The Aging of Cirdan by Cirdan

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Chapter 2: The Fate of the Falathrim

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The armies of Morgoth suddenly came into Beleriand and assailed the peoples of its lands. Many Elves wandered free in the wild or dwelt at peace in small groups, and they had little defense against the Orcs. In those days, many refugees fled to the Falas. Soon, Cirdan was cut off from Thingol at Eglarest. Despite his preparations, Cirdan had not foreseen the great number of Orcs and their lust of ruin and death. He could not have known the power of Morgoth. The Falathrim retreated to the rim of the Sea, where they were better able to defend themselves.

Thingol withdrew into Menegroth, and Melian put forth her power and fenced all that dominion round about with an unseen wall of shadow and bewilderment so that none thereafter could pass against her will or the will of King Thingol. Thus Eglador came to be called Doriath, the guarded kingdom, Land of the Girdle. Within it there was yet a watchful peace, but Cirdan knew that it meant the Falathrim would have to defend themselves alone from behind the walled Havens of the Falas. Many times, Cirdan was tempted to use the great white ships to sail to Valinor and escape this ruin, but he had made his choice and knew it to be the right one. Instead, they sailed up and down the coast harassing the armies of Morgoth.

Then fleeting thoughts of escape into the West ceased completely, for as Ulmo had warned, Valinor became hidden in enchantment, and Cirdan knew that the path was unmanageable by any of his ships. The Falathrim were enmeshed in the Doom of the Noldor, and now that Doom would have to work to its appointed end. The Orcs poured forth from the North in seemingly unceasing numbers. The Falathrim were not strong enough to withstand all the hosts of Morgoth alone, and Cirdan saw many of his people fall. The Sacrifice of the Falathrim, Cirdan thought grimly. It seemed too high a price to pay, but he kept faith and led his people in the defense of the Falas.

Then one day, there was heard from the winds of the sea a tumult of great wrath from the North. All who heard that sound were filled with wonder. Scouts reported a great burning that shone red beneath the clouds at Losgar at the outlet of the Firth of Drengist. The Noldor, Cirdan thought, and yet he doubted it himself for he could not fathom the reason for the bright flames at Losgar. Later, he would mourn for the ships of the Teleri, fairest of all vessels, that had been destroyed upon the arrival of the first host of the Noldor to Beleriand.

The Orcs that had been assailing the Falas left to join the battle in the North. Thus, the Falathrim were at last spared from the unceasing assault of Morgoth's troops. Before long, tidings of the great deeds in the North came south to the Havens of Brithombar and Eglarest. The Noldor, out-numbered and taken at unawares, were swiftly victorious for the light of Aman was not yet dimmed in their eyes. All the Elves of Beleriand were filled with wonder and with hope at the coming of their mighty kindred, who thus returned unlooked for from the West in the very hour of their need, and they believed at first that the Noldor came as emissaries of the Valar to deliver them. The Orcs were driven from Beleriand in Dagor-nuin- Giliath, Battle-under-Stars. Later, another host of the Noldor arrived from across the Helcaraxe, and the Moon rose for the first time. The Sun rose soon after. The Sindar marveled at the Host of Fingolfin, for the Grinding Ice was deathly cold. Little was known of the strife of the Noldor and the division of their hosts. The Elves of Beleriand only knew that the Noldor were strong and valiant and armed with swords long and terrible.

The mighty Princes of the Noldor spread out primarily across the North of Beleriand, where they held back the forces of Morgoth. In time, Cirdan was able to forgive the Noldor to some measure for their past crimes. They were noble and strong, and they protected all of Beleriand with their valor. Finrod's realm of Nargothrond extended further south the realms of the other princes, and this came to include all the lands of Beleriand between Sirion and the River Nenning. Finrod came to the Falas to meet with Cirdan, Lord of the Falas, and great friendship arose between them. Finrod was a wise and fair lord, and Cirdan knew that Finrod's people had not participated in the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, so friendship with him was easier than it would have been with the other Princes of the Noldor. With the aid of Finrod's people, the Havens of Brithombar and Eglarest were built anew. Behind their great walls, they became fair towns and harbors with quays and piers of stone. Upon the cape west of Eglarest, Finrod raised the tower of Barad Nimras to watch the western sea. Cirdan knew that the watchtower was unnecessary, for he had already witnessed that the servants of Morgoth shunned the Sea. But Barad Nimras served as a token of the friendship of the Noldor and the Falathrim.

When twenty years of the Sun had passed, Fingolfin King of the Noldor made a great feast. It was held in the spring near the pools of Ivrin, whence the swift river Narog rose, for the lands were green and fair there at the feet of the Mountains of Shadow that shielded them from the north. The joy of that feast was long remembered in later days of sorrow. It was called Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting. Cirdan and a host of his people came out from the Falas. At Mereth Aderthad, many counsels were taken in good will, and oaths were sworn of league and friendship. Cirdan was also friendly with the three Houses of Princes, for the leaders of each of the Houses were worthy of respect and loyalty. In those days, there was joy beneath the new Sun and Moon, and all the land was glad, but still the Shadow brooded in the North.

After some time, rumors of the evil deeds of the Noldor before their coming to Beleriand spread among the Sindar. Cirdan heard these dark tales and was troubled. He knew of these deeds from the tidings of the Lords of the Water, but he had never spoken of this matter with his people. He perceived therefore that these rumors were put about at this time through malice, though he deemed the malice to be that of the younger Princes of the Noldor and the strife between the Houses. He sent messengers to Thingol to tell him about the rumors. Unfortunately, this accomplished little except to unify the tongue of all the Elves of Beleriand, for Thingol forbade the use of the Noldorin tongue in his realms.

The third great battle, Dagor Aglareb, did not affect the Falas at all. Fingolfin and Maedhros utterly destroyed the Orcs that had been sent forth from Angband, and so the armies of Morgoth never came as far south as the Falas.

Beleriand knew peace for almost 400 years after the Glorious Battle. There were small skirmishes, and the Siege of Angband never ceased in that time, but this affected the Falas little. Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, sought to assault Angband, but most of the Noldor were content with things as they were because the land was fair and their kingdoms wide. Thus, the Falathrim were never called to arms to assist the Noldor in their fight with Morgoth.

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One winter, the armies of Morgoth burst forth from Angband again. In the fourth great battle, Dagor Bragollach, the Siege of Angband was broken, and many of the Noldor were forced to flee from their lands. Fingolfin fell in single combat with Morgoth, and Fingon took the high kingship in sorrow. Several messengers of Fingon delivered tidings of the Battle of Sudden Flame to the Falas. With these dark tidings came Fingon's young son Ereinion Gil-galad. The Doom of the Noldor and the sacrifice of the Falathrim, Cirdan thought to himself. Harboring such an important refugee would undoubtedly bring trouble to the Falas in the end, but Cirdan was not concerned with that. The Noldor had protected Beleriand from the armies of Morgoth for the last 400 years. Cirdan would not hesitate to protect one of the Noldorin Princes in return. What concerned him most was that Ereinion was still in his early youth, a time during which he should not be separated from his parents.

"Why has the High King of the Noldor sent his son to me?" Cirdan asked the leader of the messengers, for these messengers were also guards for the precious young Prince.

"The High King did not see fit to divulge too much information with me," the messenger said carefully. "Strategically, the Falas is farthest from Angband, except Ossiriand, and there is no lord there."

Seeing that he would not get a satisfactory answer from any but King Fingon himself, Cirdan returned with the messengers to Hithlum by ship. He was wise and knew that there must be some matter aside from safety that prompted such a drastic measure. Ereinion stayed in the Havens of the Falas for the time being. Fingon welcomed Cirdan, of course, but when all the pleasantries were aside, Cirdan spoke with the High King in private.

"A child should not be separated from his parents at such a young age," Cirdan said. He knew that Fingon also knew this. "Why have you sent him to me?"

"Because I wish to keep him safe, of course," Fingon said. "The Siege of Angband has been broken. The realms of the Noldor lay in ruin. I do not know how long I can hold Hithlum."

"Even if it were so, you would not be separated from your child." Cirdan sighed and covered his eyes with one hand for a moment. "Look at me, my Lord," Cirdan said solemnly. "I am aged like one of the mortal Men. I am a prisoner of the Shadow though I have not been captured and tormented in Angband. The very weariness of my body is evidence of the hold that Morgoth has over me. Memories of the past weigh heavily on me and will weigh even more heavily on me before the Enemy is defeated. I am marred even in the manner that Arda has been marred. When you crossed the Helcaraxe, those who survived were not aged by the trial but became greater in valiance and endurance. Even after years of struggle, you are strong, young and undeterred in your purpose. You may tire, but you have seen the Light of Aman that dwells now only in the Jewels of Feanor behind the Gates of Angband. Even if Hithlum is endangered, you would raise your own child better than me, and his very presence here would give you strength."

Fingon was silent for several moments. He looked at Cirdan with a critical eye. The wrinkles were few but unmistakably there. They ran deep in his face and the back of his hands. But in spite of the wrinkles, Cirdan was tall and strong. He was not bent and diminished in stature like those who escaped from Angband. The spirit was strong in him, and his eyes were bright like stars, like the Eldar who had seen the Light, though Cirdan himself had not. There was a heavy burden laid on him indeed, but he was not yet weary, not as he had described it.

"You are mistaken, Lord of the Falas. You may be weary of dwelling in Middle Earth, but you are not yet aged. You are wise, and my son can learn from such wisdom." Fingon looked out to the east and for a moment, a shadow seemed to fall over him. "Maedhros and I have spoken much about the Fall of the Noldor since that Day when the Two Trees were wickedly slain."

At the mention of the Death of the Two Trees, Cirdan felt the shadow fall over him as well. He remembered that day when he had become witless and his sorrow when he had learned that he would never gaze upon the Light of the Two Trees. If he had not delayed, the Telerrim could have dwelt in the Bay of Eldamar. No, but then they would have been killed in the Kinslaying of Alqualonde along with their fellow Teleri. Nothing would have been achieved. There was another fate in store for the Falathrim, though Cirdan did not know it yet in full. The shadow passed. He had chosen to remain in Middle Earth, and that choice was still the right one.

Fingon watched Cirdan intently as the shadow clouded his eyes and then left them bright and hopeful again. "You see, we are right," Fingon said. "Morgoth was unchained for 100 years before the fullness of his malice was revealed. That is 1,000 years of the Sun. He always targeted the Noldor, and after Feanor created the Silmarils, Morgoth's malice was turned to the Houses of Feanor and Fingolfin all the more strongly. My uncle Finarfin did not come to Middle Earth because he alone escaped the worse of Morgoth's corruption. He dwelt in Alqualonde for the most part, away from the turmoil of the Noldor in Tirion. Morgoth did not work his lies on the Teleri as he did on the Noldor, for he considered them too weak for his designs. But the rest of the House of Finwe, we are marred deeply, and that same pride that led us to join in Feanor's madness will in the end destroy us." Fingon took Cirdan's hands. They were wrinkled, yes, but they were strong and firm.

"You have heard of the Doom of the Noldor." Cirdan nodded. The light that had sprung into Fingon's eyes held Cirdan. Cirdan knew more than most, for he was deep in the counsels of Ulmo and Osse. "There is a second Doom, the Doom of Feanor. Do you know of that?"

Cirdan swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. The High King's words were hot and his eyes were aflame as he remembered the words of Feanor, the Spirit of fire.

"I know of it indeed, my Lord," Cirdan said. "Osse has spoken to me of it. 'We are threatened with many evils, and treason not least; but one thing is not said: that we shall suffer from cowardice, from cravens or the fear of cravens. Therefore I say that we will go on, and this doom I add: the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda.'" Though Osse had spoken to Cirdan about the matter only once, Cirdan remembered each word, for through Osse, Cirdan had also felt the great fire that Eru had placed in Feanor, mightiest of the Noldor. Even as he recalled the Doom of Feanor, Cirdan felt his courage kindled as if Feanor had planted a fire within him as well.

"Then you do understand," Fingon said. He gripped Cirdan's hands, for he felt the heat in his body and the fire burning in his eyes at the mere memory of the words of Feanor, which he had never heard but through Osse. The wrinkles meant little now. Cirdan was stirred such that he felt young and strong enough to assail Angband. "Yes, you feel it too, then." Fingon released his hands and looked out the window to the east again. "I was there, as were many of the Noldor. If not for Feanor, perhaps we would be cravens indeed, for I hear that the Noldor fled when Morgoth assaulted Formenos and that Finwe stood alone against the Dark Lord."

Fingon's eyes were a deep gray, and they were sharp, but there was sadness in those bright eyes. "We will either defeat Morgoth or be ourselves utterly defeated. But I will fight Morgoth even as my father did, and I will follow my Fate to the bitter end, if bitter it must be." He smiled wryly and laughed softly at himself. "The Pride of the Noldor will be its downfall. But you are different. You have never taken a kingship, yet you rule your people with wisdom. You are humble, but you are also noble and lordly. Teach my son to be the same." He looked out to the east again as the sun set in the west, and the clouds were aflame in soft oranges and reds. "Maedhros and I are proud. We will not be deterred from our path, and the day is coming when we will deal such injury to Morgoth that even the Valar in the Ring of Doom will be amazed. And our deeds shall, indeed, be a matter of song until the last days of Arda. If we are defeated, then it will be your teachings that stay my son's sword and stops him from following in our folly."

Cirdan bowed his head. He calmed himself and banished the fiery passion that had awakened at Feanor's words. "I will raise your son then."

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Some time after his meeting with Fingon, Cirdan received an unexpected visit from messengers of Turgon, who had left Vinyamar in Nevrast and gone into hiding at the behest of Ulmo years ago. Cirdan did not know the location of Gondolin, but he knew of its existence and knew that, like Nargothrond, it was situated along one of the great rivers under Ulmo's protection. The messengers did not say anything about Gondolin, only that they had been sent by Turgon. Turgon had learned of the breaking of the leaguer of Angband, but none of his people would be issued forth to war. Cirdan took note of this warning, for the lessening of the hosts of the Noldor was but an advantage for the Dark Lord. Furthermore, Turgon believed that the ending of the Siege was the beginning of the downfall of the Noldor, unless aid should come. Of that, Cirdan had little doubt. He had received these same warnings.

The companies of the Gondolindrim had been sent forth to seek Cirdan's aid in the building of ships so that they might sail to the uttermost West upon Turgon's errand, seeking for Valinor, to ask for pardon and aid of the Valar. This path seemed wisest to Cirdan, for he knew that the white ship that he had seen in his vision would be the salvation of the Elves of Middle Earth. Thus Cirdan aided the Gondolindrim and guided them in the making of ships. The white ships were strong, but the way to Valinor was hidden. Though the messengers of Turgon besought the birds of the sea to guid them, none of the messengers came into the West, and many were lost and few returned.

Evil would yet be good to have been, and the history of the Eldar would be greater than it otherwise would have been. Cirdan mourned for the loss of so many fine mariners, but he kept his faith and waited for the mightiest mariner of song to arise from the Darkness.

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Although Ereinion was sundered from his father, Cirdan would often take him up the coast of Beleriand and up the Fifth of Drengist to visit King Fingon. Both father and son delighted in these meetings, and though they were always too brief, Ereinion did not feel that his father's presence was lacking in his upbringing. By spending time with Fingon, Ereinion learned what no Sindar could. He learned the strength and bravery of the Noldor. He witnessed the light in Fingon's eyes and the burning fire in his heart. He saw the differences between the Noldor of Hithlum and the Telerrim of the Falas, those that had seen the Light of Aman and those that had not. In such a way, Ereinion understood himself to be the scion of kings, descendant of the great line of Finwe. Ereinion was proud, as was befitting for a Prince of the Noldor, but with each parting from his father, Ereinion also understood the weakness of the Noldor, for if Morgoth could be defeated, there would be no need to send him away. In such a way, Cirdan taught Ereinion to be humble and wiser than the Princes who had come forth from Aman.

When seven years had passed since the Fourth Battle, Morgoth renewed his assault, and he sent a great force against Hithlum. Cirdan came up the shore to lend aid to Fingon, and with him came young Ereinion. Ereinion was too young to fight, and Cirdan would not have endangered him in such a skirmish. Instead, Ereinion's ship stayed a safe distance from the shores of Beleriand while the ships of Cirdan sailed in great strength up the Firth of Drengist and came upon the host of Morgoth from the west. Fingon had been hard put to hold back the army of Angband that came down from the north, but now, with the aid of the Falathrim, the Orcs broke and fled, and the Eldar had the victory. Only then, when victory was won, did Ereinion come to Hithlum. He sat beside his father at the celebrations and was filled with admiration and love for Fingon the valiant. But after some time, Cirdan brought him away again. The parting from Fingon was too much for him. For the first and last time, Ereinion asked to stay with his father at Hithlum. King Fingon refused his plea.

As Ereinion sailed back towards the Sea, he looked out at Hithlum once more and asked Cirdan, "What would have happened if we had lost the day? Surely I would not have been able to join my father then in celebration of his victory."

"No, indeed you would not have," Cirdan said. "The ships would have borne away what survivors they could on swift winds, and you would have learned an important lesson."

Ereinion was solemn and silent. He touched the sword at his side. Though he wore this sword with pride, he knew that he was not yet strong enough to wield it with the deadliness of his father. The day might have been lost despite the battle prowess of Fingon the valiant.

Ereinion said slowly, "Although there was no need for us to retreat with survivors this time, I think I have nevertheless learned the lesson."

Cirdan nodded. "Then you will be everything that your father hopes that you will be. And perhaps you can avoid the Doom of the Noldor and the Fate of the Falathrim."