The Sea Comes for Helevorn by Himring

The Sea Comes for Helevorn

Once famously beautiful, the valley below Mount Rerir now lies desolate. The shores of the lake have been ravaged by orcs again and again. Fires have swept across it and each time the green growth struggled harder to grow back. Now there are no trees or bushes left; sheltered by the broken stone of Caranthir’s house, one cankered briar rose holds out where once a fountain played in the courtyard. The birds and beasts that could leave are gone, fleeing as far as their wings or paws would take them.

The dwarves of Belegost have long shut and barred their front gate. They pass out of their mountain by secret doors and hidden paths, when they leave it at all. None take the old track through the valley. It is far too exposed to hostile eyes.

It is not only the lake’s shores that are ravaged. On the surface of the lake that was once pure and dark like smooth glass, grey ash drifts. And its waters are fouled with decay.

All that is visible to the naked eye, but worse is the malice that has been seeping from the North, out of Angband, too long unhindered, gradually permeating earth and water both, poisoning, twisting.

She who was once Helevorn has retreated to the bottom of the lake. She is no longer fighting back, barely resists, lies trapped, mutilated, rendered dumb and savage, as Morgoth turns more and more of the substance of her own lake against her.

Into the deathly silence comes the abrupt convulsion of the first earthquake, followed by a series of aftershocks. The slopes of Mount Rerir shiver. Cliffs begin to crumble, rocks big as houses come tumbling down all the way to the shore.

More earthquakes—and then suddenly Morgoth’s grip loosens. The shock of the release is so overwhelming that, to her, it feels like searing pain. It jerks a howl out of her.

In the continuing turmoil, there is little time to process or adjust. Already in more southern and western parts of Beleriand, the Sea is far advanced. She has not yet fully grasped that Morgoth is gone, when a gigantic wave comes up the valley of Gelion and another across what once was the plain of Lothlann. The waves crash into each other and smash against the foot of the Ered Luin. Mount Rerir breaks. Churning waters pour into Helevorn with stunning force.

Ulmo has come for her. The defilement that imprisoned her is washed away. Morgoth’s decay and malice cannot stand against the salt waters of the Belegaer. She is free.

Much is lost forever, also. The remains of Caranthir’s house are obliterated, as well as anything else that still endured there. That last obstinate rose is crushed and drowned.

She herself is free, but not healed. And her healing will be long, even though Uinen shall come and wrap her in seaweed and sing to her. She is still too numb to enquire. But nevertheless, on her finger, she still bears Caranthir’s ring.

Chapter End Notes

This was originally written for Finwean Ladies Week 2021.