Darkened by reindeer_pizza

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Chapter Three

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“Everything that is, was, or will be is part of the Great Song,” Melian began. “Through careful manipulation of each thing’s inherent connection to the Song, we can perform great feats. Some people have an innate connection with particular pieces of the Song. Your connection with stone and metal, for example.”

Eöl nodded. They were wandering through the starlit woods outside of Menegroth, Melian leading the way with no apparent destination in mind.

“The Song within individual things can come together to create greater melodies. Doriath has a Song, composed of the Songs of all the plants, birds, beasts, elves, and earth within it. If you listen carefully, you should be able to hear it, and through this Song, learn what the forest knows.” Melian came to a stop. “Open yourself and try to listen.”

Eöl nodded again. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He tried to spread his awareness out to the forest as he did with the metal on his anvil. His ears twitched and strained, flicking after every rustle in the undergrowth.

Melian gave a soft laugh and his eyes snapped open. “You look like you’re about to explode. Here,” she took his hand and pressed it to the rich, damp earth. “Try connecting just with the earth. But don’t force it. Open yourself and extend your fëa towards the Song.”

He closed his eyes again and tried to open himself. It was a challenge. He was so used to building up walls to keep others out that it also trapped him in. He could feel the hum of the forest, dangling tantalizingly just beyond his grasp.

Perhaps the forest was simply too large. He hummed, trying to listen for the Song of any nearby stones. A few hummed back, buried beneath the loam. Rocks were simple things, with no will of their own. Yet, there was still that familiar resonance that would respond to his hums. That must be the Song Melian spoke of.

He changed his tune, trying to push past the simple stones, to the earth that surrounded them. The Song was similar enough that the jump wasn’t too hard. He stayed with the earth learning the notes for the pieces within it. Stones, yes, ground so small and fine that each individual grain could barely be seen, but other bits as well. Bones and leaves, cast off dead things that would feed the next cycle of life. The roots of the trees, forcing their way through the ground, searching for the light little melody that was the water hidden deep below. Threading through it all was life. Teaming life, mushrooms and flower roots and worms and bugs and small invisible beasts he didn’t have the words for. The more he looked, the more saw. The more he listened, the more heard.

“Eöl. Eöl!” Melian’s voice snapped him out of the music.

He blinked and looked around. “What?”

“It is good that you can hear the Song, but you were going too deep. As the Song enters you, you enter the Song. If you aren’t careful, you can lose yourself,” she explained.

“What happens then?” he asked.

“I don’t know what would happen to you,” she said. “But it greatly diminished me.”

“Oh?” he asked, wiping the dirt from his hand as he stood.

“You have heard of the forest to the east of here, Nan Elmoth?” she asked.

“I have. Your people say it’s cursed.”

“That isn’t quite true. It isn’t cursed in the traditional sense. Neither the Great Enemy nor any of his servants sewed discord there. But it has been strongly affected by magic. My magic, though it no longer recognizes me and has grown wild and fey,” Melian said, her eyes growing distant with memory. “When I first met my husband, we stood in that forest, entranced by each other. I delved into his Song, and the Song of the forest. But I was foolish, and didn’t know when to stop. My magic got away from me, and changed both my love and the land around us. Thankfully, he seems to not be too scarred by my mistake. The same cannot be said for Nan Elmoth. The magic darkened, and it twisted the plants and animals within. What was once a place of love has become a place of great danger.”

“Is that how the elves here changed?” Eöl asked.

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed some physical differences between the Sindar and my people, more than can be accounted for by being distant relations,” he said.

“Such as?” Melian asked.

Eöl didn’t speak, instead wiggling his ears. They were larger and far more mobile and responsive than any Sindarin elf’s, who could only shift them a little. The Sindar also had far smaller fangs and claws than him, and while his eyes were slit, their pupils were round, though he was unsure if that was due to a difference between their people, or if it was because none of the Sindar had been twisted in Angband.

“I am not doing what they did to you in Angband. I am not intentionally changing my husband’s people,” she said.

“Yet they have changed all the same. Though I am glad, for their sake, that the change appears to have been painless. But I do wonder what you will do to me, should I stay for a long time. I have changed enough.”

“And you will change more, though not through any work of mine,” Melian said. “Even elves change, though it is a very slow process. To live is to change. You will grow, learn, adapt. Even now you are different from the elf who first visited Doraith with dwarves.”

“Is it a change for the better?” Eöl asked.

“Only time will be able to tell.”

~*~

“It’s disgusting, really. How can your mother even stand to be around that thing?”

“She claims he is skilled with the Song.”

“More skilled than you or your sister? Or any others that live here? What makes it so special?”

“I’ve certainly never heard it sing.”

“It probably sounds like a toad.”

“Surely a toad’s croaking would sound sweet in comparison to whatever noise orcs call singing.”

“At least the queen’s favor keeps it on a tight leash. Imagine if she couldn’t reign in her pet.”

“Please, he’s not a pet. He’s…a, a curiosity if anything. I’m sure she only took him on out of pity.”

“I suppose you would know. Is it true that it only eats raw meat?”

“A word of advice,” Eöl said, rounding the corner to face the gossips. He could hear them flapping their gums from several hallways away. “If you’re going to yammer about things that don’t concern you, do it where you won’t be overheard.”

Daeron at least had the sense to look ashamed, but his friends did not.

“Why should I care what a beast thinks of me?” one said, stepping closer to Eöl. “I’ll say it louder. You don’t belong here. Even if you were an elf you wouldn’t belong here. The Unwilling made their choice. You refused the call, and now you’re taught by our maia queen? Why should some marred freak get an honor denied to the rest of us?”

“I agree, you were here first. So tell me, if she won’t teach you, what does that say? Because I think it reveals a lot more about you than it does about me,” Eöl said.

The elf reared back and threw a punch at Eöl’s face. Eöl caught his fist and dug his claws in. The other elf tried to free himself, but Eöl’s grip was iron. His struggles caused blood to well up around where Eöl’s claws pierced his flesh.

The other in the group started towards Eöl. He hummed, connecting with the earth beneath their feet. The ground shifted and rose up, clinging to their legs and trapping them. They cursed and shouted at him.

“You were the ones who were curious about my singing,” Eöl said. He glanced over at Daeron, the only one who hadn’t tried to attack him. “You should pick better friends, my prince.”

He shoved the elf who had tried to punch him back, knocking him into the dirt. Before any of the elves could free themselves from their earthen shackles, he vanished.

~*~

The bark of the branch he lay on was rough against his back. Faint music drifted through the air, coming from deep within the halls. There was some sort of festival or party going on. He hadn’t been paying much attention. He had attended a few after his move to Menegroth, but the ever-present whispers had grown to a poisonous hiss. Better to stay out in the woods and practice what he was being taught.

He gazed up at the stars through a gap in the leaves. He extended his fëa towards them, trying to connect with them as he did with Doriath. He could feel them just beyond his reach, their Songs too faint for his ears to catch no matter how hard he strained.

“Why am I not surprised to find you out here?” a familiar voice asked.

He pulled his fëa back. “Hello, princess.”

Luthien laughed. “Is there a reason you’re not at the feast?”

“I have no desire to be gawked at,” he answered.

She climbed up the tree and sat on a nearby limb. “The stares do get tiring after awhile.”

“They stare at you because you are their beautiful, beloved princess. They stare at me because they're still waiting for me to snap and start killing people,” he said.

“It can hurt to be placed on a pedestal as much as being thrown in a pit,” she replied.

He let out a bitter laugh. “I hope that you never see the pits that I have. You are meant for starlight, not darkness.”

“So are you,” she said. “All elves are made for starlight.”

“You must not have heard,” he said, injecting false cheer into his voice. “I am no elf, merely the queen’s pet orc.”

“Who called you that?” Luthien asked, rising in her anger.

He waved her off. “It isn’t worth the battle. The words have been said many times by many lips. And they aren’t precisely wrong.”

“You aren’t an orc!”

“You’re not denying the ‘pet’ bit,” Eöl pointed out.

“You aren’t that either,” she said.

“No?” he asked. “I am a curiosity. Your mother generously allows me to learn magic, and she generously allows me to stay, despite my marring. How kind of her to take pity on a poor, lonely Cuindi, I mean Avari. Or perhaps it’s not generosity at all, but a desire to keep a dangerous thing on a leash.”

“If you resent her this much, why do you stay?” Luthien asked. “She would not hold you here.”

“You misunderstand me. I don’t resent the queen,” he clarified. “Most of your family has shown me more kindness than I was expecting. It is your people that I grow weary of, the whispers haunting my steps, the expectations placed on me because of what I am, what was done to me. I would happily stay in these woods forever if there were no other elves about.”

“You still sound like you want to leave,” she said.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the stars above. “I’ve found myself growing restless lately. There’s something pulling me, calling me. I want to answer that call.”

“Do you plan on coming back?”

He nodded. “At least to visit. I still go to see my friends under the mountains. I would not treat you as less than them.”

“What’s it like? Beyond the edge of Doriath?”

“Beautiful. Terrifying,” he said. “There are vast plains of grass, and when the wind hits them just right, it looks like a golden lake as the plants dance in the breeze. There are places so dark that no light can penetrate, so the plants and animals produce their own light, like living stars. Up north, there are places where the water freezes and turns white, only leaving when spring arrives, bearing new life and flowers. Yet through it all, there is danger. The Enemy, yes, and all his monsters, but that isn’t the only source. Your mother taught Doriath to be kind. The rivers don’t flood. The rain is gentle. The scars of the ancient battles have long healed over. But out there? I will not say the world hates us, but it doesn’t give a damn if you live or die.”

“Despite that, I still wish to explore it some day.” Luthien said.

“I’m sure you will. I can’t imagine anyone being able to stop you, if you truly put your mind to it,” Eöl said.

Luthien smiled at him. Then, her expression changed as she looked at something behind him. He turned and saw a streak of white shooting across the sky. It grew brighter and brighter as it passed low over their heads. They lost sight of it as it moved east. After a few minutes, there was a low rumble and the earth shook.

“What was that?” Luthien asked.

“I don’t know,” Eöl said. “But I’m going to find out.”