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."
This is my first story on here, and I wanted to expand on the story of those two.
Nellas stood underneath the trees that she considered her home for so long. The fires were burning. Her former life was burning. Her old home was burning, and the realization that she would have to find a new one came to her swiftly. Ironically, she had hoped for this in the dark recesses of her mind. She wanted to leave here with him. She wanted to whisk him away from the darkness that lurked around him, from the shadow that followed him. She wanted to spent time with him and his family at someplace where the Enemy couldn't touch any of them.
Yet it was now impossible. It had been impossible for a long time, she amended bitterly.
She remembered that fateful day, when Mablung and his men had returned, bringing sorrowful tidings with them. Her hope had died on that day. The one she had been there for ever since he was a child, the one she had loved, was gone. He was out of her reach now, forever.
A long time ago, she had realized that she and him were alike. Both shied away from human contact, preferring to stay in the safety of their own worlds. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him in the first place. He was a bright child, eager to learn, and expand his knowledge. He was the son of a proud warrior, whom even Thingol himself had to respect.
The tale of Thingol's daughter and Beren occupied her thoughts the most in these days. She wanted to follow Luthien's footsteps, wanted to do it badly. But she never really gathered the courage to do so, not until it was too late.
After his death, she forswore love in its entirety, electing to wander underneath the trees, like she had always done, like she had done before he had come to Doriath. Into her life.
But even that was not an option anymore. The sons of Feanor were killing anyone that they could. There was only one choice for her: to join the refugees. So this was exactly what she did.
-x-
She sat next to the water, observing her own reflection. Then, to her bewilderment, the image in the water changed. It now showed the family she longed to be tied to. To the left was Hurin, leaning on his sword, no longer hunched as he was when he came to Doriath for the last time. In his arms was his youngest daughter, who was the youngest victim of Morgoth. His wife, Morwen, stood by his side.
And to the right, standing close to one another, were Turin and his sister, who was also his wife. Their fate, to her, was the evilest deed ever done by the Enemy. The enemy, who took the one she loved away from her, for all eternity. Who stole the life from the child she had watched grow up. And she knew that she would never forgive Morgoth for that.
A hand landed on her shoulder, startling her. She turned around, and met the gaze of her queen's father-in-law, whose features showed uncanny resemblance to the child from a long time ago.
"I suppose I should ask you what you're thinking of." Tuor hummed thoughtfully "But I think I already have an idea."
"Do you?" Nellas raised an eyebrow
She had adopted a neutral expression, one that revealed little of her actual thoughts.
"You loved him, didn't you?" Tuor asked abruptly
Nellas didn't know what to say to that.
"Your silence is telling." Tuor finally said, after a while
Nellas chanced another look at the water, though the image she had seen had vanished, as if it had never been there.
"What does it matter?" Nellas sighed, resigned "I once thoughts we'd be like Beren and Luthien. Like Idril and yourself. But it wasn't in the stars for us. And you look very much like him."
"We were first cousins." the corners of Tuor's mouth quirked upwards as he smiled "It's only natural that we'd look alike."
"I suppose." Nellas looked away, choosing to stare at the water instead
"If I may make a suggestion?" Tuor offered
Nellas heard the sincerity in his tone.
"Please say your piece." she implored
"You say you wished for you and him to be like Beren and Luthien." Tuor smiled thinly "Then why not do as Luthien did? Beg for his release."
"I....." Nellas fell silent as she mulled his advice over "I might try."
"Good." Tuor nodded "It will benefit both of us, as I might get the chance to speak with him."