Under Bright Stars by just_jenni

Chapter 1

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"Are you one of the Valar?"

A little boy approached Finrod who sat by the fire in the middle of the clearing and tugged at the hem of his robe. His clear young eyes stared widely up at the elf, who put down his harp and smiled at the child.

"No, I am not, I'm afraid." The fairest of elves beamed his brilliant smile and patted the youngster's head. "But did you enjoy my song about them?"

The boy nodded and stuck a finger into one of his nostrils. "Um-hum, I did. Can you sing another?"

"Certainly. I will sing a glorious song about each one of the Valar separately if you like. Which one is your favorite?"

"Aule," the boy answered without hesitation.

"Fine, Aule it is then." Finrod picked up his harp. "But first, can you tell me your name?"

"It is Bregor, son of Beor," the child replied. "And what is yours?"

"I have met your father. He is a fine leader. I am called Felagund."

"Where are you from?" Bregor asked.

"I come from the place where the Valar dwell still," Finrod replied. "And now I live here in Beleriand, in a place full of caves called Nargothrond."

Bregor's eyes grew very wide.

"Do you know the Valar?"

"Only too well," Finrod replied, his lips twisting.

"Are they big and mighty?" Bregor gestured with his arms held out wide.

"Very much so."

"Can I see them some day?"

Before Finrod could reply a large man dressed in fine furs and wearing a headband of gold came forward.

"There you are, Bregor. Come - you must not bother our friend King Finrod."

"He is a king?" Bregor's eyes grew very big.

"Yes, he is, and he must not be pestered as he has many important things to do. Now, can you go and find your mother for me?" Beor gave Bregor a gentle push in the direction he wanted him to go. "Tell her that I am going to find some nice plump rabbits for our dinner tonight."

"Yes, father." Bregor reluctantly moved away, turning back to look wistfully at Finrod.

"I hope he didn't trouble you too much," Beor said apologetically. "He is an energetic lad without much to occupy himself."

"How old is he?" Finrod asked, guessing the boy to be about sixty-six in elvish years.

"Bregor recently turned six," Beor replied.

Finrod's eyes grew wide. <i>Only six! He kept forgetting that these Men lived such short lives compared to Elves.</i>

"Not at all, Beor," he said with a smile. "He was interested in the songs I was singing about my homeland and the Valar."

"He would like that, " Beor replied. "He has a wandering spirit and always speaks of the Land of the Valar. He made friends with a group of elves that we had met at our home back east, who told him what little they knew of the land called Aman."

Finrod smiled sadly, looking down at his harp. "Sometimes I miss my homeland very much and wish that certain things had not occurrred which led to my people coming here. But now that we are here we must look ahead and not back. My old life can be told in song and tale, to some satisfaction."

"I should like to know more about your homeland and people," Beor said. "If you would like to join us for supper and tell your stories and sing for us, I know Bregor would be delighted."

Finrod nodded. "Thank you, I shall be pleased to accept your invitation." He paused for a moment, his brows knitted.

"Tell me, Beor, what brought your people to Beleriand? It has been very edifying to be living among you and your kin but my people had never before been aware of your existence."

A gloomy look fell over Beor's face, his brown eyes becoming darker. Frowning, he shook his head. "It was very strange. For years we had been happy where we lived - but a feeling had come over all of us - not only our people but other clans as well - it cast a shadow over us and left us all with feelings of great fear. Whispers spread among our people - whispers of foul and dangerous things. They told us that your kind were not to be trusted and that we should always be on guard when we found ourselves with you. Where we once walked unafraid, now it seemed that shadows followed us through the trees when we walked in the woods. When we reached this place called Beleriand we were taken by its beauty and should have been satisfied to stay here. But lately my people and those of the other clans are saying that in their hearts and minds they want to go further west. They feel that something of great danger follows us."

Finrod nodded thoughtfully, quietly strumming his harp. A troubled look crossed his face as if a shade had been pulled over it. "Beor, my friend, I will come for supper tonight, bring my harp and sing songs for you. We will all sing happy songs and tell tales of wonder and beauty and be happy. But on the morrow there is a matter of great importance that I will need to discuss with you."

"Of course," Beor said, rising. "I have much interest in hearing what you have to tell me. "But for now I must hunt for the dinner I promised."

Finrod smiled and waved as Beor moved off into the forest. He then turned to his harp and began composing a new song for Beor alone, one that started with a story of poison, darkness and death.