and Aegnor!