A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
What did he expect from us? Did he still believe in a world where every deed was done for valor? He, himself led our armies. His lordship knew better than to expect chivalry from us.
He called us traitors. Murderers. Cowards. Murderers? We were murderers long before now. The slur lost its potency many years ago. This was not the first time our blades stained silver hair with red blood. Nor will it be the last, even though his lordship denies it.
Lord Maedhros said this time was different. They were unarmed. They were children. His lordship said it was a vile deed done from hatred. Hatred? Yes, we hate them. We hate every barbaric Sindarin whelp who threw themselves upon our swords at the request of their king.
I hate their king. Dior, The Beautiful. His life, his countenance, mocked our master. Our master, Lord Celegorm, who died by the Sindar’s hand.
Dior alone is at fault for our wrath. He is the reason his sons are lost and his wife dead. He refused to relinquish the jewel on which he held no claim.
It was our blood that crafted the gem. Our blood that protected it. Our blood that fought for its return. My master’s blood.
But it is Dior’s kingdom, his people, his life, that paid the price. What is a king without a kingdom? What is a king without an heir? I take what comfort I can knowing his line is ended, his rule is broken.
Let the girl run for now. She knows the penalty for Sindar stubbornness Dior kept the jewel from us but it was dearly bought. We made certain of that.