Lessons from the Mountain by MithLuin

| | |

Chapter 13: A Crown of Seven Stars

He went to visit Curufin several more times. Each time, he asked Námondur if there had been any change, or if he had spoken. Each time, there was not. Each time, he was beaten up for his trouble, and left dejected. He had learned nothing new, and was no closer to helping his brother. He was unnerved by the silence and the dark, but what was most disturbing was his brother's fëa. 

He hesitated to ask Caranthir or the twins for help. They seemed well, and he did not wish to burden them…at least, not until he had some good news to share with them. All he’d learned was what the Lady Vairë had shared with him, but he did not know what that meant. Not accepting death did not sound promising, in any event. No, he and Celegorm would do what they could alone.

As he’d hoped, Celegorm called him back before long. He went unerringly to the Sunrise Hall, and from there, it was not difficult to find his destination. He knocked, and Celegorm opened. This time, they both sat facing the fire. Maedhros found it mesmerizing; it had been so long since he’d looked at dancing flames.

"Have you seen Curufin again?" Celegorm asked without preamble.

"Yes…but every time he is the same," Maedhros said dejectedly. "I have learned nothing since the last time."

Celegorm nodded. "What does he look like?" he asked.

"I do not know," Maedhros admitted. "He’s in complete darkness."

"Maybe you should bring a light." Celegorm had turned to face him as he said this; his blank white eyes were unsettling. At least he could open them a bit now.

Maedhros was shocked he hadn’t thought of that himself. It seemed such a reasonable idea. Then he remembered. "I do not have one."

"But I thought you said…"

"The light I have is not…portable. Like your fire." He thought for a moment. "But Caranthir has lamps."

"Borrow one; he won’t mind."

"Yes he will," Maedhros said with a smile. "They’re his lamps from Tirion, and you know he always hated it when you took his things.

"There is another problem," he continued. "I cannot hold him off. He bests me every time. If I had help…"

"Are you asking me to wander around these halls as a spectacle?"

"No! No one would see you. I never meet a wandering elf; I think Lord Námo arranges it so they give me a wide berth."

"Maedhros, Lord of Himring and Terror to Unsuspecting Elves."

"I suppose," Maedhros said, attempting to scowl. "But admit it – you are more intimidating in close quarters than I am. And he does not respond to me."

"I will think on it."

"That is just your polite way of saying ‘not on your life.’"

"True."

"If you insist on being stubborn, I will ask Caranthir for his lamps first, and see if I learn anything more next time. But if not…I will not return until you come with me."

"Is it that galling to be beaten?"

"Celegorm, if you were there, you would understand. It is as though he were not our brother."

"Maybe he will respond to the light."

"It may be."

Caranthir had been surprised, and a bit suspicious, but he had given the lamp to his brother. Maedhros made sure it was a permanent gift; he would make no promise to return something that may be broken. He found himself slowing as he approached Curufin’s cell. He dreaded what he might learn, but he would not let his steps falter. Námondur did not react, as always, but his eyes did flick briefly to the lamp. From him, that was almost crying aloud.

"Has he spoken?" Námondur shook his head. Maedhros sighed. "May I go in?"

As always, Námondur responded by withdrawing the key and letting Maedhros enter. As always, he promised to come when called. Maedhros steeled himself, and entered.

For once, Curufin did not attack him immediately. Instead, he recoiled from the lamp. Maedhros stopped short.

Curufin’s right arm shielded his face, revealing his torso – which had the gash in the side that had given him the mortal wound. Maedhros was seeing his brother die before his eyes in Doriath all over again.

Except that here, Curufin did not die. With a snarl, he lunged at the lamp, knocking it out of Maedhros’ hand and across the cell. Once again, they wrestled, silently, but this time Maedhros looked into his brother’s eyes…and saw nothing. They were strangers. He could not tolerate that sight, and fought back harder than usual. He would do anything to get a reaction out of Curufin, some glimmer of recognition. But nothing happened.  He lacked Curufin's ferocity of spirit, and was powerless against him in this contest of fëar.

Once again, he was pinned. Once again, he called for Námondur. But as he stared into the face of what he knew to be his brother, and saw only unadulterated hatred, he determined that Curufin would have more visitors. Maedhros may be his oldest brother, but he was not his only one.

Námondur removed Curufin, with the help of his lance. Maedhros stood, and retrieved his lamp. As he had feared, it was cracked, but not broken. In the light of it, he saw a flash of green…his stone. He picked it up and turned back to Curufin. "This was wasted on you." Then he turned and left this undead stranger who looked so much like his dying brother.

Maedhros sat by the fountain (he would always think of it as Fingon’s fountain), and watched the light in the water. The twins were here with him, and they were glad to see his jewel restored. Naturally, they also asked questions, and he was hard-pressed to explain its earlier absense.

"You are having trouble keeping your belongings in one piece," Amrod chided him. "Caranthir told us you cracked the lamp you borrowed from him.

"I did," Maedhros agreed, but did not elaborate.

"But what of your jewel? You are not going to tell us you just forgot to fix it out of carelessness, now are you?" Amras had always been the more direct of the two.

"No, I would not deceive you."

That got their attention. Amras sat up from where he was sprawled on a bench, and Amrod twisted around on his perch on the side of the fountain, so that he now faced Maedhros.

He took a deep breath, out of habit. "Have you wondered why Caranthir and I are the only ones you’ve met here?"

They looked at one another uneasily. "We thought…that was all that was allowed."

"Perhaps. But I have six brothers, and five of them reside here. I am not content with only three."

"Do you…do you know where Celegorm and Curufin are?" Amras asked.

Maedhros nodded.

"Do you think we can see them?" Amrod wanted to know. "After all, if there are rules…"

"Curufin is not in a good way."

They fell silent. After a moment, Amrod asked, "What is wrong with him?"

"I have no idea," Maedhros admitted. "But he does not speak and he does not recognise me. He is very angry."

"Why did you not tell us before?"

"I wanted…to bring you happy news. I wanted to return him to you."

"Perhaps you still can. There is no need to abandon hope so lightly…"

"I am not one to give up easily," Maedhros reminded them. "But even Lord Námo is hesitant to counsel hope in this case."

"We will help you," Amrod offered. "Surely three is better than one."

Maedhros smiled. "I accept your offer. Though I warn you… you will not like what you see."

"If our brother is suffering, we would see him as he is, rather than remain ignorant of his pain, even if we could do nothing for him," Amras said.

Maedhros nodded. "I will get the lantern."

Námondur gave the usual answers to the usual questions. He acknowledged the presence of the twins by actually turning and looking at them. Curufin was not daunted by the light this time; he went right for Maedhros as he always had. But before he could bring him down, the twins were on them, breaking them up…holding Curufin’s arms at his side. Maedhros was free to look at him in the light of the lantern they had brought. Curufin and Celegorm had always been skiled at wrestling and hand-to-hand combat. But Ambarussa were effortlessly coordinated. Maedhros knew that Curufin would not escape their grip…if they were not horrified by what they saw.

Curufin snarled at him, panting with his exertion (a pointless exercise, when none of them breathed any more.)

"Well, Curufin my brother, I have brought you other guests. Though you do not seem inclined to treat them any more courteously than you have treated me, I think they will be a match for you. Do you remember Amrod and Amras?" He gestured towards them, but Curufin’s eyes did not even follow the gesture or acknowledge him in any way. Slowly, Maedhros began pacing back and forth in front of Curufin. His eyes seemed to follow the movement, but he did not look at Maedhros’ face.

"What can I say to you? You will not even acknowledge that we are here. You snarl and fight, but you do not talk. Are you still our brother? Are you still one of the Quendi?" Each question went unanswered and unacknowledged, but Maedhros did not give up. "Do you know that we are here? Do you know who we are? Do you remember anything of your life…or your death?"

At the final word, Curufin’s eyes met Maedhros’. There was a flicker of…something…and then it was extinguished by the mindless hate he would never grow accustomed to seeing there. In hope, his hand strayed to his chest, and he fingered the green jewel. Then he looked to Amrod and Amras, and saw that they were heartsick at what they had seen. He picked up the lantern, and gestured for them to release Curufin. For the first time, he was able to leave without Námondur’s help.

"Celegorm, I beg of you…."

"So you are here to change my mind."

"Yes, if that is how you see it. I do not care about your mind; at the moment; I only care that it is the one tool I have left to reach Curufin. And I swear to you, I will use every tool I can." Maedhros stood just inside the door of Celegorm’s room, a lantern and walking stick in his hand.

"What of the twins? Will you use them?"

"I already have. They restrained him well enough, but what good is that when he will not talk? He does not even recognise us, Celegorm."

"Maedhros, think about what you are saying," Celegorm said quietly. "He does not talk. I do not see. How are we to communicate with each other?"

"I do not know!" Maedhros cried in exasperation. "But there must be some way…."

"Are you certain? Neither Lord Námo nor the Lady Vairë assured you of that."

He clenched his fist and resumed his restless pacing. "Will you not at least try?"

Celegorm worried his lip and did not face Maedhros. Finally, he said, "Give me the stick, then."

Maedhros handed over the walking stick without another word. He was too anxious to gloat. Celegorm steeled himself, then opened the door and stepped out for the first time. Maedhros took his elbow, and led him to Curufin’s cell.

As he had promised, they met no one until they reached Námondur. The guard was as unchanging as ever; he let both of them in. Maedhros put the lamp down quickly, fully expecting to have both arms occupied by an attacking Curufin.

True to form, Curufin lunged at him, and he had to sidestep to avoid him while allowing Celegorm to enter the room, tentatively feeling with his stick.   Maedhros busied himself with the awkward task of fending off his brother's fiery hot spirit.  "I have brought you another visitor," Maedhros informed him, not expecting a response. 

But the strangest thing happened when Curufin saw Celegorm’s face. He recoiled, with the usual snarl. But as he panted, the look of horror on his face revealed not only hatred but also recognition. Maedhros did not waste the opportunity, but trapped one of Curufin’s arms behind his back and locked the opposite leg in place. He hoped he could restrain him, at least until Celegorm got his bearings. Curufin stumbled backwards, but did not escape.

"That got your attention, did it?" Maedhros asked, bending his head to speak at Curufin’s ear. He kept his eyes on Celegorm, though.

"Am I that startling?" Celegorm asked, half-joking but with honest concern in his voice. His white eyes glowed eerily in the dim lantern light.

"Dead. You’re…dead. I saw you…" Curufin’s voice rasped in brittle disuse, one word churning over another like rocks tumbled in a stream. Maedhros nearly let go of him in shock.

"Yes," said Celegorm simply. Maedhros did not retort with all the scathing remarks that occurred to him. He was afraid to disturb whatever fragile balance had led to the return of Curufin’s speech. And so he did not point out that they were all dead, or that Curufin and Celegorm had died in the same battle, or….

Celegorm took a few steps forward, tentatively reaching out. Curufin flinched back into Maedhros’ grip. "Do not touch me!" he called out in fear. Celegorm stopped, nonplussed, and dropped his walking stick. Seeing how deeply Celegorm was cut by those words, Maedhros got angry at Curufin. How dare he!

He pulled him backwards, and shoved him up against the wall. "Why do you recoil? You have not hesitated to pummel the twins, or me. Why this sudden respect for Celegorm?"

"Maedhros?" Curufin asked, with the confused voice of one just awakening.  "He’s…dead," Curufin repeated.

"And so am I! And so are you! When will you accept that fact, you stubborn, willful, blind…." He winced; his own choice of words was little better.

"No, I’m not," Curufin retorted, throwing off Maedhros in his anger. Only to come up short when he faced Celegorm. Celegorm grabbed his brother by both shoulders, and Curufin found it more difficult to elude him than the maimed Maedhros.

"If you were alive, you would not be in the Halls of Mandos," Celegorm said.

"I am not…"

"You would not be deprived of your hroa," he continued inexorably.

Curufin just wimpered, and struggled to get away from Celegorm’s grasp again.

"If Maedhros lived, he would be missing his right hand, not his left."

Curufin quickly turned to look at his oldest brother, and saw that Celegorm was indeed correct.

Celegorm smiled grimly when he realized his distraction had worked.  With that, he put Curufin into a chokehold, and inexorably pressed down. "And if you were alive, you would need to breathe." He did not let up. At first Curufin struggled. Then, he panicked, desperately trying to escape. He clawed at his assailant’s face, to no avail. But finally…nothing happened. Still Celegorm did not let up. He spoke into Curufin’s ear. "Tell me, brother, do you need to breathe to speak?"

"I hate you!" Curufin snarled at him, and was shocked by the implication. "I’m not dead! I’m not! I did not die! You did!"

"We both did. Maedhros saw the bodies. Why don’t you ask him?"

Curufin glared at Maedhros. "How did Celegorm die?" he asked.

Maedhros realised his brother was still in the vault of Menegroth, still trapped in his final battle. At least his language seeme to have returned. "You ought to know; you were there," Maedhros retorted. "But you were killed by that slice in your side," he said, gesturing at Curufin.

Finally, Celegorm let go his chokehold, and one hand went to Curufin’s side, finding the wound. "It’s still there," he said in surprise, and a little fear. Maedhros was again reminded of how maimed they all were.

Curufin broke free, and stepped away from both of them. "What has become of you?" he asked in fear.

"We have been healed of some wounds, but not of others," Maedhros answered. "We have accepted the judgement of the Valar, and are free of our Oath."

Curufin laughed harshly. "Even the Valar could not free you of that. We swore by…"

"You need not remind us of the words," Celegorm said sharply. "We will never forget them either. But the Valar can and did release us."

"You lie."

Maedhros shook his head. "What will convince you of the truth, Curufinwë?" he asked wearily in Quenya. "You are dead, which is why you stand here conversing with Celegorm," he said, switching back to Sindarin. "You will get nowhere until you accept that fact, and submit to the judgement of the Valar."

"Why should I trust them? Why should I let them judge me? They have always hated and mistreated our house…"

"You are more blind than I am," Celegorm said quietly, cutting him off. "Let us leave him, until he is ready to hear reason," he said, addressing his words to his oldest brother.

"No! Don’t…go…yet," Curufin pleaded. Clearly, it cost him something to beg like that; he must be very afraid to set aside his pride, Maedhros thought.

Slowly, he took off his green jewel. He held out the necklace to Curufin. "May this comfort you until our return." Curufin took it suspiciously. "We’ll leave the lamp as well. You have more use for it here than we do."

"Your guard’s name is Námondur. Call on him if you need anything," Celegorm added.

It was difficult for Maedhros to just leave Curufin like that, but he saw that Celegorm could not take much more of this. The pain had been evident in his face ever since he’d touched the wound in Curufin’s side.

For the first time, Curufin did not have to be restrained as Maedhros left. He was still full of bitterness, with much hatred and anger, but…at least he knew them. At least he was Curufin again. There was room for hope now.

Maedhros and Celegorm returned to Curufin’s cell many times, both singly and together. The twins were more reluctant, but eventually Maedhros convinced them that he was improved enough to recognise them, so it would be completely different. It was not a pleasant visit, but they both returned, always together. Finally, they even convinced Caranthir to come with them. Though Maedhros was not there that time, he heard of the visit afterwards. Celegorm became more confident in moving about on his own, but still he did not allow Maedhros to tell anyone else about him. He accepted Curufin as more damaged than himself, but did not want to face the twins or Caranthir…and certainly not their mother. Maedhros was not happy with this arrangement, but reluctantly agreed, for the time being.

So, it was a complete shock to everyone when the twins left Curufin’s cell one day only to meet Celegorm standing outside, about to go in.

"You’re…here," Amrod blurted out needlessly.

"And…out," Amras added, thoroughly confused. "Why have we not met before?"

"I…" Celegorm began, and then stopped. It was too late to flee. And he did not want to explain. "I was visiting Curufin."

"So were we," Amrod said. Celegorm marvelled that their voices were still as distinct as ever to him. For a moment, he had been afraid he wouldn’t know them apart.

"What is the stick for?" Amras asked. "Have you become an old man here, or are your rooms so far away?"

"Neither. I…" he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

"Why don’t you look at us?" Amrod asked, and he realized he would not be able to hide it.

"I cannot see, alright?" he bit out. "Now out of my way; I was here for Curufin, not you." He made to force his way past them, but they would have none of it. They grabbed him by a shoulder each, and pushed him backwards a few steps.

"Not so quickly. Are you not the least bit surprised to see us here?" Amrod continued.

"Why would I be? Any elf who dies finds their way here."

"But we lived when last you saw us," Amras insisted.

Caught! "I…I thought…well, you are here, so you obviously died," he finished lamely.

The twins looked at one another. Someone had told him about them. And about Curufin, too, seemingly. That someone had to be their eldest brother.

"Maedhros!" they both called in unison, impatiently. He had some explaining to do!

*Maedhros!*

He heard the cry, and knew who had called him. It seemed…strangely urgent. When he realized his steps were leading him towards Curufin’s cell, he was filled with a deep misgiving. What had happened? He picked up his pace.

When Maedhros arrived, Celegorm was seated, sulking. Seeing his blind brother, he stopped short. The twins sprang up as soon as they saw him, accosting him. "Why didn’t you tell us?" Amrod demanded. Celegorm tensed, waiting for Maedhros’ reply.

"I had my reasons," Maedhros replied. "And if I chose to keep some things to myself, it just might have been because I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it." Celegorm relaxed, realizing that Maedhros wasn’t going to tell them that he had…had refused to visit any of them. "It seems I was right."

"Now, that isn’t fair…" Amras protested.

"Isn’t it?" Maedhros looked at both of them, and the twins fell silent. "You meet your brother at long last and what do you do? Upset him and call for me. You are lucky I let you know about Curufin when I did, you…."

Amrod didn’t let him finish that thought, shoving him against the wall as hard as he could. Maedhros was taken off guard, but quickly fought back. Amras came to his twin’s defence, and even Celegorm leapt up to join the fray. Vaguely, Maedhros expected Námondur to break up the fight, but he did not intervene. Maybe he only did so when called upon? Not worth finding out.

"Boys!"

At that voice, they all halted. The twins sprang away from him, and even Maedhros made some effort to stand a bit straighter and look innocent. The most profound effect, however, was on Celegorm. He dropped to the ground like a stone and hid his face. It was hard to tell, but Maedhros thought he might even be trembling.

Nerdanel merely crossed her arms in front of her and looked at them each in turn. "I thought you knew better," she said quietly. The twins looked down guiltily. Somehow, this was all their fault. She walked over to them and straightened their hair, brushing at their shoulders, then turned to Maedhros. "Is this how you managed them?" He said nothing. Then, she turned to Celegorm. She put a hand on his shoulder, gently, and he flinched. "Get up, Tyelkormo. I want to see you." Her voice was tender, as if they were all still children.

Maedhros winced. At that moment, he deeply regretted not telling her the moment he met Celegorm. He was trying to figure out how his brothers could manage each other, when their mother was right here all along. And now he’d led her into a misstep.

Reluctantly, Celegorm stood, but he kept his face turned down. Still, he was taller than Nerdanel, and she had to look up at him. She brushed the hair away from his face. She gasped when she saw his eyes, and hugged him fiercely to her. They both wept.

Maedhros turned away and looked at the twins, who were both looking down, awkwardly. "No harm done," he murmured to them. "This was all my fault."

"Why…why didn’t you just tell us?" Amrod asked again. Maedhros chose not to answer. Let Celegorm tell them himself…when he was ready to admit his folly.

Nerdanel broke the embrace, but did not take her hand from his back. She turned to face the others. "Now who is going to tell me why Námondur had to call me here?"

Maedhros cleared his throat, but then stalled. This was so much harder without Maglor standing at his back!

"How do you know Námondur?" Amras asked.

"He has been giving me updates on Curufinwë," she answered.

Maedhros looked up sharply. "You mean…you knew?"

"They are your brothers, but they are my sons. Of course I asked after all of you!"

"It’s my fault," Celegorm said quietly. "I caught the twins off guard, and…."

"And we called Maitimo, to find out what was going on," Amrod finished.

Nerdanel just shook her head. "I should not be surprised."

Amras grinned at her impishly. "Awww, but we wanted to surprise you!"

"Though, not quite like this," Amrod admitted.

Nerdanel turned away from them, but was not able to hide her smile. "Námondur, do you think Curufinwë is up for a visit from all of us?"

"Whether he is ready or not, you may visit him now," the Maia answered gravely.

Nerdanel nodded, and then resolutely opened the door. Her four sons followed her in. Curufin did not need to be restrained any longer. He looked at them all suspiciously, but he was more…subdued…than usual. "Why are you here?" he asked them abruptly.

"I wanted to see you once before I left," Nerdanel said.

The others all looked at her in alarm. "You’re…leaving?" Amrod asked.

She nodded. "Very soon."

Celegorm took the news the worst; he started weeping again. Curufin, for once, did not react in anger, as he had to most any other statement he’d heard. Maedhros suddenly felt as though he had squandered his time. Why did he not visit his mother every chance he had? Why had he not said and done everything he had wanted to do with her?

"Mother…why are you dead?" Curufin asked at last.

"I grieved to lose all of you," she answered simply. "But here I have met you all again, and been healed of my grief. I can bear the loss now."

"Maglor is not here," he told her.

"No, he is not. I will wait for him in Valinor; he may come to the Lonely Isle some day, and then it will be good to know that he has family still in the Undying Lands."

Námondur opened the door behind them. "It is time," he said.

Nerdanel kissed Curufin on the forehead. "Farewell, my son. Take care." She fingered the jewel he wore, the one that Maedhros had given him. "Do not forget your life in Valinor. Perhaps you will return to me some day." She stepped back, and for the first time, Curufin cried. Not in anger or fear, but real tears…healing tears.

With a last longing look, she turned and left. Her other sons followed her out, subdued. Another Maia stood by Námondur. "Please, follow me," she said, and Maedhros recognised Rossëanna’s voice. As she led them through the halls, Maedhros caught Celegorm’s elbow, to help guide him. After a time, he recognized where they were headed. It was the way to Celegorm’s room. Or so he thought.

They arrived at the Sunrise Hall, and Maiar flanked each entrance. One was waiting with Caranthir, as his escort. Nerdanel entered first, followed by five of her seven sons. Lord Námo and Lady Vairë awaited them.

Maedhros looked around, and saw that more Maiar stood within the room, holding torches. The tapestries around the walls were now ablaze with light. His eyes met the Lady’s, and he remembered that she had told him that this room was not built for him. It was for…it was for those who would be reborn. The first sunrise…in the West. No wonder I thought of my Mother when I first saw it, he thought.

"Nerdanel, we rejoice that you have found healing for your fëa in these Halls," Námo said.

"May you return to life and hroa with joy and renewed strength," Vairë added.

"I thank you, for all that you have done here, but most especially for reuniting me with my sons who are in your care. Please continue to watch over them, when I cannot." Her gaze strayed to Maedhros; he had told her that he would be here until world’s end.

"When you leave these Halls, you will leave behind Fëanáro as well," Námo said. "Never again will he rejoin you in life. The choice of Finwë is before you; if you would choose another, you may have him."

Her sons looked horrified when they understood the Vala’s words.

But Nerdanel shook her head vehemently. "Fëanáro, and no other, has my love. I have born seven sons, and my heart is full. My choice was made long ago, when the Trees yet shone. I will abide."

Vairë nodded in acceptance. "It is well you have chosen thus; you are indeed a strong woman of the Noldor. Not even the Valar could have asked you to make this choice, but we do commend you. May you be at peace."

Then Nerdanel bid each of her sons farewell, embracing and kissing them for perhaps the last time. She could hope to be reunited with some of them again, but not for many long ages. She went to Caranthir first. He did not cry, but she hugged him fiercely all the same. Then the twins, kissing them each on both cheeks. They both broke down, the tears streaming down their faces. She kissed each of Celegorm’s eyes, and the tip of his nose, to make him smile. "My beautiful son, do not tarry here overlong," she said. For his part, he ran his hand over her face, memorizing the contours. She came to Maedhros last. "Look after your Father for me," she whispered to him.

At last, she was ready. She turned from her sons, and walked towards the Lord and Lady of Mandos. And then…she walked with them through the wall depicting the Sun rising over the Pelori for the first time.

When she had vanished, Maedhros turned and looked at his brothers. "What…what are we going to do now?" Celegorm asked, forlorn and alone sounding.

Maedhros embraced him and admitted, "I have no idea."

 

Table of Contents | Leave a Comment