The Aging of Cirdan by Cirdan

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Chapter 1: The Two Trees

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Cirdan left the shores of Beleriand rarely, but he did so when Menegroth, the Thousand Caves, was full-wrought. With Cirdan came few of the elves of the Falas. The Falathrim were not against the idea of traveling, rather, they disliked traveling by land. Like their lord, they did not want to be away from the Sea. Cirdan was in high spirits throughout the journey, and as a result, those who journeyed with him did not begrudge their time away from their homes by the water. After much time, they came to Menegroth in Eglador.

Thingol and Melian came out to personally welcome the visiting Falathrim at the gates.

"Cirdan, it has been too long," Thingol said warmly. They embraced and held each other for several moments. Their bond of kinship was renewed at their meeting.

"Elwe Thingollo, Melian the Maia," Cirdan said in greeting to both of them. "It has been too long." A beautiful, young girl with raven dark hair and piercingly bright eyes giggled at the Falathrim's accent. Cirdan felt his heart melt at the sight of her. There was a shining light in her face like that of Melian, and Cirdan knew without a doubt that this was like the brightness of the Two Trees. He felt a pang of sorrow that, after all these years, he had still not gazed upon the Light itself. Thingol, of course, was satisfied with the light in Melian's face, and now, undoubtedly, in the light in his daughter's face as well. "And this must be Luthien," Cirdan said. He had heard of her birth and sent words of congratulations and gifts, but before now, he had not had the opportunity to see her in person.

Cirdan knelt before her. She skipped away with laughter like silver bells and hid behind her mother. Cirdan smiled at her and gestured for her to come towards him. She shook her head. He took out a large, luminous pearl and rolled it to her. It was only slightly smaller than the Nimphelos, the great pearl that Thingol had given to the chieftain of the Dwarves of Belegost. The Sindar murmured in awe of the pearl, for its sheen was as starlight on the foam of the Sea. Luthien picked it up and smiled with much liking at it. She came over at last and held the pearl out to Cirdan with open hands.

Cirdan smiled at her and wrapped her small hands around the pearl. "You may keep it," Cirdan said, and this time he tried to imitate the Sindarin tongue. The pronunciation of several words differed from that of the Falathrim, and it had been a long time since Cirdan had needed to adjust his speech.

"Thank you." She curtsied before him. Then, after a moment, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She had seen him embrace her father, and not even their kinsmen in Eglador did such a thing. She decided that he must be someone close to the king indeed.

"Luthien," Melian said in gentle reprimand. She was an open-hearted girl after the manner of the innocence born before the marring of Arda. However, this was not Valinor, and Melian knew that Luthien could not so freely give her love to others. Luthien came to her mother's side and took her hand. The other hand held the pearl that was the size of a dove's egg.

"Is this the Shipwright of Falas who searched long for my father and missed the Ferry?" Luthien asked. Cirdan felt another pang of regret. His heart was ever drawn to the Sea, but more than that, his heart was drawn to the Light of Valinor.

"I am indeed," Cirdan said. "In fact, I journeyed with your father from Cuivienen."

"Come, Cirdan, do not let my daughter distract you," Thingol said. "We shall speak more in Menegroth. You have yet to see the glory of the Thousand Caves."

There, Cirdan saw the labor of the Elves and Dwarves that had wrought out the visions of Melian, images of the wonder and beauty of Valinor beyond the Sea. Cirdan began to understand why Elu Thingol was content to dwell in Beleriand, though he alone of the Sindar had seen the Light. The pearls that Cirdan had given to Thingol for payment to the Dwarves was well- worth it. The pillars of Menegroth were hewn in the likeness of the beeches of Orome, stock, bough, and leaf, and they were lit with lanterns of gold. The nightingales sang there as in the gardens of Lorien; and there were fountains of silver and basins of marble, and the floors of many- colored stones. Carven figures of beasts and birds there ran upon the walls, or climbed upon the pillars, or peered among the branches entwined with many flowers. Already, Melian and her maidens had filled some of the halls with woven hangings wherein could be read the deeds of the Valar, and many things that had befallen in Arda since its beginning.

Cirdan and his companions stayed for several days in Menegroth and were entranced by its beauty. Indeed, Cirdan imagined Valinor to very like this, and like Thingol, he delighted in the light in Melian's face. Luthien was very fair and pleasant, and Cirdan delighted in seeing her dance and sing in the manner of children. But after a year had passed, Cirdan knew it was time to return home. There was something of everything in Menegroth, hidden away behind the forest of Eglador, except the Sea. Therefore, Cirdan went to the Halls of Thingol to take his leave of his kinsman.

"The horns of Ulmo call to me," Cirdan said to Thingol.

"It grieves me to see you go," Thingol said. "Before you leave, there is one other matter of which we must speak." Cirdan waited a moment, but then seeing that Thingol did not intend to continue, Cirdan bowed and left the Halls distressed. Later, Cirdan went to visit Thingol in his private chambers.

"Elwe, there was one last matter which you wanted to address," Cirdan said.

"Yes." Thingol waited until the servants had served them drink and food. Then he sipped on his wine until they were alone. "Do you remember the days after the Battle of the Powers, when we undertook the Great Journey?"

"Of course." Cirdan waited patiently for the king to reveal his mind.

"We both know that the evils of the North were not rooted out completely. Orome gave us arms with which to protect ourselves on the Great Journey." As Thingol spoke, dread slowly took Cirdan. "The Dwarves have told me that the remnant have long multiplied in the dark. Very few come roaming into Beleriand now, but this will not always be so. Melian has warned me that the Peace of Arda will not last forever, and this is the true reason for the existence of Menegroth. It is to be a place of strength if evil awakens again in Middle Earth. Were it not for her foresight, I would be content to dwell in Eglador as we had been doing for many years."

Cirdan shifted restlessly and said, "I too have begun to have visions of what is to come, though I understand very little of them. I thought them to be dreams of the past, when we still lived in fear of the shadows that dwelt in the mountains of Cuivienen. Now I understand that it is not what has been that haunts me but what is to be."

Thingol nodded solemnly. "Very soon, I will ask the Naugrim to smith weapons for us after the manner of the weapons that Orome gave to us long ago. They are a warlike race and are skilled in such work. It may be that we will not need such arms for many years, but even so, it would be wise to harken to the counsels of Melian. You should also prepare the Falathrim for the Darkness that may come to Beleriand."

"I will do as you advise, my Liege," Cirdan said.

Cirdan returned soon thereafter to the shores of Beleriand. He prepared arms as Thingol had advised. The Falathrim mostly crafted slender bows and spears after the manner of the weapons that the Teleri had received from Orome. They were trained in these weapons, but they only used them to hunt. Thingol sent to Cirdan a sword and mail of linked rings that had been crafted by the Dwarves. Cirdan shuddered at the feel of the steel blade beneath his hand, but he practiced wielding it nevertheless. For many years, there was peace.

Then, fell beasts of the North attacked the Nandor. Denethor, son of Lenwe, led his people over the mountains into Beleriand. Thingol welcomed them, and they dwelt in Ossiriand, the Land of Seven Rivers. Cirdan received news of this and knew it to be a warning. Though there were long years of peace thereafter, Cirdan bore in mind the warnings of Melian and armed his people and taught them to fight.

Cirdan continued with his ship building as well, and he created such ships as the one that he had first seen in his vision. They were great white ships, more strongly wrought than any that he had created previously. And they were, he believed, finally strong enough to withstand the tumults of the Great Sea. Nevertheless, he remembered the words of Ulmo and abided in Middle Earth. He believed that someday he would receive a sign, and the last of the Teleri, now known as the Telir or Telerrim in the Sindarin tongue, would depart from the shores of Beleriand.

There were days when he thought about the Light of the Two Trees and told himself that he did not wish to be remembered in songs for his great work. He dreamt of leading the Falathrim to Aman, the Blessed Realm, where he would be reunited with the greater host of the Teleri and with Olwe. He longed to see Alqualonde, the Haven of the Swans, which Osse had described to him before when he asked for tidings of the Teleri in Aman. But these feelings he kept to himself, and after a time, they passed as they always did. And he consoled himself by journeying up and down the shores of Beleriand and increasing the numbers of their fleet.

Eglarest and Brithombar flourished under his guidance, and the Falathrim sang and danced and played their pipes. Their songs were joyful, for the Falathrim took pleasure in the beauty of Middle Earth. But there was also sorrow in their songs. This was not simply the sadness that arose from their desiring to be reunited with the Teleri of Aman. At the foundations of the Earth was unfathomed sorrow, and thus the sorrow was reflected in the music of the Falathrim, which echoed the sounds of the water.

In this manner, the Elves of the Falas dwelt by Belegaer in peace for many long years. Despite his caution and preparation of arms, Cirdan could not have predicted what was to come, and even his visions did not avail him, for Ulmo had not seen what was to become of the Two Trees.

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It happened at a time of feast. By the coasts, only conifer trees grew, for other trees could not endure the cold winds that blew from the Sea. Further inland, however, there were melon patches and strawberries to be found. And in the south, in Taur-im-Duinath, the Forest between Rivers, fruit trees ripened, and nuts could be gathered. The Falathrim knew when these times of plenty came, and during such times, the Elves of the Falas would gather the melons and strawberries. The mariners would sail along the coast, dock at the Mouth of Sirion, and gather fruits and nuts from Taur-im-Duinath. They would hunt in the east in Taur-en-Faroth, the Forest of the Hunters, and bright back fowl and deer. Then they would hold a great feast. In this, ironically, the Falathrim differed from the Teleri from whom they had been sundered, for the Teleri in Aman reckoned little of seasons. But the Elves of Middle Earth did not have the luxury of deathless trees, and so the Falathrim celebrated the time of ripening. During one such time of feasting, a Darkness came over Cirdan and he fell into a deep sleep as one dead.

The Falathrim did not know what ailed their Lord, but Cirdan was put to rest in his house, and many of his people took up vigil by his slumbering body or outside of his house and awaited his awakening.

In that time, Cirdan received no visions from Ulmo.

When Cirdan came to, he remembered nothing at first and felt only sadness. He did not understand the words that were spoken to him, nor did he recognize those around him. He ate the food put before him, for he had been asleep for a long time and was hungry. Then his people sang for him songs of the Sea and played for him upon the pipes and shells as they would have at the high feast. Memories were slowly stirred, but his memories were those of his youth by Cuivienen. He wept, remembering those fair waters. The Falathrim wept with him, for their lord was dear to them.

When Cirdan could be calmed, he was brought to the shores of Belegaer. There, he gazed out across the Sea, and he thought he saw a faint light in the distance, but this he saw in memory only. It was the light from the Floating Isle that had carried away his kinsman Olwe and the Teleri. Though he had been strong then, proposing to travel to Valinor upon his great ship, he did not feel that same strength at his memory of that time. Cirdan fell to his hands and knees and wept again. The Falathrim knew not what to do about their lord, who seemed wrought with unexplainable sadness. His friends urged him on into the waters, for they believed that the water would heal him or at least calm him, as it always had.

Cirdan gazed out at the Great Sea and remembered the first time that he had seen the Sea. He stepped into the water, and then he began to run deeper into the water before any could stop him. When he was deep enough, he began to swim out to the Sea like one fey. Cirdan was a strong swimmer, and he was far from the coast when others had only begun to swim after him. He took a deep breath and swam down into the depths of the Great Sea.

"Osse, my Lord!" he called out. "Help me." Cirdan was careful not to breathe in water as he cried out. He did not know how Osse could help him. He did not even know the problem. He only knew that the Lord of the Seas would somehow help. After a moment, he cried out again. "Osse!"

"I am here, Child of the stars."

Cirdan felt himself lifted up to the surface of the waters. A great wave built up under him, and he was brought back to the shore as he had been that first time. The elves that had followed after their lord into the water were also pushed back to the beach. Osse arose from the foam of the coastal waters and appeared in the form similar to the Falathrim. He did this often, but this time, he did not completely take his accustomed form. A watery figure sat on a rock just within the coastal waters, with hair of foam. When Osse spoke out, only Cirdan heard his words.

"I am sorry, Lover of the Waters, that we have for so long delayed your departure from these shores," Osse said. In his voice echoed the lamentations of the water that the Falathrim had long heard but not understood, for the fullness of Arda Marred had not yet been realized.

"Osse, my Lord, what has happened?" Cirdan asked, though he dreaded the answer.

"The Two Trees that you have longed to see are no more." Osse turned his head toward Valinor. "The enemy has slain the Trees, and they will not be healed. But that Light is not yet lost to the world, for it dwells now in three gems which the enemy now possesses." At this, Osse's voice rose as great waves breaking violently upon rocky coasts. "More than this, I cannot yet say, for even the Valar do not yet know what is to come. Even now, Ulmo is in Valinor holding counsel with the Valar." The figure of water began to melt back into the Sea. In the air lingered his last words. "I must return to the vigil. I will return to you later, Shipwright. Know that you are not alone in your grief, for even the Valar weep. But beauty not before conceived shall be brought into Ea, and evil shall yet be good to have been."

At these words, great waves stirred in the coastal waters, and the Falathrim became afraid, for they did not yet know what was being spoken between Cirdan and Osse. For the third time that day, Cirdan wept. He was calmer this time, but the fullness of Osse's words stung to the very core of his being. Cirdan wept not only for himself but also for his people of the Falas, for though they had been strong enough to cross the Sea for many years now, they had not done so. Cirdan had awaited the great task that Ulmo had set for him, and he had been content with the vision of the white ship, whose light was like that of the Two Trees. Now, the Two Trees were no more, and Cirdan and his people would never see the Light.

At last, Cirdan spoke to his people. He told them all that Osse had revealed to him. The Falathrim grieved with him. Indeed, the last host of the Teleri grieved with all the Valar, the Maiar, and the Eldar. In this way, Cirdan was warned that the Peace of Arda had come to an end, as had been foretold by Melian long ago. His people prepared for the forces of darkness that were to come and renewed their skills with weapons.

From that day forth, the wrinkles of regret and sorrow never left Cirdan's face. The deep lines did not mar his beauty, but they were ever a reminder to the Falathrim that the Light of the Two Trees was no more. Some said that he had stayed in the water for too long and the water had claimed the smoothness of his skin. Others said that the burden of memory was becoming heavy on him and that these wrinkles were the result. Cirdan barely noticed them, for although there were wrinkles on other parts of his body as well, he felt no different physically. He took it to be the way that his body grieved for the slaying of the Two Trees.

But this was not the final grief to come of the Death of the Two Trees, for more news was yet to come. Osse returned to bring dreadful tidings. His words were wrathful, and he could barely contain the thunder in his voice. He told Cirdan of the flight of the Noldor, the theft of the white ships of the Teleri, and the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, where many of Cirdan's old friends and their sons had been wickedly slain by the Noldor. He spoke bitterly of Olwe's prayer that he could not answer, for it was not permitted by the Valar that the flight of the Noldor should be hindered by force, and he spoke of the tears of his wife Uinen that had swelled the seas and drowned some of the Noldor. Osse gave no advice; he only relayed news of Aman. When all was said, Cirdan was alone and grieved. He did not weep as he had when he heard about the Death of the Two Trees, for this was but an extension of that Darkness. But his sorrow deepened, and Cirdan sat on the beach for a long time, uncertain of how to retell this new misfortune to his people.

"Ulmo, Lord of the Seas, I have abided here on Middle Earth as you had wished, but the vision that you had sent me has come to naught." Cirdan's whispers were lost in the heavy wind, and he did not know if even Manwe could hear him now. But the waters carried his message ever dutifully back to Ulmo, and Cirdan's words were heard. "What should I do, my Lord? My heart desires to lead my people to the shores of Eldamar and aid Olwe in the rebuilding of the ships of the Haven of the Swans. Though our ships can never replace those that were stolen by the Noldor, we may yet alleviate their sorrow. But I do not wish to abandon my kinsman Elwe at this time, not when I know that the forces of Darkness will soon be invading Beleriand. I cannot leave him to fight alone. My heart is torn in two, as it has been since I first resolved to stay in Middle Earth and forsake the Light of the Two Trees."

Though Ulmo could not come to him, the water brought its Lord's response to Cirdan, and Cirdan heard that message in his heart. Ulmo revealed to him the Prophecy of the North and Doom of the Noldor that had been laid on the exiles. He had pity for the exiles and asked Cirdan to befriend Noldor. The vision of the white ship that Cirdan had beheld long ago was a part of that which Ulmo had seen in the Music of Ainur, and its fate would be all the more glorious now, for it would arise from amidst the Darkness. Evil would yet be good to have been, and the history of the Eldar would be greater than it otherwise would have been.

"All this will not come to pass unless you are willing to abide yet longer on the shores of Beleriand," Ulmo said to Cirdan. "This is not an easy choice that has been set before you. For even as you have said, your ships are now strong enough to sail to Valinor, but this will not be so for long. Even as is foretold in the Doom of the Noldor, soon the Valar will fence Valinor against the Noldor and shut them out so that not even the echo of their lamentation shall pass over the mountains. In the Hiding of Valinor, you and your people will also be unable to cross the Sea and find the Blessed Realm. The Doom of the Noldor will fall on all the Elves of Beleriand, even the Falathrim, last of the Teleri. Through the sacrifice of the Falathrim, the fate of the Children of Iluvatar shall be achieved. But the cares of Middle Earth already weigh heavily on you, Cirdan of the Telerrim. The death of the Two Trees has only strengthened your desire to leave these shores. What will you do?"

Cirdan bowed his head. The words of Ulmo lingered in his heart like the high tide. Cirdan did not know what to do. He did not know what strength would be in him once Ulmo's presence had left him. He ran his fingers across his face, feeling the wrinkles that had never before been seen on any elf. Ulmo asked him to befriend the Noldor, but how would the Falathrim react if they knew about the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, the slaying of the greater host of the Teleri from which the Telerrim had been sundered? He resolved not to tell his people of the latest tidings brought to him by Osse. But what of Ulmo's words? The Falathrim could sail to the West but only for a short time. He yearned to leave behind the grief of Middle Earth and lead the Falathrim forth, but he could not abandon the Sindar and the exiled Noldor to ruin. Through the sacrifice of the Falathrim, the fate of the Children of Iluvatar shall be achieved. He gave a great sigh and looked out across the waters to see if he might his last sight of Valinor before it was fenced from the elves of Middle Earth, but he could see nothing across the Sea.

"I will abide here, my Lord," Cirdan said. The waters brought his words swiftly to Ulmo.

Cirdan felt in his heart the love and pity of Ulmo for the Falathrim. "I will be with you. Remember that the true hope of the Elves lieth in the West and cometh from the Sea."