A Star In The Darkness by Gabriel

A Star In The Darkness

​​A heartfelt thank you to Grundy for her beta of this story.

Nimeryn - White Forest

Read A Star In The Darkness

A Star In The Darkness

 

“Is this it?” Aegnor asked with an air of excitement. His horse had halted at the top of a small hill overlooking a vast plain of patchy snow and forests encircled by mountains. He turned in the saddle to look at his brother ambling up behind him with a large contingent of warriors and the standard  of the House of Finarfin flapping in the wind.    

 

Angrod chuckled at his brother’s enthusiasm as he reined in his mount beside him. The woman seated at his back gasped in wonder as her gaze swept over the vista before her. 

“It’s so much more beautiful than I envisioned,” Eldalotë said optimistically. Angrod cupped a hand over hers around his waist and squeezed it in answer.

 

He whirled to regard Captain Nimeryn at the forefront of his men. She was steely-eyed with thick snowy white hair. One of Annael’s people, and one of the best scouts and hunters

 in Beleriand. 

 

“Nimeryn! We shall make camp here,” he commanded, sliding off the horse and reaching to help his wife to the ground.

 

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Hours later when the sun had vanished behind the Echoriath mountains, Angrod was seated before a campfire vaguely listening to his men whilst slowly running a whetstone down the edge of his sword. There was a sudden peel of laughter, and Angrod chuckled to himself. It was good to see the men enjoying themselves.

 

"Shouldn't they be working? We only have an hour left of daylight and there are still tasks to be done." 

 

Angrod whirled in his seat to find Nimeryn standing a few feet away with one hand resting on the hilt of her sword, eyeing her men critically.

 

"They need some enjoyment in their lives, Nimeryn,” Angrod commented quietly as he paused over his blade. "I do not see the harm."

 

“l do not want them to become complacent, being so close to Angband and all,” she replied, a troubled expression upon her face.

 

"I know," Angrod agreed. "But most of their duties have been done. Let them have this time, while they can."

 

Nimeryn huffed a sigh. "Very well, my lord," she acknowledged, dipping her head respectfully and turning away.

 

Angrod stared after her until she vanished beyond the circle of tents. She was right, of course. Caught up enjoying their new found freedoms, it was easy to forget why they were here in the first place. His gaze shifted to the black storm clouds roiling in the distance and suddenly realised he had not seen his wife since supper. He remembered her vaguely mentioning something about collecting wild flowers for her journal. 

 

Eldalotë was a keen botanist. Any chance she had to discover and document new species of flora would find her lost to craft for days. 

 

His eyes frantically searched the surrounding area until he  found her seated on a log at the edge of the camp. He breathed a sigh of relief and left his task, sheathing his sword and laying it against a fallen tree, he made his way across the encampment to join her.

 

As he approached he noted that she had abandoned her journal, placed beside her with an assortment of foliage carefully arranged on top. She was sitting a little stiffly, her arms hugging her body and her gaze fixed on something in the distance.

 

Angrod spotted a flower poking up through the snowmelt and plucked it up making sure to hide it behind his back as he approached.

 

“You are very quiet, my love.”  

 

He halted behind her, watching her shift uncomfortably.

 

“Are you certain we will be safe here?” Her tone sounded more than a little reticent. “With HIM watching our every move?” Angrod followed her gaze to the distant plumes of ash and smoke and quickly closed the gap between them, slipping in beside her and gathering her in his arms.

 

 “I wouldn’t worry too much about Morgoth, we’ve barely seen anything of him since stepping foot in these lands. Besides, he now has the entire House of Finwë to contend with. Uncle is over there,” he pointed toward the distant mountains of Ered Wethrin. “And Fingon beyond, Maedhros to the south east with Maglor below us and Finrod to the east. So you see we are not entirely alone."

 

Eldalotë leaned against her husband letting her shoulders slump and tension slip away at his encouraging words. Angrod took this opportunity to open his hand revealing the white star-shaped flower he had picked a moment ago. 

 

"The first flower in a new land," he stated, with a smile.

 

His wife's face lit up. "Oh! It is beautiful!” her voice was hoarse with emotion as she straightened to pluck it from his grasp. 

 

“I think this is as good an omen as any that all will be well," her husband continued. He caressed her cheek, his fingers finding the silvery mark on her cheekbone, a remnant of a battle fought at the first rising of the sun. "Come," Angrod made to stand holding out a hand to her, "We have much to celebrate." 

 

Eldalotë grasped her journal with renewed enthusiasm, tucking the books and precious flora carefully under one arm, and pressing the other into her husband's waiting hand. 

 

 "And so much to discover," she added, as she twirled the flower between thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

 

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