Alagor to Daeredhel by hennethgalad

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Fanwork Notes

Fanwork Information

Summary:

A letter from one friend of Dior to another.

Dior, in trouble with his parents, is sent to Menegroth.

 

      (comes after 'Concerning Dior' and 'for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come ?' )

Major Characters: Beren, Dior, Lúthien Tinúviel

Major Relationships:

Genre: General

Challenges: 30-Day Character Study

Rating: General

Warnings:

This fanwork belongs to the series

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 504
Posted on 29 December 2017 Updated on 29 December 2017

This fanwork is complete.

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

Alagor to Daeredhel.

 

 

 

The Riversmeet Tavern

Sarn Athrad

Ossiriand

Middle-Earth

Arda

The Void

Midyear's Day 487

Sunset.

 

Dearest Daeredhel, 

  I hope your mother is less angry by now. I hope my mother is less angry by now, but that is unlikely, alas... But I still do not see what else we could have done, and Helin said that it may be that it is not us that they are angry with. But it feels as bad, when they look at you like that. I wish... oh, I do not know, I suppose it is foolish to wish that things were otherwise, but still, I wish ! 

  Do you see the address ? Do you ? Can you believe it ? Only seventeen years old and already on my way to Menegroth ! Helin is sure that you will be sent after us but that is why I asked about your mother. You must write to me as soon as you know, though please address all future correspondence to Menegroth ! Menegroth ! Truly, if you could see me dancing with delight, nay, glee, whenever I remember our destination... Well, I know you feel the same (I am certain that your mother will permit you to join us !) though you will not show it, and will be just as excited as I am to see Sarn Athrad. 

 It is a lovely town, full of strange people of all three Races; there are Mortals here, in this very Tavern, and I even saw one of their aged, a woman so frail it was a wonder that she could walk at all. It is awful to think that this will be the fate of our lord and lady. I cannot bear to think of the beautiful Lúthien being blemished in any way, much less withered by time, or... or gone, like one of Them.

 Well, long may such things be kept from us ! But there is no need for me to tell you of Sarn Athrad, for soon, I am certain, you shall see it for yourself, and write a long poem about the warm honey-coloured stone of the buildings and the chestnut trees that are everywhere here. 

  I can see you grimace... it is his Mortal blood, you know it is, he has become an adult while we are still children. There is nothing to be done but wait, we shall grow as tall as he has, eventually. Well, not quite as tall, I mean to say... he may grow as tall as his grandfather and nobody is as tall as Thingol. By the void, Daeredhel, I shall meet Thingol himself in two days ! It is beyond belief ! 

 

 I know you will want to hear what happened after your mother dragged you away. I am terrified of your mother, her voice seems to cut like diamond... They both stayed calm, old Beren just froze really, staring out of the window as if he were alone. I suppose he is, there are none of his kind to turn to, but then, poor Dior, and poor Lúthien... 

 Dior is downstairs, I can hear his laugh - do you remember when his voice first suddenly changed, and for a moment he sounded just like his father, then it went back to normal ? Now he is downstairs, drinking mead like the adults, though really truly he is only as old as we are ! I feel much more impatient about the whole thing, especially now that we have seen a bit of the world. Tol Galen is so small, but it has been all the world to us until now. She will let you come ! She must ! 

 Sorry. You know me, always using ten words when one would do.

 

 Lúthien was cold and quiet for a long time, still as stone, it was frightening to watch. Dior was trying to stand as still as her, but he was in so much turmoil that his heartbeat became fast and I could hear his quick breaths. Ha, I could hear my own quick breaths... You know what she is like. But honestly, I thought, if only she had shouted at Morgoth maybe she would have just scared him to death ! Ha, not really...

 Anyway, eventually she looked at me and said 'Tell me again.'

   We had to tell them ! It was wrong, it was too much, anyway, I think they agree, and so does Helin, she told me... wait, I already wrote this. Sorry.

 So I had to tell Lúthien, in front of Dior, and Beren, how we had missed Dior at breakfast so many times that we had followed him to find out where he was going. I had to, we had to ! We had to know, and we had to tell them !

 I told her of the meeting of Dior with the Tribe of the Robin, and of how they had led Dior to that stone chair cut into the hillside, and how they had danced and sung for him, and of how they had knelt before him, and then... I told her all that we saw, but I could not look at Dior, her eyes held me as solid as a stone, and I could not have looked at him even had I dared... He has been polite, but formal; he will not speak of the matter, and I dare not speak. Truly, if it were not for the calm, familiar presence of Helin, I would be miserable without you, and everyone else ! No, that is untrue, I would still be here, on my way to Menegroth ! 

 

( Sorry, I get distracted... A Mortal just brought some wine, he had hair on his upper lip, which hung down below his chin on either side of his mouth, but his lower lip, his chin and his cheeks were shaven, and really, he looked so strange... )

 

But Lúthien finally stirred when I had fallen silent, and turned her head slowly to Beren, who seemed to feel her movement, and turned himself to face her. They looked long at each other, and the small sounds of the air in the trees became loud to my ears. Beside me, Dior had gone very still, his breathing, and his heartbeat quieted, whether by his will, or by his love and trust in his parents, I cannot yet say, for he will not speak to me, nor hear my words, save with the politeness of a stranger, and I am already miserable and wretched to be so far from home; to have him angry with me breaks my heart. Oh Daeredhel ! I miss you already ! 

 We had to tell them ! What could we do ? They had to know ! 

 

I could not imagine what Lúthien and Beren said with their eyes as they gazed at each other. Romantic stuff, I suppose. But she turned back to me after a while and said "We are grateful to you for bringing this to our attention. We had heard rumours that a cult had formed within the Tribe of the Robin, but we had no knowledge of the involvement of Dior. 

 The Children of Eru Ilùvatar do not engage in such folly. Only the Enemy requires worship. Though I am certain that no shadow of the Enemy has touched Tol Galen, you will both leave this isle tonight, and travel to Menegroth, where my mother and father, and those of the Wise who dwell there, shall instruct you in the ways of the Elves, beyond the reach of your new acquaintances."

 

 Then she looked at Dior, with a kind of pity, and spoke to him

 "Your Mortal blood is stirring in you. These people may slake your thirst, but their drink is foul. My father has been foster-father to a Mortal, and has known your own father. He will guide your steps. You have leave to go."

 

It was really shocking. I really thought she was just going to send him away, just like that, and he did too, though he said nothing. We left quietly, and he looked at me for a moment, and I thought, I hoped, that he would laugh and say something ordinary. But he just lowered his eyelids a little, not a frown, just a look of... I really do not know... a Mortal look, perhaps. 

 

 But she came, with Beren, to see us off, and quite a crowd gathered, you know how everyone loves Dior. There were even some of the Robins there, but none of the ones we saw in the clearing that day. 

 I cannot stop thinking about it though, like the itch of a healing wound. His face ! Really, I thought they were hurting him, though I could not imagine how; him sitting there like Thingol or even Manwë, all haughty, and them kneeling before him, one after another, stooping over him like beasts at food. 

 No, I am no longer afraid, there is no doubt, we were right to speak of what we saw. I did not even consider that the Enemy could have been involved, I mean, not in Tol Galen; there are no orcs on the green isle ! But her words really have reassured me, though it was not until I wrote them to you that I knew. I suppose that I could not be easy until you had also been reassured. 

 Let me reassure you even more. Dior may be Mortal. We have spoken of this. But I will always be your friend, and even if we lose Dior altogether, still we shall be there for each other ! 

 I mean, you know he has been becoming ever stranger for three years, not just in body, but in mood and thought, heart and spirit. Helin told me of watching her brother change, and how slowly it had happened compared to Dior. Poor Helin, she is appalled by the whole business, her carefully plotted scheme of education for the Eldar child of Lúthien has been torn up, and towering Dior drinks mead in the Tavern.

 

Well, that is all, so far. I shall see you soon, I hope, but if the worst should happen, I will write more fully, and tell you everything I see and hear, so that you do not feel too left out. It would not be fair, the three of us have been friends for so long, it would be awful if you could not come too. Though, as you well know, he is not the Dior of old. But still, he is our Dior, and we shall stick with him, come what may, and truly, after standing before the wrath of Lúthien, I feel much more sure that I mean what I say ! 

 

 

 

 


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