Walking into Darkness by Aiwen

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And in the Darkness Bind Them

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We continued north, encountering true orcs multiple times on the journey. Fortunately, my illusions and Beren's instructions on acting kept us safe. Our spirits rose, including mine as I began to believe I might actually get out of this alive. All went well until we had traveled well into the pass of Sirion and had actually passed the tol-in-Guarhoth.

Earion roused me. "Dungalef, I think our werewolf friends are about to come visit."

Lovely, I thought, and looked around. I couldn't see any wolves although I could hear snuffling noises in the darkness which suggested more than one was out there. I hoped my illusion was good enough to fool a werewolf's nose. Finally, a pair of eyes gleamed out of the darkness and a wolf came forward into the light of the dying fire. "You will follow me," it announced.

"Why, and on whose orders? I asked. "We have an urgent errand, and Boldog will be angered if you delay us with this foolishness."

"On the orders of Gorthaur lord of werewolves. Why, you'll find out when he meets you. You are to come immediately. Boldog can wait and if he howls that's not my affair." I looked around, and saw that at least twenty other wolves had come into the light. We dared not fight, for the act of fighting would give away what we were and we would have no hope of entering Angband secretly.

"If Lord Gorthaur wants us, fine. He can explain it to Boldog." The others had woken now, and were staring around unspeaking. "It looks like we have a side trip," I told them. "Lord Gorthaur wants to talk to us, so we're heading for the tol-in-Guarhoth."

"Just what we needed," Beren grumbled. "Boldog will be right mad when we finally get to him. Can't be helped." We got to our feet and packed up their orcish equipment. Fortunately, by this point we were very used to it and to our orcish forms. The disguise had better be good enough, because facing Gorthaur the cruel was about as harsh a test as it could possibly get. If it passed his inspection we were probably fine until we actually faced Morgoth. It looked like I was about to see what they had done to Minas Tirith after all. Not that I really wanted to; I doubted it would be an improvement over when I ruled there.

We walked towards tol Sirion with the wolves as escort around us. Shortly after the sun rose we came within sight of the tower itself. Outwardly it looked little different. It still stood tall and fair in the center of the isle. The isle itself was darkened, and it seemed to my inner sight that a brooding darkness lay on the land, centered on the tower and on the rock immediately underneath.

It took us until late afternoon to reach the valley bottom and the bridge. By this point it was all too obvious that the tower was in evil hands. Its white walls were stained with what looked like blood, and the entire place reeked of evil.

We crossed the bridge. The waters of Sirion seemed to shy away from the stones, as it would if they were oily, yet more so than that. How strange. We started up the path towards the tower, trying not to look at each other or betray how fearful we were. The feeling of doom and despair pressed down upon us and it was difficult to separate myself from my friends enough to not betray what we were through my own horror. As for the emotions I could feel coming from within the tower...

We walked on and came to the tower itself. Orcs flung the gates wide, and we entered. The gates closed behind us with a hollow thud, leaving us in the dim light of torches. I looked up: the orcs had befouled and then half-destroyed the carvings that I had made. Curse them! But that is ever the way of orcs - to befoul and destroy what whatever is fair. No reason to curse them; they are cursed already. Poor things. I walked the rest of the way looking at the ground.

We did not have to wait at all to see the lord Gorthaur. A very bad sign, that. Our weapons were taken from us, and we entered the great hall. Gorthaur was sitting on the throne at the opposite end of the hall. The throne was a monstrous thing of stone which appeared to have been darkened by blood. That was certainly new. Gorthaur himself was a tall figure in armour so black that all light falling upon it was devoured, and so large he was in proportion with the throne. In inner sight, he was the center for the darkness that sickened the island. There was an odd tugging effect, as if he sucked all warmth and hope out of the room, replacing them with cold and despair.

"So, the runagate orcs are here at last." He turned to our wolvish escort, "You may go," he said. The wolf bowed his nose to the ground and tucked his tail between his legs before leaving us alone with Gorthaur.

Gorthaur gazed at us intently." Why did you not report in?"

"We have an urgent errand to Boldog, my lord, and we feared being late. We are sorry to have disturbed you."

"So you should be. I have ordered that all who come and go through my territory must report in and you ought to have been informed of this by Boldog. Tell me your errand."

"We have been scouting the borders of Nargothrond, and watching any sign of communications between there and Doriath."

"What have you learned?"

"They don't talk much, my lord." I answered.

"What have you seen? You must have seen something while you were on the borders."

"We met a raiding party and slew them, all thirty."

"Most impressive, for twelve orcs facing Eldar - or were there more of you to start with? What were they raiding? Who are your captains? - you have not said."

"I am Dungalef, and this is Nereb." I said, gesturing to myself and Beren. "They died before they could raid any camp, so we know not their aim."

"How careless of you. Tell me of Nargothrond: who reigns there?"

"Finrod Felagund."

"Curse him! Bloody handed elf." Beren added.

Thank you Beren, I really needed that... I thought.

Gorthaur continued: "Surely you have heard that he is gone, and that Celegorm sits upon his throne?"

"Surely not! For is Orodreth not the heir?" I asked. Do not let my fears be true...

"I am most impressed by your knowledge of realms you have not entered. It is most - suspicious."

"Whom do you serve, light or dark? Repeat your vows, orcs of Bauglir - or do you know them so poorly that I must remind you:"

Death to light, to law, to love.

Cursed be Moon and stars above.

May the darkness of the void drown Manwe, Varda, and the sun!

May all in hatred be begun, and all in evil ended be,

drowned in the moaning of the endless sea 1).

I cannot say that. None of us answered, and our silence was as deadly as anything we could have said. Too late, Beren muttered "By what right do you hinder Boldog's scouts? You are not our overlord."

Gorthaur laughed softly, and began to sing:

Your illusion shall not hold, against my great revealing power,

Your shapes shall uncovered be, here in this blood-darkened tower,

Uncover and betray,

by the power of dark!

A darkness fell around us, and all we could see through the mirk was the fire of his eyes. I felt not one but both illusions beginning to slip, and I answered:

Yet courage and faith may secrets keep, in the face of horror's power,

Love lead into places dark, breaking the chains of thy dark tower.

As the candle lights the darkness,

Small they seem, yet strong they are.

The darkness seemed to back off for a second, but it would not be for long. I carried on, singing of beauty, of hope, of joy, of freedom and of escape from captivity. How long can I keep this up? I can feel the power flowing out like water. Sing - that is all that matters now.

Then he replied.

Fearing betrayal you turn away those who have escaped in truth,

And in your heart you fear the dark where courage ends in empty death,

Dust to dust you all shall be,

While Melkor laughs up on his throne.

 

And I fought.

But death itself is not an end, though Mandos halls do lie ahead,

And outside time there is the One, who holds the music in his head,

Since he is good how shall we fear,

Thy pitiful song of darkness here?

 

The One cares not for this marred world, where tears flow into the night,

And the Valar hide themselves away, keep for themselves the only light,

While Eru's children walk in darkness,

They live in blissful happiness.

 

The One cares much for this marred world - not you nor I know all his plans,

And there shall come a reckoning that pierces the darkness like a lance,

You shall not have the mastery,

While the smallest light remains aflame.

 

But there has already a reckoning been - the doom of Mandos haunts thy ways,

By the blood spilled in Alqualonde darkened are the Noldor's days,

Guilt or innocence signifies nought,

For the valar hear not thy cries.

 

Indeed they weave spells of darkness over the sea,

While Teleri weep in bitterness and Noldor cry in agony,

Men worship the darkness,

And the Sindar die forgotten.

 

The darkness swirled around me - I was so tired, there was an answer but I could not remember it, and while I wavered Gorthaur sang, changing metre, his voice darkening yet more. All light faded save the flame of his eyes, and all sound save his voice, chanting inexorably:

The wind wails, the wolf howls.

The ravens flee,

Ice mutters in the mouths of the Sea.

The captives sad in Angband mourn- 2)

 

And I saw nothing but the darkness.

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Someone was dragging me along the floor. It hurt, but at the same time it seemed to be happening to someone else. I was then picked up and carried before being dropped a short distance onto a stone floor. I groaned, and tried to sit up. A harsh voice laughed as someone kicked me. "That'll teach you not to try to fight lord Gorthaur. Thinks he is a regular Fingolfin, doesn't he?" I gave up and lay still as they put chains around my wrists and ankles that burned painfully. The other orc laughed, and they fussed about with the chains of the others for a time before climbing back up the ladder, which they hauled up out of the pit up after them. They took the torch with them, leaving us in darkness at the bottom of a twenty foot deep hole.

"Dungalef, are you all right? Can you hear me?" Edrahil asked anxiously.

"I can," I answered. "I'm just exhausted." If he was calling me Dungalef, then perhaps Gorthaur hadn't seen the second layer of illusions. Yes, the illusion must have held, for I was still feeding power into the spell. We lay in the darkness and awaited our fate.

Some unknown time later, Gorthaur arrived, standing at the railing that overlooked the deep pit in which we lay. An orcish guard beside him held a torch. The light was welcome, even if he was not. "You will tell me your names and your errand."

We did not answer.

"Oh, you will in the end, one of you. For those who remain obdurate, my wolves are hungry. You shall be slain one by one until you either tell all you know, or there is but one left alive. That one will be tortured until he reveals everything." He left then, taking the torch with him, and we were alone in the dark again.

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Chapter End Notes

A/N:

1) This verse is slightly altered from the original in the Lay of Leithien. A large amount of the question and answer sequence is also paraphrased from the Lay. The original was in verse, and some of the objects referred to do not fit with the more recent versions of the legendarium, since the Lay is older than the Silmarillion and many ideas had not yet reached their final form. This is why I altered it.

2) Direct quote from the Silmarillion. The other verses are my own.

3) I apologize for the excessive spaces within the poetry. For some reason, this site seems to have changed it and I cannot get it to single space properly. If anyone knows how to fix this... do let me know.