The Great Tales of Beleriand: Definitive Edition by Chilled in Hithlum

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Parts Two: Sudden Flame & Three: Scattered Ashes

I give this chapter in two parts mainly because I like their names and feel that they go well together!  There is also a narrative between the two which centres on Finrod and Galadriel (who serves as narrator); but the main thrust of this chapter centres on the devastion and aftermath of the Dagor Bragollach - hence the titles...

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THE GREAT TALES OF BELERIAND

PART TWO: SUDDEN FLAME

East Beleriand...

[Dusk: a male rider in silhouette stops to listen as far off a gruff singing catches his
ear, and with his keen vision he spies a campfire in that direction...]

[Frowning eyes only with reflected flames] "Orcs!  But how have they ventured so far south?"

[He speeds towards the firelight...]

Voice of Galadriel: "For two hundred years and fifty the power of the Elven Lords had kept the evil of Morgoth at bay..."

[The rider halts as the singing grows louder and somewhat sweeter...] "What strange chance is this?  These words are by neither Orc nor Dwarf; and even if the Green Elves sung by night their song should be more pleasing to the ear..."

Voice of Galadriel: "It being then the three hundredth and tenth year of the First Age of the Sun..."

[Presently, the singing stops and the rider resumes...]

Voice of Galadriel: "When it was during the Long Peace on the northern reaches of fair Ossiriand the Land of Seven Rivers, that Finrod Felagund, Lord of the realm of Nargothrond, became the first among the Noldor to encounter the Younger Children of Ilúvatar ..."

[Finrod dismounts and quietly enters a secluded glade with a dying fire where a company of Men lie sleeping; he picks up a harp and begins to play, they are roused and look upon him with awe...]

Voice of Galadriel: "These new folk were the first of Three Houses to arrive thus and whom together became known as the Edain, the Elf-friends; and receiving welcome in Beleriand many young and eager Men took service with the Elven Lords..."

[The establishment of Estolad and the meeting of Fingolfin and Aradan...]

Voice of Galadriel: "The Edain prospered and settled across the northlands proving themselves valiant against the sorties of Morgoth..."

[Haleth fights alongside her father and brother...]

Voice of Galadriel: "And in after-years Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, seeing that all was good in the land contemplated an assault on Angband; for he knew that peace could not last whilst the Great Enemy endured..."

Eithel Sirion...

[Fingolfin has summoned the Noldorin Lords to the Barad Eithel; in attendance also are Cirdan of the Havens, Bregor, Halmir and Hador of the Edain and Thorondor, Lord of Eagles...]  

Fingolfin: "Smoke rises from Thangorodrim, who can tell what evil strategies Morgoth devises against us?  Have not already his Orcs grown bolder: their forays into our lands serve only as a reminder that in the far north the circle of the siege against Angband remains incomplete.  Ever the more does our foe seek to test us: if Morgoth continues to go unchallenged and unhindered then any doubt in his mind of our might against him will depart, he will become deeper in pride and more perilous!  So now I say to you Lords, whilst we are many and strong and well allied, let us be the ones to test him ere his plans against us are ripe!  What say we put an end to strife?"

Caranthir: "An end to strife?  That shall only be achieved once Morgoth lies as carrion for his beasts and the Silmarils are returned to the House of My Father!"

Fingolfin: "As I have just proposed..."

Caranthir: "It is not what you said!"

Celegorm and Curufin: "Ay!"

Maedhros: "Brothers how can we ever hope to keep our oath unaided, without ourselves lending arms in like cause when called upon by our closest kin?  Regardless of this, the High King speaks true: there has been increased activity in the far north beyond the plains of Ard-galen, our cousins Angrod and Aegnor have documented much in this report before us, we must strike now while time is!"

Caranthir: "So you would place more stock in this foolhardy proposal to risk all that we have built and strived for than the fulfilment of our Father's wishes?"

Fingolfin: "Caranthir, ever does the shadow of this rash oath blight your words; but you must remember that the matter of this danger concerns all Beleriand and not just one family‘s campaign!"

Caranthir: "Maybe so, but the matter of the oath concerns the Sons of Fëanor only; and sooner than aught else we would look to it!"    

Celegorm, Curufin and Amrod: "Yea!"

[Caranthir looks darkly on Maedhros and Maglor...]

Maedhros and Maglor: "Agreed!"

Fingon: "Cousins, nay Brothers all: the necessity is grave, pray be rational!"

Curufin: "And pray tell Fingon, where is thy brother Turgon; squirreling away behind some rocks no doubt, whosoever knows where?"

[General smirking and derision, Cirdan and Thorondor share a glance of disdain...]

Fingolfin: "ENOUGH, YOUR PETTINESS DISPLEASES THIS ASSEMBLY!"

Maedhros: "...and shames the House of Finwë!"

[Abashed silence...]

Finrod: "I too share in my cousins' anxiety, if not their humour; all here present have invested their love and labour into this land over many years, for myself I would not endanger my realm or indeed any other province on the off-chance that Morgoth may not be fully equipped to withstand us - why provoke him?"

[General agreement...]

Bregor: "If I may My Lords, the document from Dorthonion goes unread and there is much in these pages that should give you pause!"

Aegnor: "Thank you Bregor, the High King assures me that copies shall be distributed to each house here represented!"

Halmir: "We have the friendship of the March-wardens of Thingol, might we pass a duplicate on to them?"

Fingolfin: "I have no quarrel with Thingol: I see no reason against it..."

Caranthir: "There is no need for any of that young Halmir, there are a select few already at hand that shall run directly to Thingol's doorstep in Doriath reporting the doings of this assembly; even though it is your valiant folk that are kept apart from those lofty halls and left outside to defend the passes!"

[Cirdan rises to speak, looking sternly upon Caranthir...]

Cirdan: "I alone shall apprise Lord Elwë of what transpires here today and trust me, O Dark-head, I shall not run; the Sindar are not so hasty, moreover we brook not such rash tongues in the presence of kings!  Therefore by your leave Lord Fingolfin, I would add to what Finrod has said in that my mariners have regularly ventured north to the coasts beyond Lammoth and there are no evil gatherings to the west as there have been before.  This would suggest that no assault should befall Hithlum any time soon, if indeed Morgoth has such plans; of course given your concerns we shall monitor this more closely and I will inform you of any change..."

Fingolfin: "Those are good tidings indeed Lord Cirdan, your presence distinguishes these halls; please tell Thingol that I am more than happy to share any news with Menegroth concerning our common foe.  Though alas I fear however that there are many other routes that the Enemy might take should he decide to come in force..."

Voice of Galadriel: "The echo of Fingolfin's words to that assembly would endure long after their utterance, for never again would the time be so ripe to fulfil his plan and never again would the bond between those that opposed Morgoth be as strong..."

Present day...

The Realm of Nargothrond...

Voice of Galadriel: "And alas, for the sake of a few more years of peace... Fingolfin's wisdom went unheeded."  

[A party of Elves ride in entourage along the hilly western bank of the River Narog, they reach a great doorway hewn out of living rock where they are received with honour and gladly admitted...]

Finrod's chamber...

Finrod: "Sister, what a delight to see you; it has been far too long..."

[They embrace...]

Galadriel: "I came as I could..."

Finrod: "And most welcome you are; pray, what brings you?"

Galadriel: "This!"

[She hands Finrod a bound document...]

Finrod: "Ah yes, I have seen this before it is the report Angrod and Aegnor compiled for Fingolfin; I still have my copy somewhere..."

Galadriel: "Open it!"

[He so does and a number of loose leafs cascade on to the floor, as he stoops to pick them up he jolts back seeing a scattering of finely drawn sketches of his siblings and other family members strewn at his feet...]

Finrod: "Is this Angrod's handiwork?"

Galadriel: [with a cracking voice] "Yes!"

[The pages are gathered up with care and laid out on a table; they stand abreast, arms to shoulder, perusing their brother's drawings in silence ...]

Three winters ago...

The Realm of Nargothrond...

[Morning: two riders arrive with great urgency at the Great Gate...]

Finrod's chamber...

Gwindor: "My Lord Finrod, great evil has been done this night.  The Siege is ended and the Enemy has sent forth such fire has as never before been seen; Ard-galen is all but gone to ash and the northlands are ablaze, alas it is reported that Dorthonion has taken the most direct and heaviest onslaught..."

Finrod: [horrified] "My Brothers!"

[They depart in haste...]

The previous night...

Ard-galen and Lothlann: with the peaks of Thangorodrim in the middle distance...

[From east to west across the plains legions of armoured Orcs stand in evenly spaced rows with wide gaps between them stretching all the way back to Angband.  At alternates in the rear of each channel there are immense catapults manned by Orcs and huge vat-like rolling barrows with outfacing spouts attended by Balrogs; each device contains a black pitch-like paste, although the catapults are well stocked at the sides with squat cylinders holding liquid magmata.  

Glaurung the Golden, Father of all Dragons, emerges in his full might out of Angband; he passes along from far western flank to his place in the vanguard on the eastern front at Lothlann, igniting each pitch fuelled machine of war as he goes.  At his signal the captains give the order down the line of attack, "FIRE... FIRE..."

First the catapults discharge their fire spraying bouncing-cylinders and the Balrogs proceed at full pelt with their barrows spewing; the Orcs advance un-scorched along the dry gullies whilst Glaurung burns all before him.  Many unsuspecting Elves and Men are engulfed immediately, such is the speed and deadly precision of the attack... there is fighting on many fronts all that night and well into the next day.]

The Pass of Sirion...

[Afternoon: Finrod and his company approach the Fen of Serech with great caution, to their rear and along the angle of the Ered Wethrin upon their west flank all is desolate but ahead they see that there is still battle at Barad Eithel, meanwhile on the eastern flank just beyond the Echoriath black smoke rises from Dorthonion...]

Finrod: "It is as I feared, Fingolfin is beset at Eithel Sirion; I only hope that the riders of Fingon were able to assist by my brethren in time..."

Gwindor: "There is only one way to be sure, Lord, though I dread what my eyes are about to see!"

Finrod: "Ay, as do we all; Gelmir, take your scouts and circumnavigate the fen, Gwindor you and the archers are with me!"

[Scarcely as the company detaches it is ambushed by Orcs concealed in the wetlands, and being outnumbered the Elves are driven asunder.  Finrod's personal guards exchange arms valiantly, although the greater number of foes fall upon Gelmir's division snaring them with nets and spears; Gwindor watches helplessly as his brother is felled and taken.  The assault is great and Finrod is pressed almost to the point of yielding but there comes aid unlooked for with the arrival of battle-hardened Men out of Dorthonion led by Barahir, Son of Bregor.  They form a ring of spears about the King of Nargothrond and his remaining companions whilst hacking their way out the fray; at length the Orcs are overpowered and are slain, however the greater part of them have already absconded with their haul of prisoners...]

Finrod: "Barahir, what news of my brothers?"

Barahir: "Only that my company were ordered forth to stay any assault on the western marches: the lords Angrod and Aegnor remained with my brother Bregolas and the greater part of our combined forces to confront the main onslaught, otherwise I have heard naught else..."

Finrod: "Was there any cavalry out of Hithlum?"

Barahir: "Nay Lord, the plains were destroyed from the sources of Sirion to the arms of Gelion; it was as though the very mouths of hell had swallowed them whole with lightning speed ..."

Finrod: "The sons of Fëanor are beset too?"

Barahir: "That would be my guess...

Finrod: "You must lead me to my brothers at once, ere they are overrun!"

Barahir: "Nay Lord, you must go back while time is; it is midwinter and will become
dark soon and I fear that the battle goes ill with Fingolfin, this place will soon be swollen with foes..."

Finrod: "I will not forsake them: I demand an escort!"

Barahir: "Then I must decline!"

Finrod: "Am I not still regent in this land?"

Barahir: "Thou art so: but in battle I have the command and my first duty is to protect my sovereign and the second is to defend my land.  Was not that law lain down by thy very hand when you granted my forefathers their own province?"

Finrod: "So you would use formalities against me?"

Barahir: "Nay Lord, not formalities but an edict written in peacetime to come into effect in such days as these!  I share in your anxiety for I too have kin facing an uncertain fate..."

Gwindor: "As do I..."

Barahir: "Please Lord, help me in my first duty so that I might perform the second!"

Finrod: "You sons of Bëor are all alike, you melt my heart: very well I shall do as you command but you must send word to Nargothrond as soon as you are able!"

Barahir: [kneeling before Finrod] "Thank you, My Lord!"

[They are interrupted by the sound of fighting spreading south from Eithel Sirion...]

Barahir: "There is need of haste..."

[Finrod removes his ring...]

Finrod: "Hear me all, I henceforth swear an oath of aid in every need to Barahir and all his kin; in token of this I bestow to him my ring, let anybody who comes baring this ring know of the abiding friendship between my house and his!"

Present day...

Nargothrond...

[Finrod and Galadriel are still looking at Angrod's pictures...]

Galadriel: "It is interesting that both document and sketches reached Menegroth in this present format only recently, moreover it was hand delivered to Thingol by Beleg, the Chief-warden of the March, who in turn received it by means of Halmir of Brethil..."    

Finrod: "Strange indeed!"

Galadriel: "Hmm, what is more there is a note here on the endpaper..."

LORD BREGOR,

THANK YOU FOR YOUR EFFORTS IN COLLATING THE INFORMATION GATHERED ON THE PAGES HEREIN.  ALAS, IT SEEMS NOW THAT YOUR HARD WORK WILL NOT BE PUT TO GOOD USE.  PLEASE FIND MY SCATTERED THOUGHTS ANNOTATED ON THE MARGINS, I HOPE THAT THEY MAY PROVE OF INTEREST TO YOU.

YOURS IN SERVICE

FINGOLFIN, HKN

Finrod: "Ah, the Doom of Mandos befalls us again; if only I had not been so vocal and eager to preserve the work of my hands..."

Three winters ago...

The Barad Eithel...

[Fingolfin watches in dismay from his balcony as his troops are pushed back towards the mountains of Ered Wethrin; beneath him a company of Men defend the open gates so that the fleeing Elves might re-enter the fortress...]

Hador: "The fighting in the east must have gone ill; otherwise Morgoth has sent more reinforcements against us.  Galdor my son, take five bodyguards to protect King Fingolfin!"

Galdor: "But Father, surely the King would have us maintain our strength here; besides Lord Fingon has not yet returned..."

Hador: "Peril deepens the longer this gate remains open and our first duty is to the King; go, there is no time to quibble!"  

[There is great noise as Fingon's returning cavalry joins the fray cutting a swathe through the enemy and hemming in those about the doorway...]

Gundor: "Look brother, deliverance is at hand..."

Hador: "Do not fret Son, you shall see us again: go now and do as I say!"

[The departure of Galdor and his company weakens the resistance at the gate and the defenders are hard pressed in the swell.  Moreover, the advance of Fingon is subdued by sheer weight of numbers and the arrival of a Balrog flaying tongues of fire indiscriminately, thrashing all about it be they friend or foe.  Now, by ill chance the flaming whip catches the rump of Fingon's horse, and in horror Fingolfin witnesses his son's collapse into the seething horde; but amid all that calamity the Balrog suddenly stops dead turning its head to listen, and as though answering a call from afar it turns to flight leaving the battle with such rapidity that for a brief moment the going is barely noticed.  Remarkably, Fingon manages to fight his way to the still opened gate...]

Fingon: "Lord Hador, where is my father the King?"

[Hador points up to the balcony but Fingolfin is gone...]

Hador: "I sent Galdor and five others to protect him; ere you came it seemed apparent that we could not hold the gate open for much longer..."

Fingon: "I fear that may still be the instance!"

[Galdor reaches Fingolfin's empty chamber...]

Galdor: "Find the King!"

[As his men disperse there is heard a loud clang as the gate is closed: Galdor rushes to the balcony, there he sees the turning of the tide as the combined forces of Elves and Men massacre the remaining Orcs that did not flee once the Balrog deserted them.  Alas, however he also witnesses in that battle the fall of his father and brother... the words of Hador echo in his head, "DO NOT FRET SON, YOU SHALL SEE US AGAIN!"  

A heavily armoured rider emerges in wrath out of the livery, hacking his way into the fray none can withstand him; but instead of joining the battle he turns north towards the charred plain and the Iron Mountains, where beyond stands Angband...]

Angband...

[The rider stops and dismounts at the threshold of a long causeway leading to the Brazen Doors of Angband...]

Fingolfin: "Here at last, Rochallor, we come to our journey's end; return as you might to Hithlum and if by the Grace of Ilúvatar my unsaddled son survives then you must serve him as you have me... farewell my mighty steed!"

[Fingolfin strides defiantly towards Morgoth's front door sounding a horn to announce his presence...]

Fingolfin: "Morgoth, Morgoth come forth!"

[He smites the door...]

Fingolfin: "Fingolfin is here and he challenges you: come forth!"

[After a prolonged silence he re-sounds his horn...]

Fingolfin: "Morgoth, be thou afraid?"

[He pounds the door again...]

Fingolfin: "Fingolfin, thy sworn enemy comes without company to face thee on thy own doorstep: wouldst thou cower before the faces of thine own captains?  Come now thou Craven King, thou Lord of Slaves; come and meet me here in mortal combat!"

[The ground shakes beneath him amid distant shrieks of terror and thundering footfalls, drawing nearer; at length the doors swing open revealing the leviathan frame of a bulked out Morgoth in heavy black armour wielding his mighty mace, Grond, and in his train comes a multitude of Orcs and many other misshapen beasts beside.  The towering Lord of Angband removes his helm and discards it, looking scornfully upon the Elf: Fingolfin stands firm...]

Morgoth: "Fool, why hast thou come?"  

Fingolfin: "To see thy true face and not that sham disguise you presented in Valinor, and I have come to see thee destroyed!"

Morgoth: "Ha, ha, ha: and what chance is there of that?  See the force I have about me Fingolfin, whilst you stand before them - friendless!  What is to prevent me from ordering them to set thee in bonds, to misuse you as a plaything in my dungeons: what is to stop me from rearranging thee... into one of them?"

Fingolfin: "Application and Pride!"

[A scandalized gasp by those assembled and Morgoth lets loose with Grond upon Fingolfin who manages to jump clear...]

Fingolfin: "Another missed opportunity!"

[Morgoth stays his hand...]

Morgoth: "What mean you by that?"

Fingolfin: "In this very hour your vile company could had the victory at Barad Eithel but for whatever reason you recalled the Valaraukar and the assault was stemmed; who now stands the fool?"

[Morgoth's face contorts with rage and he unleashes a volley of erratic blows with Grond that completely miss, and Fingolfin is able to inflict hurt upon his foe; seven wounds cause Morgoth to cry out seven times.  Enraged, Morgoth pounds Fingolfin with his iron shield knocking him flat three times.  At the last stroke the Elven King falls backward into an impact pit caused by Grond and Morgoth stamps and crushes him underfoot; however, in his last desperate act Fingolfin takes up his sword and hews off his enemy's foot causing him to tumble like a mighty oak at the axe-man's kiss.  They both scramble wildly but the Dark Lord's reach is longer and he snatches the broken Elf with a burnished claw, and in sight of a pack of ravening Wolves he smashes the Elven Lord hard against the rocky face of his outer walls.  In an instant, from out of nowhere Thorondor descends upon Morgoth, and with razor-like talons he deeply grooves his face almost blinding him; and denying the Wolves, the Lord of Eagles bares up the lifeless body of the High King of the Noldor and carries him away to Gondolin into the sorrowing arms of his son Turgon...]        

Present day...

Nargothrond...

Galadriel: "Do not blame yourself for hoping to preserve your realm Finrod, after all were you not instructed by the Lord of Waters himself to seek out such a place as this; moreover, you are not responsible for the decisions of another, as your own regent I should expect you to know this!  I advise you to read this volume afresh as Fingolfin advised the long departed Bregor.  Here you will find that he had it long in his mind to take the course of action that led to his doom, although for myself I cannot deign to understand why he would do it..."

Finrod: "You are a wise counsellor!"

Galadriel: "I am your sister!"

PART THREE: SCATTERED ASHES

Three winters ago...

Dorthonion...

[The northern forests blaze without constraint; legions of Orcs remain unharmed in their specially treated armour whilst many citizens of that land both Elves and Men succumb to the flames...]

Voice of Galadriel: "None had ever considered such an assault of this nature but there was strength in arms in Beleriand; and this was especially true in Dorthonion, whose lords had long considered the danger posed by Morgoth unconstrained.  However, given its proximity to Angband and the open spaces that lay between them the heaviest onslaught fell there..."

[The companies of Angrod and Aegnor are utterly defeated, and also those of House of Bëor whose chief, Bregolas, falls in battle beside the Elven Lords...]

Voice of Galadriel: "Only those engaged on the western front survived..."

[Recap: Barahir's Men rescue Finrod...]

Voice of Galadriel: "And only those that dwelt in the southern and eastern outliers were able to flee or hide themselves away..."

Himlad...

The Pass of Aglon...    

Voice of Galadriel: "But there was also heavy fighting to the east where the Sons of Fëanor were hard put to it..."

[Celegorm and Curufin are pressed back and forced to flee south...]

Himring...

Voice of Galadriel: "Yet there was great valour in that region too..."

[Maedhros defends his citadel with the aid of those fleeing Dorthonion, and though he arrives too late to aid his brothers he repels the Orcs at Aglon...]  

Thargelion...

Voice of Galadriel: "Although the power of Morgoth could not be wholly undone!"

[Glaurung with his entourage breaches Maglor's Gap and defiles the land.  The Dragon enters the stronghold of Caranthir causing him to flee...

Abstract scene: amid fire and carnage figures run erratically hither and thither, Maedhros comes forward and turns his head aside in dismay, behind him is a fleet of burning ships.  Suddenly a pair of hands begin to pull at him desperately, he turns about to see his younger brother Amrod in distress; flames whip up about the face of Fëanor's youngest son and he burns horribly before our eyes...]  

The settlement at Ramdal...

[Amrod wakes with a start; a herald has entered his bedchamber...]

Herald: "My Lord, your brothers have come and demand your presence!"

[Dawn: Amrod, Celegorm, Curufin and Caranthir step out on to a pavilion, below on the foothills there is gathered a huge populace...]

Curufin: "Amrod is right, we cannot hope to house so many in these hills..."

Caranthir: "Surely by the skill of our hands we shall build new homes here, protected under the shadow of Andram..."

Amrod: "But there is precious little arable land hereabouts!"

Caranthir: "There is a mighty forest on our doorstep with fertile ground a-plenty; we could carve out a great society to the profit of all, away from any peril in the north..."

Amrod: "The woods of Taur-im-Duinath are wild with many Dark Elves wandering; I doubt that neither tree nor Sindar could be tamed and I doubt all the more that they would withstand any attempt, howsoever noble your intent!"

Caranthir: "The trees stretch back as far as the eye can see; indeed the northern marches appear to be deserted..."

Amrod: "Nay Caranthir, this action would bring war upon us!"

Caranthir: "Then where shall we go?"

[At this the Great Hound, Huan, leaves his master's side; he trots to the far end of the pavilion flopping his forepaws over the western railing and bays loudly into the air, his howls resound down the long rocky wall of Andram and all eyes turn that way...]

Celegorm: "Look brothers our road is in front of us, Nargothrond lies straight ahead beyond the Andram Wall!  Finrod is always urging us to visit and often tells of the plentiful dwelling space in those caverns..."

[Celegorm rigorously pets his canine companion with many a ‘Good Boy!']  

Curufin: "Ay, and it only need be a temporary measure until we regroup and..."

Caranthir: "No!"

Curufin: "What now?"

Caranthir: "I would rather retry the Fire Drake than grovel for shelter at the door of one who fawns at the flattery of a king of other lineage, howsoever tenuous that kinship!"

Celegorm: "Not this Thingol issue again?"

Caranthir: "Are we not already cast in the role of unwelcome immigrants by Thingol?  And even now we are told that we dare not touch the feral forest occupied by his deportees... ooh, lest the Grey Ones be offended: bah!"

Celegorm: "Nargothrond is the best solution..."

Caranthir: "And one that I shall not consent to!"

Amrod: "Caranthir, you know that all my kindred are welcome to stay here for as long as they need, brothers, cousins or nephews; but if Finrod is able to help with housing the rest of these folk then surely it would make sense to... you know?"

Caranthir: "You are so like to Our Maedhros little brother, and of course you are right!  Celegorm, Curufin, take your people to Nargothrond; I feel certain that our virtuous and valiant cousin will receive you all gladly, for myself I will not abandon the east!  Amrod, if you are willing to house but some of my folk I shall remove yonder to Amon Ereb and maintain a watch on our brothers in the north..."

Amrod, Celegorm and Curufin: "Agreed!"   

Nargothrond (and the Northlands)...

[Celegorm and Curufin are met at the gate of Felagund's halls by a young Northman baring an Elven ring who also seeks admission therein...]

Voice of Galadriel: "And so it was with the coming of the Sons of Fëanor that the ranks of Nargothrond were swelled and fortified..."

[Finrod openheartedly embraces his cousins...]

Voice of Galadriel: "But to the north, the shadow of the power of Morgoth covered the land completely: save only in the places where resistance remained strong..."

[Under the banner of High King of the Noldor, Fingon rides in cavalry to the aid of his cousin Maedhros; many Orcs are slain or driven back...]

Voice of Galadriel: "And in Dorthonion, Barahir would not flee from the face the Enemy!"

[The young man and a company of Elves depart from Nargothrond with Finrod's blessing and head north...]

Dorthonion...

[Dusk: Barahir addresses the remnant of his people...]

Barahir: "Morgoth has not before recked with the valour of Men, at least not with the Houses of the Edain; he knows not that above aught else we desire the freedom to control our own fates..."

Emeldir: "Hear, hear: well said husband!"

[He holds aloft a tattered piece of parchment...]

Barahir: "You have all seen these nailed to our once beautiful trees; who amongst you is tempted by the false offers scrawled upon them that I will not give air to, which of you is willing to betray our Elven friends in return for of perfunctory power under his dominion that translates to little more than a life of thraldom?"

The Folk of Bëor: "NONE OF US!"

[Collective cheering as he rips up the parchment...]

Barahir: "The peaceful days of Angrod and Aegnor are gone: for even now their surviving elites have joined with Maedhros, and I am happy to report that with the aid of the new High King the Elven warriors are pushing back our foes..."

[More cheering...]

Barahir: "However my heart misgives me, for I believe that Morgoth will not stop until all free-folk are wiped clean from the face of Beleriand!  Moreover, I readily forfeit that given the vehemence in which he struck this land it is we that shall always be hit first and hardest, and with our numbers dwindling fast I do not know how long we can hold out against him..."

[A solemn hush descends: Beren steps forward... ]

Beren: "As many of you know I have recently returned from Nargothrond, where it was my sad duty to inform Lord Finrod of the loss of his brothers and to apprise him of the dire situation here..."

[The scene changes to Nargothrond... an ashen-faced Finrod raises from his seat and with faltering steps he leans against a table; the room falls silent.]

Curufin: "Rightly they call your kind Inscrutable and Heavy-handed; one simply does not drop by and announce to a Noldo that his closest kin is dead, be gone this is a delicate matter best dealt with by the Eldar!"

Beren: "Apologies Lords, I meant no offence; I shall leave you to your grief!"

Celegorm: "Hmm, I think it would be best!"

Finrod: "No, please there is no need for that!  Cousins I thank you for your concern and we shall speak more together later; but I implore you not to rebuke this young man, for indeed he comes by my command with the news that I knew in my heart but long dreaded to hear.  So if you might leave us alone for but a few moments..."

[Celegorm and Curufin rise to leave, feigning poorly any lack of offence taken; their disdainful manner increases when they notice the Elven ring worn by Beren...]

Beren: "Forgive me Lord Finrod, I am ill apt to your customs concerning de---, the passing of Elves; indeed it is a thing unheard of amongst my folk..."

Finrod: "Then as is my regard, in this matter you must hold yourself blameless.  Now pray tell, what news other do you bring?"    

[Beren produces a sealed note and hands it to Finrod: it reads...]

MY LORD FINROD,

SON OF FINARFIN, SOVEREIGN KING OF BOTH NARGOTHROND AND DORTHONION,

MAY I FIRST CONVEY MY DEEPEST SORROW WITH THE NEWS OF THE PASSING OF YOUR MOST NOBLE BROTHERS, OUR LORDS ANGROD AND AEGNOR; IN ADDITION I AM MOST GRIEVED TO INFORM YOU THAT THE BURDEN OF RESPONSIBILITY HELD BY BREGOLAS MY BROTHER NOW PASSES TO ME, AND IT IS IN THIS CAPACITY THAT I WRITE TO YOU NOW.  

ALL THE ELVES THAT SURVIVED THE INITIAL ONSLAUGHT UPON OUR LAND DEPARTED TO JOIN FORCES WITH MAEDHROS AND HAVE NOW FORSAKEN THIS LAND, AND SINCE WE ARE ALL THAT REMAIN HERE IT FALLS UPON ME GATHER UP THE REMNANT OF MY FOLK; ALAS THEREFORE, I AM UNABLE TO PRESENT THESE TIDINGS IN PERSON AND I SEND MY SON BEREN IN MY STEAD.  AS HEAD OF MY PEOPLE IT IS MY PRIMARY DUTY TO INFORM YOU OF OUR DESIRE TO REMAIN IN DORTHONION AND FIGHT TO PRESERVE IT, IF NEED BE TO VERY THE LAST OF US.  THIS WE WILL ONLY DO BY YOUR GOOD GRACES AND I PATIENTLY AWAIT YOUR RESPONSE ON THIS MATTER.

YOURS IN FEALTY

BARAHIR, SON OF BREGOR.

Finrod: "Has your father discussed the contents of this letter with you?"

Beren: "Yes, and with many more of us beside; we are all in agreement with him..."

Finrod: "Since you speak for your father then I give to you, Beren, my consent; although I would counsel against such action without strength of numbers.  Morgoth will not relent in hunting you down, his actions prove that he realises that Dorthonion offers strategic high ground, right in the very heart of the northlands, with multiple passes to provide ease of movement for his forces..."

[The scene returns to Dorthonion...]

Gorlim: "Then does Finrod abandon us with naught but dry ash to fuel our hope?"

Beren: "Nay Gorlim, I have more; King Finrod sent me forth to Tol Sirion and Lord Orodreth, a petition for our aid was then delivered from there to Barad Eithel; and Fingon has granted us this grace..."  

[He produces a manuscript and unfolds it...]

Beren: "I am told that duplicates are to be sent to the village halls of all free-folk; here read it for yourselves!"

[He pierces the parchment on a stuck out nail in a nearby post: it reads...]

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE HIGH KING: A DECREE.

I FINGON, SON OF FINGOLFIN, LORD OF HITHLUM AND HIGH KING OF THE NOLDOR, HEREBY STATE:

I DULY ACKNOWLEDGE AND ACCEPT THE INDEPENDENCE OF DORTHONION AS LAIN DOWN BY ITS FORMER REGENT, FINROD, SON OF FINARFIN, AND THAT DOMINION THEREOF NOW PASSES TO BARAHIR, SCION OF BËOR'S HOUSE, AND HIS DESCENDANTS.  THE VALOUR OF ALL THREE HOUSES OF THE EDAIN SHALL HENCEFORTH BE RECOGNISED IN THIS MY BOND; ANY WHOSE HOMES ARE BESET BY PERIL WILL FIND WELCOME IN MY PROVINCE AND NEW ACCOMMODATION HEREIN FOR HOWSOEVER LONG THEY WOULD KEEP IT, THE DECISION WHETHER TO REMAIN OR DEPART MY LANDS SHALL BE WAIVED BY THE KING, LEST IT BE A MATTER OF LAW!

IN SERVICE

FINGON, HKN      

Barahir: "My friends, I know that there is much to digest here but time is short and we must act swiftly and decisively.  We know not when the Enemy with strike again but know this: if Dorthonion is lost then our once beautiful land will become perverted into a place of dark enchantment, but if we are to preserve and rebuild this Free-State of ours then we must change our tactics and make war by stealth, this we cannot do whilst trying to maintain our homes as well!  Therefore while time is I have decided to accept the High King's offer and all of our women and children shall be sent to the safety of Hithlum at first light tomorrow; those who are able shall remain and fight!"

Emeldir: "Ay, and I shall fight beside thee!"

Barahir: "Nay, there shall be no exceptions!"

[Night falls: There is much muttering and fear throughout as families and loved ones cling together...]
 

The home of Barahir...

Barahir: "It grieves my heart also to be parted from you in this way, Emeldir; but you must remember, you are now The Lady of Dorthonion and your first duty lies with the continuance our people!"

Emeldir: "What hope is there in such continuity?  Surely, if we remain in Hithlum then the lineage of the House of Bëor will become mingled and forgotten!" 

Barahir: "Which would you prefer Lady, mingled or naught?"

Emeldir: "Neither, either, aught nor naught; what kind choices are these?"

[She begins to weep: Barahir embraces her...]

Barahir: "Perhaps it will not our fate to govern here in freedom but it is our right to attempt it; however, if a Lord and Lady cannot preserve from peril as many of those in their charge as possible then surely that right is lost!  I entreat you, my beloved, please do not let our parting be made under sufferance; for if you cause it then I will command you!"

The home of Gorlim...

Gorlim: "Eilinel, we cannot abscond; I am a soldier in Barahir's own company like my father before me, imagine the shame it would bring upon us..."

Eilinel: "We have been married barely a year, I will not be parted from you!"

Gorlim: "Please listen to reason, you will be safe in Hithlum..."

Eilinel: "Yes, but can you warrant that we shall be together again?"

Gorlim: "You that know I cannot; come now, that is not fair!"

Eilinel: "Not fair, in that at least you right: I will not go to Hithlum!"

Gorlim: "And I will not abandon my lord!"

Eilinel: "Then there is only one choice, I shall remove south to my grandmother's old house in the high forests overlooking Dor Dínen, and there I shall await you."

Gorlim: "But that place is so remote and lonesome..."

Eilinel: "Then be sure to be posted as far south as you possibly can!"

Gorlim: "Can this work?"

Eilinel: "It must!"

[They embrace...]

Eilinel: "Now quickly, help me load the cart; I must be away ere the Sun rises!"

[The following morning: the sorrowing folk of Dorthonion embark on their great departure; Gorlim in uniform trails in the rearguard, looking back over his shoulder at times in the direction that his young wife will have taken...]

 

 

 

 

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Chapter End Notes