The Rising of Eärendil's Star by MithLuin

The Rising of Eärendil's Star

Read The Rising of Eärendil's Star

The Rising of Eärendil's Star

They had paused for the night, their men concealed among the stony outcroppings of this bald forsaken hill. Elros stood watch, listening carefully in the quiet night. But he heard nothing amiss - few beasts lingered in this part of the world. The gloaming deepend into full dark, and the stars shone out on this clear night. It had not rained for some time, he thought. Presently, Maglor picked his way across the hill to join him. "A quiet night," he remarked, his voice low and yet still musical.

"Yes, there is no sign of our enemies," Elros agreed. "They dare not assail us here."

"Perhaps. Not yet, anyway." Maglor sounded doubtful. His eyes strayed West, to the horizon. Elros followed his gaze, and was surprised to see a bright star low in the sky. His eye sought out Menelmacar, and the bright star at the warrior's foot.

"Is that Alcarinquë?" he asked, puzzled.

"No," Maglor said. "It is a new star, though the past few nights it has not followed the paths of the stars, like wandering Alcarinquë." Elros looked at it again with renewed interest. "A new star? What can that mean?"

Maglor looked at him for some time, but did not answer the eager question. He turned, and Elros thought he was going to walk away. But then he said in the same low voice, "It means you are not an orphan."

"What...what do you mean?" Elros asked, floored by this unexpected answer.
"Your parents were...lost at Sea," Maglor explained cautiously. "It seems they found the path to the West, to Valinor...the path that is closed to all the Noldor."

"If they were not lost..." Elros began slowly, his eyes fixed on the new star. "Then why did they not return? Unless they could not?"

"I do not know," Maglor said, "but perhaps the path was only open to the West. The Valar have strange rules about who may come and who may go," he added with a crooked smile. "But come! This star is a sign of hope, for you most of all."

Elros fell silent, gazing at it solemnly. He shifted in the stillness and said in a whisper, "But it's so far away."

***

"That star...I have not seen it before." Elrond had come out on the battlements to oversee the night watch.

"I have seen it the last five nights," Maedhros replied in a low voice. He was standing in the shadows against the wall. "It does not follow the others, but has its own path."

Surprised, Elrond gazed at this new star. "That is indeed strange. There are so few wayward stars." He continued on his rounds, and when he returned, found Maedhros still standing there. "I will be sure to rouse you if there is an alarm, Uncle," he said respectfully.

"I do not doubt it," Maedhros returned, knowing the young elf was unsure of his trust. "But tonight I am more of a mind for stargazing than for other forms of rest."

"There is something about that star, though," said Elrond slowly after a time. "It is very bright, but the light from it seems... purer than other light somehow. I am drawn to it."

"Perfection," Maedhros whispered, his voice tinged with awe, but barely audible. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, remembering his companion.

"I... cannot describe it," Elrond admitted. "But when, on a night such as this, the clouds clear away and the stars shine out clear and cold... there is something in their light that pierces me, makes me long to touch it. I think, though, that the very remoteness is what makes this so. I cannot touch the stars."

Maedhros listened gravely, his face inscrutable. Elrond thought he was not going to respond at all, he was silent so long. They stared out at the stars, slowly travelling across the sky.

"I have, though," Maedhros said quietly, continuing the conversation as if there had been no pause. "I held that star in my hand once." He looked down, but it was not his left hand he looked at. It was the stump of his right arm. "Once - long ago." Surprised, Elrond looked at the older elf, his questions written on his face. He was hesitant to ask them, though, knowing that much hinged on the answers.

Maedhros continued to stare at the old stonework. He seemed reflective, for once. "My father once made a magnificant jewel," he began. "Its beauty surpassed all the works of Elves or even the Valar. He showed his father, and convinced by his reaction, he made two more from the material he had left. He guarded those jewels jealously, allowing few to see them, and even fewer to handle them. But I was his eldest son, so once - just once - I held perfection in my hand." He sighed. "But never again. It is out of my reach now." The bright star dipped below the horizon and was lost to their sight.

Maedhros' face cleared, and he turned to Elrond with a smile. "But that was all before one stone was laid atop another in this battered old fortress." Then he turned away, and went inside humming softly, leaving Elrond to his own thoughts.

***

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Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading!  Some details are not explained here, because this is not the beginning of the story.  So I do apologize for any confusion, and welcome any feedback.