Finding Lost Family by chrissystriped

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Chapter Five

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Ecthelion stood at the ship’s rail, taking care to not be in the way of the sailors. The Teleri had agreed to take the army across the sea, but they hadn’t fought in the war – and they treated the formerly exiled Noldor rather coolly. Ecthelion could understand it. What had happened at Alqualonde had been horrible. He had blood on his hands, too.

He closed his eyes and held his face into the spray. He didn’t know if he just imagined it, but the salty air was good for his scars, they itched less since they had reached the sea.

He was glad that he didn’t have anything to do for the moment, the last weeks had been busy. He had talked politics for the Angband-Elves and the orcs. Despite Finarfin’s intervention it had again come to friction between Angband-Elves and Amanyar. Ecthelion gritted his teeth, some of the Vanyar seemed to think they shouldn’t be counted as Amanyar anymore. He had said very clearly what he thought of such arrogance. He hoped it would get better once they reached Aman.

Their numbers had dwindled a little, many Nandor and Laiquendi had decided to stay behind, but others were coming along. Many of those who had been undecided had decided to sail after they came to the sea and met the Teleri. Their people had been separated for a long time, but they were still kin. Ecthelion pushed a strand of hair behind his ear.

He was relieved that the Valar had decided to take the orcs to Aman. He didn’t think they would kill them now and to take them to the Blessed Realm was almost like accepting them as elvish. Ecthelion hoped for a quick decision but he didn’t delude himself. The Valar weren’t known for rushing things and they had sentences to pass.

Ecthelion shook his head and turned his thoughts to his home. His mother and sister waited there. How would it be to meet them again? How would they react to his scarred face? He knew he wasn’t the only one who worried about this. Some of his people had found their spouses, children, parents at the army’s camp and reactions had been varied. It needed time. Time to heal wounds. Time to make their relatives understand that their loved ones had changed in Angband.

 

Ecthelion took a deep breath before knocking at his parents’ house. Sharû and his men had been dropped off on Tol Eressea, they would stay there until a decision was made as to what would happen with them – it had been thought that it would lead to fewer problems if they didn’t set foot on the main land.

For the Angband-Elves – and all those who didn’t have a home to come back to – a camp had been made before the gates of Tirion. Ecthelion hoped he had a home to come back to, he didn’t know how his mother would receive him. She had turned back with Finarfin’s people after the Kinslaying and the Prophecy. They had fought, she had wanted him and father to come back, too, but they had been stubborn and the loyalty to Turgon had made them walk on.

It was Indo who opened the door. His eyes widened, Ecthelion wasn’t sure if it was surprise at seeing him or startlement at seeing the scar on his face.

“Ehtele?”, he whispered, before catching himself. “My lord?” He allowed him entry with a bow.

“Indo.” Ecthelion had tears in his eyes. The elf was his mother’s oldest servant, he knew him since his birth. He had treated him so condescendingly so often. “Forgive me.”

Indo looked surprised at him. “For what?”

“For being a conceited, stupid boy. I’m sorry for not treating you with the appreciation you deserve.”

Indo smiled kindly. “That was long ago, but I accept your apology, my lord. Your mother will be overjoyed to see you. Do you want me to take you to her?”

“Please.”

Ecthelion felt himself tremble. Would she really be happy? Or would she reproach him? Would she maybe look at it like so many of the Vanyar? That he should have rather died than let himself be abused?

Nivwen sat in the garden room and painted, the patio door was open and let in the scent of the blooming orange trees.

“My Lady”, Indo said with a bow and Nivwen looked at them with a polite smile, “your son is here.”

Ecthelion saw the moment she recognised him in her face. Very carefully she put her brush aside, her hand trembled, before she stood up and came slowly closer.

“Ehtele”, she said with trembling voice and lifted her hands to his face. “My boy, is it really you?”

“It is me, emya”, Ecthelion answered with a sob. “Can I come home?”

“Oh, my boy.” Nivwen embraced him and Ecthelion clung to her. “Of course you can come home. You don’t have to ask! I thought, I’d never see you again. And then Earendil said you were dead, fallen in battle. But you are alive! How?”

Ecthelion gulped as she caressed his scarred face. He was afraid to tell her, afraid of her judging him for it. So many elves didn’t understand what it meant to be a slave. He led her to the couch and sat down with her.

“I was badly injured in the battle but I wasn’t dead – and not so badly hurt that they would have finished me off. Morgoth needed slaves and they took me to Angband.”

Horror stood in Nivwen’s eyes. “And you survived that?”, she whispered.

Ecthelion’s heart clenched and he looked at his hands to not have to see the emotions on her face.

“Yes, I did.”

Nivwen touched his cheek so he would look at her again. “I don’t know what you went through, but it is over and you are home. I’m so happy that you are home.”

“If you knew what I have done...”

Nivwen shook her head. “Nothing you have done could cost you my love. I’m your mother, Ehtele, I’ll always love you. Do you want to talk about it?” Ecthelion shook his head, he was crying again.

“Not today”, he answered.

“Come here”, she said gently. “Rest your head in my lap, yonya.”

Ecthelion closed his eyes as she stroked his hair, that was slowly growing in again, and relaxed. He didn’t know when he had felt that secure the last time. He was home and whatever the future had in store for his people, he was loved here.

 

Sharû followed the ships that had dropped them off on the island with his eyes. His men were busy erecting their tents. He was glad to be on firm ground again, the waves had made him sick and he had always been aware of the deep water under him. The sea had been their enemy. He wasn’t sure if it still was so, the Valar hadn’t yet decided, though Ecthelion thought it a good sign that they had taken them to Aman.

Sharû turned around when he heard his name. A group of elves had come out of the forest, they were carrying hunting bows, arrows on the string but not yet aimed at them. Sharû saw a few of his men get a tighter grip the hammers they had used for the tent pegs. They didn’t have weapons, but they would use whatever they could to protect themselves. Sharû ordered them to pull back and slowly walked up to the elves, his palms raised.

“The Valar gave us this place as campground”, he said, not sure who was their leader, they all wore green-brown hunting clothes.

“I know that”, one of them said. “I’m Prince Maiwe, my father is Olwe, King of the Solosimpi, he agreed to this. We trust in the Valar to make the right decisions. I only want to make sure that you know that you are on our land. Tol Eressea is important for my people, it was our home for a long time and many of us still come here often. We have conditions.”

Sharû bowed his head in greeting. “My name is Sharû. We are ready to do what is necessary to live in peace with you.”

“If you meet one of us in the forest, we need you to draw back. We know little about you, only dark stories, none of my people should feel afraid to come to the island. You aren’t allowed to fell trees for firewood, there is enough dead wood you can gather. Should the Valar decide that you can stay, we will ascribe trees you can fell for houses, not before.”

“We are going to abide by your conditions, Prince Maiwe.”

It would be more tedious to gather firewood than to fell trees for it, but he realised that they needed the goodwill of the Solosimpi.

“Good. What do you eat?”

Sharû blinked surprised. “How do you mean that?”

“The island is not big enough for you to subsist on hunting alone. We won’t allow you to kill all our deer. If you are exclusively meat eaters we have a problem.”

Sharû shook his head. “We enjoy meat, but we eat grain and other plants, too.”

Sharû hesitated. They were soldiers, none of them knew how to farm. He decided to say nothing. Ecthelion had promised to come back soon and they had supplies for a few weeks. He would speak with him, surely there were a few Angband-Elves who were ready to teach them.

“That’s good. We won’t forbid you to hunt, but we are going to give you a limit you can’t exceed. If you want to do us a favour, hunt rabbits, it is a fight to keep the population small.”

Sharû had to grin. “I think we can live with that.”

Maiwe nodded brusquely. “We’ll allow you to arrive in peace now. I’m going to come back.”

It could have been a threat, but to Sharû it didn’t sound like it was. These Solosimpi were a lot less aggressive than the Noldor, maybe because they hadn’t fought a war against them.

“Until then, Prince Maiwe.”