The New World by Lyra

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

 

It took them a while to notice the change in the shadows.

 

Afterwards, none of them could say how it had begun, or when it had been noticeable, or who had seen it first. Numbed by weariness and grief and the relentless cold, none of them cared much at first.

 

Then their shadows gradually grew clearer: No longer the fuzzy, hardly visible offprint of bodies under dim starlight, nor the cold silhouette painted upon the ice by the strange new moon - clearer and clearer, until they were dark and black and it was impossible to ignore the change any longer.

They moved closer together, preparing to counter whatever threat this would be. Speculation sprang up and discussions, talk revived from its hibernation in the face of something new and unknown. And ever again arose the question:

"What is this?"

 

Findekáno set down the youth he had been carrying upon his back. Young Lastaher was suffering from a severe fever; he was now unconscious most of the time and had to be carried by others, another burden on an already burdened people. Yet, as long as he was breathing, he would be dragged along.

Just now, however, Findekáno wanted to find a high look-out; and climbing a towering mount of snow was a hard enough task without the weight of another body on his shoulders. Leaving Lastaher in the care of his brothers, he began the ascent. He too was weary; but he was determined also, and both duty and curiosity commanded him to see what this meant, threat or promise.

 

The ridge was scaled fairly soon. From up there, Findekáno could see the long train of the Noldor in its entirety, family upon family lined up upon the floes and planes of ice. To the east he could see their destination, hidden from sight of the people below, but clearly visible from the crest of ice he was standing upon: Bare rocks and barren earth only, but firm ground - and delightfully close. All weariness was forgotten at this promise of land. But just when he meant to give these joyful news to the other wanderers, he chanced to glance westwards. And his breath caught in his throat.

 

Miles and miles away, outlined against the lightening sky, he could see the sheer walls of the Pelóri. Their crowns gleamed as though dipped in liquid gold; small clouds overhead were painted in soft hues of red. The stars were fading, but in their place…

Findekáno gasped.

A mighty lamp was rising behind the mountains, pouring forth its light across the restless sea. It rose up and up into a sky that was no longer black but blue, brilliant like robins' eggs. Where the light touched the sea, the dark waters turned into deep blues and greens, crowned with golden foam. Even the ice was no longer deadly grey, but sprang into a symphony of bright colours of light glittering on snowflakes, light mirrored off water-polished sheets of ice, light broken into many hues through the prisms of icicles. The shadows were of an almost bluish hue now.

A wind arose and tugged on Findekáno's frozen braids.  Through the sloshing of the sea and the grinding of the ice and the tinkling sound of melting water, he felt as though he could hear echoes of the Ainulindalë of old. Such beauty and hope was in the growing light that he laughed aloud. His eyes, used to years of darkness, only recently reintroduced to brighter lights than cold stars and small torches, welled up with tears even as he laughed. The brightness was fractured into tiny rainbows; he hardly noticed.

 

"What do you see?" his father called from below. Only now did Findekáno remember his people. Turning away from the marvellous sight reluctantly, he looked down. The host of Nolofinwë's people were still standing in the shadows of the ridge, he realised, where they couldn't see any of the light, only the changes it promoted in the sky and the shadows. There was whispering, wondering. He was embarrassed to have been so caught up in his amazement that he had forgotten his task.

 

"Oh, it is glorious," he called now. As the light rose higher, it reached ever further; now he had to shield his eyes against it. "Light. The Valar have given us a new lamp." He heard people gasp as the golden beams reached his face, crept over the hill to finally brighten the valley below. "And we're almost there." Cheers went up from the waiting Elves.

Smiling broadly, Findekáno made to climb back down. He felt water trickle down his neck and realised that the ice in his hair was melting.

 

He rejoined his family still smiling; he couldn't force the smile off his face even though it was beginning to hurt, even though Turukáno was crying openly now as he hadn't done before, as if his tears had been frozen all this time and only now could melt. Arakáno looked grim and mistrustful as though suspecting a trap. His father – Findekáno had to suppress a gasp. The new light revealed things that had been hidden before: A pained, bitter line to his mouth, dark shadows under his eyes, the eyes themselves clouded by the knowledge of having been betrayed and having made a choice that had cost many of his people their lives. He was staring into the far distance, his face blank. Only his sister Irissë and Artanis, his cousin, mirrored his own excitement on their faces.

 

"Did you hear me, father?" Findekáno asked softly. "It is not far now."

For a moment, there was silence. Finally Nolofinwë nodded. "Yes. But it is no longer the place our ancestors left." He drew himself up; until then, Findekáno had not noticed that his father had let his ever-perfect posture slip. Now he stood tall again, and some of the old brightness returned to his eyes. "It is a new world." He turned, looking at his family, then at his waiting people.

 

"Very well. Then let us go into this new world proudly. Let us show them that we are yet to be reckoned with." He smiled faintly at the murmurs of assent.

And his blue banners were unfurled, fluttering in the breeze, and Turukáno set his great horn on his lips and blew, quavering and mourning at first, but steadily gaining strength; and under the ever-rising sun, they marched into Middle-earth.

 

They reached firm earth just as the first flowers sprang into bloom.

 

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

As this story takes place before the Noldor encountered the Sindar, all names are given in Quenya.

Nolofinwë=Fingolfin

Findekáno=Fingon

Turukáno=Turgon

Arakáno=Argon

Irissë=Aredhel

Artanis=Galadriel

 

As, according to the Silmarillion, the Noldor under Fingolfin marched into Middle-earth "at the rising of the moon" and thus had long passed the Ice by the time the sun went up, this is - very strictly speaking - an AU.