Kinslayer by Anu

Kinslayer

Oh dear god, what I have I written now? The muses have got to stop doing this to me. *facepalm*

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I was an orphan, of sorts. I care not to discuss the manner, nor the nature of my birth, I will only reveal what memory bids me.

I do not remember meeting Turgon, so I must have been very young then; I ran wild from the time I was weaned. I was always obsessed with his, and fascinated by his life. He came of good family, had loving parents, and siblings to care for. Many people cared for him.

I saw my mother rarely, for though she lived in the camp of the Teleri, all fed me, and when I was very young; offered me sanctuary and a place to sleep at night. As I grew older, it was no longer offered to me and I no longer required it, but the rejection stung. The Noldor and my father never offered it, and looked upon me with pity and disdain.

I was an angry child, subject to fits of violence and prone to lapses in memory. I doubt that I was ever wholly innocent.

I roamed always, and the night was mine, even in Valinor. I would peer in windows and watch Turgon and the other well-loved children sleep. Aredhel always feared me, from the very beginning. I think she saw the evil in me long before even I knew it was there. By the time I knew what I was, I no longer cared; it was elves like I that had been twisted into Orcs. Neither Aredhel nor I saw an Orc for many years yet, but it was she who always knew that I was not quite right.

As I have said, I was prone to lapses in memory, from which I suffered unto the end of my days.

It was not disturbing to me, but it disturbed a great many others, and was perhaps the reason all feared and withdrew from me. I have said I was violent, that is true. But these attacks upon my reason were also deeply sexual in nature – I have done many things in those nights of madness that I later regretted.

I roamed the shores and the fields, but my greatest glory was the forest. I would be powerless against my urges by night, when stars or moon lit the world, and would cast off my cothing and run rampant, with all speed, my hair darkest night behind me, my only covering.

By day, when Turgon did not degin to spend his time with me, I would swim for hours, winning races with porpoises in the surf.

I was very nearly grown, perhaps only a year or two from my majority, when I discovered sex.

I followed my age mates and the young princes of Finwe’s heirs often. I discovered Meadhros and Fingon one night, at twilight. They knew I roamed those forests, but did not fear me. I was not mad or wild that night, only curious.

I watched them kiss each other, watched them touch one another’s faces and jaws. My teeth timgled and a warmth began someplace I had not expected one to be. They touched, undressed each other with delight. I enjoyed myself the view of sweat beaded on redheaded Meadhros’s face, Fingon’s moan of extascy. I fell in love with the way their lashes fanned on their cheeks, the way Meadhros’s brows drew together in climax.

I wanted to feel it myself – indeed, I was a bit dizzy and warm, and between my thighs an ache that would not yield.

I watched them often, for they were there nearly every night, and as the primeval grew strong again in me, one night I watched them and felt my madness overtaking me. I fled into the forest, for I dare not spook them, as I enjoyed their nightly clandestine meetings.

As I ran, I shed my clothes, my cock still burning and hard from watching them. I was aware of all around me, intensely so;  so that when I heard the great breathing of some animal, I ran ever faster. The hound gave chase, and I was treed, for instinct came upon me, and I was like a hunted wild thing.
Now, before this my heart had never known fear, thinking myself the most fell thing there, in all the blessed lands.

But came the master of that hound, and all more fell than I being a son of Feanor; Celegorm. He laughed to see what his hound had treed, and I hissed at him fiercely – I had nearly attained my full stature, and I tried to be intimidating and failed.

Celegorm pulled me from the tree by my ankle, and called off his hound, and seeing the state I was in, his eyes burned with an odd light. I snarled and fought him, but he pinned me easily – he was older and stronger than I.
“Thou art Ecthelion, the berserker of the Teleri.”

In my fits, speech would desert me, and so I growled at him like an animal.
“Yes, I have heard of thee. Ye will be a great fearsome thing when thou art grown, but for now…”

And he leaned in and bit my face, my mouth and chin. I writhed, like a wolfling refusing to be cowed, but it was of no use.

Huan watched while his master took me there, my face against the forest loam, his tounge lolled out as if mocking me.

Celegorm was as gentle as Celegorm could be, I suppose, and by the time he was done we were both well satisfied and I begged him for more, without shame. He gave me more that night, and many others, and it was always forgotten by light of day. Forget not, I was not one easily tamed or taken, I liked Celegorm not, nor did he like me; I always made him chase me, and he was often hard put to catch me – would not have but for the aid of Huan, his hound.

From the glory of being taken, I had a new craving. I wanted to feel the glory of taking for myself. Long had I been obsessed with Turgon, he was everything I was not, and it was a simple matter for me to turn my desire to him. My corruption of him was very slow, for I greatly respected and desired him – hundreds were the times when I wished that I was him.

And at last, I let him take me first; that he might not be frightened when I took him.

And for a time, I had Turgon when I was sane, and Celegorm in the times of my madness – I was very nearly kept satisfied.

But then Turgon took a wife.

I was very angry, for a long time, I could not go near him for my rage. I played upon a little flute that I had; and ran wild, unkempt.

One night when Celegorm did not appear, I roamed the forests by the shore, my cock achingly erect, hungry as it always was.

In the morning, when I woke, I lay in the shade just beyond the beach; and I was startled. I was sane now, and I saw that I was not alone. The elf-woman at my side opened her eyes when I moved suddenly away.

“Who art thou?” I asked her.

“I am Elenwe.”

“Turgon’s wife.”

“I came looking for thee, to tell thee to stay away from him; but thee found me, and I have known more passion in one night with thee than in a year with him. Small wonder he cannot give thee up.”

I stared at her, shocked and appalled at myself. To have taken his wife, unknowning!

She smiled then, and beckoned me closer. I found that I was hard again. Near women, I had always felt clumsy, unsure. My hands were too large, my legs too long, my body too heavy. I feared that I would crush her, indeed, I held her in great reverence, felt rapture as I worshipped her small body, little breasts with their rounded nipples, her little wet well.

I feared to sink myself in her depths, even as I craved it, and I think maybe she knew I would never wholly surrender myself in her arms.

With men I was on familiar ground; my touches sure, my cock’s strides long and swift, with none of the controlled gentleness I felt around women. I could be as rough as I pleased with them, for I knew I could not hurt them as I could a woman. I could break her, and I knew it, I was too long and too thick, she was not built to endure my tool. How had she survived my attack of lust in the night?

I claimed men with great joy, and her with overpowering tenderness. I knew then I would only find abandon with Celegorm and Turgon; when they plowed me deeply and ruthlessly. I never felt like a woman in those moments, and yet never had I felt more a man than then.

The glorious roughness of men, and the equally glorious tender softness of women, those were the two most extremes I have ever known, and they were a wonder and a fount of desire to me.

When I was complete, I plowed her in one great thrust and groaned, in her face was pain and pleasure. Her hands scrabbled at my buttocks, trying to sink fingers into muscles turned to iron by my force. I gasped a great breath, and drew away from her suddenly; I rose to my feet, my cock dripped wetness from her well overflowing with great amounts of my seed.

I turned then, and fled from her, the rapturous delight upon her face, her bliss-closed eyes.

I often thought later, that Idril could have been mine, yet from the time she entered feet-first into the world and I carried her sweet little warmth across the Grinding Ice in my shirt against my skin as a bright, laughing little baby; I knew that she was not. But I had committed the act that creates children, and though she was not my daughter, she might easily have been. I cursed my cock for the formidable, hungry thing it was.

In my guilt, I returned to Turgon then, forgiving him; and I never touched Elenwe again, but she was a temptation to me unto the end of her days.

+

It was then that Feanor made his damned jewels, and because of them led many into great mischief.

I was one of them, but not for his sway did I do what I did, nor for the sake of following his brother, the only one who had ever dominated me. Much as I craved Celegorm hunting and felling me, I would not have sought it for his sake.

I did not notice when Valinor became dark, for the morning was after one of my nights in the wood, and I slept late, being tired. When I rose and it was still dark, I knew something had come to pass – I gathered my clothing and accoutrements and left my wood, where my acts of wickedness had spread rumors that none should enter in darkness alone.

I found news among the camp of the Teleri, to which I was closer, that Morgoth had destroyed the Trees of Light, and stolen Feanor’s gems.

Then suddenly Feanor appeared in the city, though he was banished, and he was a master of words. “Why, O people of the Noldor,” He cried “why should we longer serve the jealous Valar, who cannot keep us nor even their own realm secure from their enemy? And though he be now their foe, are not they and he of one kin? Veangence calls me hence, but even were it otherwise I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kin of my father’s slayer and of the thief of my treasure. Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people. And have ye not all lost your King? And what else have ye not lost, cooped here in a narrow land between the mountains and the sea?

Here once was light, that the Valar begrudged to Middle-Earth, but now dark levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-hauting, dropping vain tears in the thankless sea? Or shall we return to our home? In Cuivienen sweet ran the waters under the unclouded stars, and wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still and await us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city!”

Then Feanor argued the Noldor to his cause, and swore his oath, and his sons with him – Celegorm spared one glance for me, and then he too was sworn – I doubt not that he thought of me no longer ever after.

Then Fingolfin and Turgon at his side argued against Feanor, and they nearly drew swords. But Finarfin spoke softly, urging him to stop and think, and only Orodreth spoke also with him.

At length Feanor prevailed, and the greater part of the Noldo were eager to be gone and burned with desire to be gone back to the wide lands and roam.
Where the Noldor would rather have Fingolfin king over Feanor; I had already set it in my mind to follow Turgon wherever he should go in the wide world beyond.

Then came the herald of the Valar, but Feanor would not be swayed, and the people were with him. So even the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin followed him, and he came thus to the Teleri, my mother’s people, and would convince them to go also. But they would not, and he came to Aqualonde, where the ships were docked.

Again, he tried to convince the Teleri, but they would not be swayed a step, and held to their refusal, saying, “But as for our white ships; those you gave us not. We learned not that craft from the Noldor, but from the Lords of the Sea; and the white timbers we wrought with our own hands, and the white sails were woven by our wives and our daughters. Therefore we will neither give them nor sell them for any league of friendship. For I say to you, Feanor son of Finwe, these are to us as are the gems of the Noldor; the work of our hearts, whose like we shall not make again.”

Then Feanor would take the ships by force, and the fighting began, for the Teleri threw the Noldor off the ships into the waters, and swords were drawn, and they fought there bitterly, coloring the white ships with blood.
When I saw this, I was at a great quandry – for though the Teleri had not raised me, I held love for only a few of the Noldor, and would not be drawn into this battle, were it not for Turgon whom I loved well. When I saw him in the fray, I would fight at his side, and my descision was made.

But my mother came then, and clutched at my sleeve, and cried, “Ecthelion! My son! Come away from this madness of the Noldor and be at the side of thy blood kin, the Teleri!”

At this I was angry, for always had the Noldor despised me, but they had never changed; and the Teleri had turned their faces from me when I was but a child.

I took her by the throat then, and reached for the long knife I wore at my side. I would see fear in her eyes again, that I might kill her with ease; but she denied me that and met my gaze evenly, and her face was calm and she closed her eyes even as my blade cut her throat. And when she was dead, I let her drop, and would join the battle.

But as I reached the ships, the voice of my Noldor father came to me. “Ecthelion! Thou art Teleri!” He would have slain me then, but I advanced on him, my steel naked in my hand, stained red to the elbows. I pulled loose the binding on my hair with my free hand, shook it out, let it fall behind me, long and thick and black – so deep a black it shone silver and blue. I let him see the Noldo in me, and then I put my blade through his heart.

“I am a warrior!” I cried. “I have no kin and no friends here, no ties shall bind my wrath! Ye all disdained me, and now may ye find it to your peril! I am no longer any ill-gotten child of shame! Fear me and may the blood of all the Eldar know terror at the sight of me; for my parents knew not what they wrought when they made me!”

In that moment I realised I was mightily aroused, hard as the steel of my sword; fair to burst the fitting of my breeches. Such was the great pleasure of my vengeance and the glory of seeing fear on the faces gathered round, Teleri and Noldo alike.

I went to Turgon’s side, and would follow him then, wherever he and the Noldor would go.

+

After that, I was still mad, and still wild; and I followed Turgon ever after; but it was the girl-child Idril that tamed me, as later her son would break me.

She was the chiefest delight of my life. In her first years I carried her with me everywhere that I went – I no longer roamed the nights; I took her to women and watched her nurse from naked breasts, and attacks of lust did not assail me.

I grew to love her laugh, and the touch of tiny feet and hands; I taught her to stand, and walk; I curbed my speed for joy of being near her when I taught her to run and ride upon a horse.

I was patient as she sat for long hours taming my hair, and in Nevrast, I stayed with her when her father deserted us to build his secret city. When it came time, he returned and brought us thence, and she grew to womanhood there, lovely and fair. At this time I knew for certain that she was no daughter of mine, for though she had her mother’s Vanya looks, she had Turgon’s brow and his lips. My heart was neither sad nor glad at this; for her mother was mad at the end, and she did not deserve dishonor as well as death, and though she had hated Turgon, none ever knew – especially not her daughter.

Aredhel feared me always, and living in her brother’s city, her eyes followed me constantly. When she took her leave, and did not return, I could have comforted Turgon, but did not. He found his own comfort – indeed, that was when Glorfindel came.

I could have hated him, would have, were it not for his guiless green eyes – damn him! I knew he could give Turgon all the attention that he so craved, and apart from hanging Glorfindel upside down in a tree by his ankle when I first met him, I did him no harm.

It was then, with Idril grown, and Turgon and Idril enamoured of Glorfindel, I longed for the forests of old, and felt my old enemy – the senseless madness, creep upon me again.

I took great care to go always into the Tumladin and Ecoriath during these times, for the peoples of Gondolin remembered Valinor, and my wicked wood, and feared me still in their most secret of hearts.

It was later before Aredhel’s return, and the death of Eol, by then my jaunts in the wilderness had returned to habit, and I almost missed that bastard Celegorm, and his damned hound. Thus it was that I did not meet Maeglin until he was two days in the city, and I surprised him there, in the square of the king. He knew fear at the first sight of me; indeed surely he had thought he was the most evil creature he had ever met until he met me.

He said nothing to me, nor I to him, but he watched me after; when he was not watching Idril, or bristling like a dog at Glorfindel.

We avoided one another with great success for many years and many evernts, for I was mad much of the time then; by day as well as night – and that had never happened before. Idril worried, and made much of me when I put in rare appearances, scarcely sane enough to be trusted.

With the coming of Tuor, even she had hardly any time for me. I was a ghost, a phantom, a rumor and a fear-story told at the watchfires.

Mighty Ecthelion, fairest of all the Noldoli; skilled with the flute, gifted in song: a terror unfit to be spoken, a tale told to frighten children, a figure that made maidens quiver at the sight and tales told of him – a berserker from the days of old, a creature of some fearsome hell.

Maeglin too, deserted the city, and spent his time at his forge or roaming in the hills like a dwarf for metals to work his craft. I had some measure of control at times, at at others none.

On one of the days when I had knowledge of my deeds, but not control, I came upon his as he returned from his quarrying in the hills, and laid in wait for him at his forge – outside, for I would not enter walls at these times nor could I be made to.

When he came around and would enter the building, I waylaid him. It was then dusk, and the half moon cast a pale light for him to see my face.  I bore him to the ground, and grappled with him there. He fought fiercely, his fear was very great, for he had committed many evil acts by then, and knew retribution was due him.

As we fought, and I ground his face into the dirt and tore at his clothing; he realized my attack was not one of justice, but of a decidedly more carnal nature. But he still resisted, thinking perhaps that I was like unto Glorfindel, and that he would get a taste of me as he had done of Glorfindel’s sweet ass.

As I nearly penetrated him, he pulled away, made to crawl away on his knees and elbows. I grabbed him by the hair, put his throat in the crook of my elbow and sank my teeth into the nape of his neck. He cried out at my first thrust, stilled, and then wailed like a cat in heat as I plundered him without mercy.

When I had completed my assault, I released him, and expected him to flee – instead he rolled onto his back and caught me by my hair with both hands, made me look at him. He smiled, and his eyes were widely dilated. His hips tilted toward me silently, and he was aroused. With shock I remembered another dark-haired elf on another dark night, far away and long ago, who had looked up at his rapist and asked for more.

Strangely enough, I felt no horror at the thought of becoming Celegorm to him. The lad was ripe, required a frequent touch and a firm hand, needed a good domination to put him in his place. But Maeglin was not I – he was not so mad nor so young as I had been – he was merely crooked in mind, and not twisted of soul. I spared no thought for Aredhel, and claimed him often. She was dead – what would she care?

With Maeglin to vent my lusts and rages upon, I was frequently more sane, and when Earendil was born, I forsook my madness and Maeglin completely. That is how he came to be lost and found by Morgoth, looking for me in the dark nights beyond the plains of the Tumladin, in the rocky foothills and beyond where I did not often go.

If Idril as a babe had tamed me and softened my anger, then Earendil her son broke me and I forgot all my rage.

He was a delightful child and most fair and brave. There was a light in his face like that of heaven, skin white and eyes of a blue that shamed the sky. His name was Earendil, which means ‘Bright Eyes’, but only did the Gondolindrim know the meaning of his name, for it was wrought for him alone; and none knew the meaning of it afore or since.

I carried him not in my shirt, but upon my shoulders, that he might see all the world and know that it was his.

I gloried in him – and loved him perhaps more than I had loved his mother, though I still felt protective of her and her husband. But my time with him was short – not for fear of my tainting him with my fearsome madness – but because Turgon’s guarded city fell.

I would have taken Earendil and his mother to flee, but Turgon would have it we should fight, and so fight we did. Perhaps if Earendil had not been born, I would still have been mad, or half-mad as it were, and thus able to fight like a wild thing; but as it was, the softening of my soul for the child was a fatal flaw.

When I saw that the battle of the north was failing, I took charge and led the men of my house (an honorary position Turgon had given me – I hardly knew those men) into the fray. Likewise, I know not whether Turgon or Glorfindel made the lie that I was guardian of the Gates of Sirion, but it is likely one of the two used this to excuse my abscences. I knew not when Tuor came, nor did I care, as I had been on the rampage that day somewhere in the foothills. Regardless of who made the lie, the people wished to believe it, and for them, I was so.

I had met Orcs before, at the Fifth Battle, and knew them to be of equal strength and mettle as I; indeed they saw something of themselves in me, and feared me.

My blows were keen to hurt, my will strong, my enjoyment in harm and causing it in others, my glee for pain in myself but moreso them; these were the things about me that Aredhel had always feared and despised, these were the qualities of the Orcs. They feared me as they only could one of their own – thus I was a kinslayer yet again.

Into battle with the Balrogs I went with mad laguhter, for they saw only an elf when they saw me, and recked not what they dealt with when they fought me. I took out my flute that was always at my side, and with my sword in one hand played upon it with the other, and the men of my house did also.

There Tuor was at my side, and the joy of the fight in my face and my lust for blood must have been terrible to see. Then fell the wall, and my arm was caught by a whip of one of those bastards of flame, and my hand could not hold my shield, I knew the arm was broken.

Then I must stay close to Tuor, with only my sword to defend me. But I knew not that I bled, only that I found myself weak, and Tuor must keep me upright, I was nigh senseless, and not with the madness that usually accompanied it. I knew not when he picked me up and carried me from the battle to the last defense at the king’s square; I must have been a terrible burden, heavy with armor and unconcious with blood loss as I was.

I knew nothing for a time, but when I woke it was to Turgon’s square, and I was surprised to find myself by the fountain, without my helm, and Tuor giving me to drink. I lay still beside the fountain, weak unto death, and knew that not only had the whip broken my arm, it had lashed my side, and I was bleeding out beneath a rend in my mail. I could not see the wound, for it was on my back below my ribs, and there was a great lot of blood.

I put back on my helm, and gathered my sword to me.

Then the battle came into the square, and in my haze I saw Tuor threatened by that Balrog they call Gothmog, and I rose up and stood over Tuor – Earendil’s father, Idril’s love, he should not die. I knew then that my time was come, and my long years of madness and reign of emptiness were at last come to end; and I knew no fear.

I struck at that beast, and took another wound, such that I could not hold my sword. It dropped with a clatter and rang upon the stones, as my fingers could not feel it. Gothmog raised his whip again – damn that whip and the one like it that had given me the wound that made me so weak!

I remembered then the spike upon my helm, and felt glee at the thought of giving that demon his death upon it.  My leap carried me into him, and I twined my legs about his thighs as if were were mating, and searched out his heart beneath the breastbone, and when I found it I felt life leave him. But he and I were now deathly entangled, and I was mortally weak, and he pitched forward into the fountain with me beneath him.

In the cool waters, I loosed myself from my helm, and was treated to a last sight of the sky, drawing away as I fell ever deeper. I was a strong swimmer, but I was mortally wounded and my armor heavy; I released my air and took a deep breath of water, and watched the bubbles drift slowly up, transfixed. Then blackness claimed me, and my days were done.