The Chief in a Village by Himring

Chapter 3

A Visit with Amras and Amrod

Fingon is welcomed by Amrod and Amras. A conversation he has with Amras almost makes him change his mind. Nevertheless he insists on heading off into the forest alone.

Telvo and Pityo welcomed me more warmly than I would have expected, considering I had arrived virtually unannounced.  I had departed from Barad Eithel rather precipitately, having allowed my father’s grumbling and heavy-handed hints that I ought to beget an heir first—before irresponsibly going off on extended journeys, that is—to push me into some rather pointed answers. I decided to go while the going was good, before it occurred to him that he might explicitly forbid me to leave. Taking the road south and east, I seemed to sense black clouds hanging over the Ered Wethrin behind me, and it was a while before I lost a slightly itchy feeling between my shoulder blades.

But Telvo and Pityo seemed to treat the unexplained sudden appearance of their cousin as unremarkable, except as it provided an occasion for an impromptu banquet, a hunt lasting three days and, after that, a more lavish and well-organized feast attended by a few of the more important Noldor of the district.  When I informed them, a little apologetically but firmly, that I had the intention of going on a journey of exploration by myself, they took me to a store room and insisted on re-equipping me from head to toe. I was rather startled to begin with, but soon realized that they knew what they were about. My gear was tried and tested in the border warfare of Hithlum, but I had already observed during the previous hunting trip that Pityo and Telvo had learned a lot from the Green Elves about survival in the woods of East Beleriand. I was very much impressed with the quality of their bows.

It was Telvo who saw me on my way. We walked through the fields of the small settlement above  the banks of Gelion that clustered around the manor house where we had stayed—my cousins tended to move back and forth between a number of these rather than confining themselves to a single base—and entered the woods. The road in this direction, well-kept and well-used where it entered the forest, dwindled into a mere trail before we had gone on for more than half an hour.

Telvo, who was walking a little in front of me, dressed in hunters’ green, stopped, turned and smiled at me. I understood that this was the point where he had decided we would say our farewells.

‘Thank you! I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate the hospitality you’ve showed me’, I said. ‘And you’ve showered me with gifts—I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all this!’

Telvo grinned.

‘Well, it really is in our own best interests, you know! When the time comes that our big brother hears of this and reproaches us and asks how on earth we could permit his favourite cousin to walk off all alone into the woods without so much as a single scout or guard, at least we will be able to say in our defence that we gave him the best equipment we could provide!’

He grew serious.

‘And besides, valiant cousin, you must know quite well what you did to deserve all this! We may not have thanked you, properly, ever—indeed, I’m not sure you ever really got thanked by anyone, for those who have the best manners among us were sadly distracted at the time—but none of us have forgotten what you did. Pityo and I certainly haven’t!  And, compared to that, the gift of a mere hunting-bow is a trifle not even worth mentioning.’

He looked deeply embarrassed after this outburst, but added, earnestly: ‘Good luck, Findekano! I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for, out there!’

And with that, he stepped sideways off the path and almost immediately vanished, in a manner worthy of a Doriathrin border scout or a Green Elf—as if the forest had sucked him in. I blinked, and he just wasn’t there anymore.

‘Thank you’, I called out a little uncertainly, not entirely sure whether he could still hear me.

So he believed that Russandol would start worrying about me as soon as he learned where I had gone. He was probably right, and the thought warmed my heart. Maybe I should not be heading off into the wilds like this? I was already in East Beleriand. Maybe it was finally time to visit Himring, instead?

There could be no doubt that I was indeed still Russandol’s favourite cousin. The reserve he had shown for a while after Mithrim had worn away, almost entirely so. Evidence of affection was easily come by—his letters, his visits, his gifts—and yet there remained the occasional reticence…  And he remained oddly shy about inviting me to Himring, indeed so strangely reluctant to see me there that you would have been forgiven for imagining he indulged in disreputable practices in its cellars—except that by all accounts the manner of life he led in the Marches was so blamelessly heroic as to be almost boring.

I had written to him, since Turukano’s departure, and received letters from him, but I had always hesitated to say anything to him that could be interpreted as criticism of my father, in writing or even in actual words, and I had found myself skirting an increasing number of topics, recently. I wondered what he had read between the lines. But if I went to Himring now, if I told him everything—I might not even need to spell things out and…

No. Not yet. I would go there later, afterward, as soon as I was ready.  What was all the fuss about anyway? Findarato had gone exploring all alone among the foothills of the Ered Luin, and he had been quite safe. What was likely to happen to me?

Having made up my mind, I headed deeper into the forest.