Darkened by reindeer_pizza

---

Chapter Four

---

His horse stepped nervously from side to side, unwilling or unable to move closer to the edge of the trees. He peered between the twisted trunks, trying to make out any shapes in the murky shadows. The air was warm and the stars twinkled a friendly greeting overhead, yet Nan Elmoth seemed to suck in all light and heat, an inescapable black hole.

He could turn around, forget this nonsense. No one had asked him to seek the falling star. Even when he had mentioned it to Melian, she had seemed uninterested. There was no guarantee the star was even in the dark woods. It could have fallen beyond the forest, or even been destroyed during its descent.

He dismounted and patted his horse’s neck, trying to reassure her. Not letting go of the reins for fear she would bolt, he stepped closer, raising a hand and pressing it to the rough bark of the nearest tree.

He knew Doriath, was used to Doriath. Doriath was a hound, lazing by the fire, warm and content and sleeping, yet ready to rise and defend its master should it be called on.

Nan Elmoth was not Doriath.

Nan Elmoth was awake.

Stranger. Stranger. Stranger. Strange. The message pulsed through the trees, passing from root to root through the dark earth. Branches rustled in a non-existent wind, creaking and groaning as the trees spoke to each other.

“Everywhere I go, I am a stranger,” Eöl said. “But I do not wish to harm you. I am seeking something, something I think may have landed in your heart.”

The star’s light, burning bright
Leaves reaching, branches seeking
Pain and crashing, branches thrashing
Rip and tear, dark despair
Heaven’s wrath, a broken path
Seek the stone, flesh and bone

Eöl blinked and pulled his hand away. “Does this mean I may enter?” he asked.

The trees shifted and pulled back. It wasn’t a true path, merely an opening between the trunks. He tried to lead his horse through, but she wouldn’t budge. He glanced between her and the woods.

“Thank you for bringing me this far,” he said, stroking her nose. “I can make my way from here.” He let go of her reins. She nudged him, then once she realized he wasn’t coming, turned and raced away.

He stepped into the woods, sticking to the almost path the forest made for him. He wandered for over an hour before he found the first signs. He turned around a large tree and saw the unmistakable trauma of a large object crashing through the woods. Broken branches were scattered everywhere, and a few of the smaller trees had even been felled. He touched one of the shattered trunks and felt an echo of the tree’s dying scream. The tree was gone, but the forest remained, and would remember.

He followed the star’s trail of destruction, finding more broken branches and twisted trunks. When he reached the end, he was surprised by how underwhelming the star was. For all the damage it had caused when it carved its path through the woods, it wasn’t very big, barely coming to his waist. It also wasn’t particularly pretty. It didn’t shine and was a dark, dull gray.

Swallowing his disappointment, he lay a hand on the stone.

Who are you? the star asked. Its voice was weak, and if it had lungs, Eöl would have said it was gasping out its last breaths.

“Eöl,” he replied. “Who are you?”

I once was Anglind, but alas, I can no longer claim that name. While I once was fair, I listened to the Great Enemy instead of my Lady and allowed his shadows to enter into my heart. I can see clearly now, but it is too late. My Song is ending, alone in the dark, Anglind replied.

“Not alone,” Eöl said. “And I can make you fair once again, though you will not look the same. I can work stone and metal to make beautiful things.”

I do not want to be beautiful, Anglind said. I want to strike against the Enemy. That is my last wish. Make me into a weapon, that I may strive against the darkness even after my death.

“I will,” Eöl promised. “I will make you into a sword, and you will be able to drink the blood of evil-doers to your heart’s content.”

Thank…you…Eöl… Anglind whispered. The star said no more.

Eöl looked around. Anglind’s descent had left a clearing in the heart of Nan Elmoth, as well as making plenty of fuel in the form of broken wood. He could make a crude forge here.

He could sense the trees watching as he worked, though they didn’t interfere. He gathered the branches and trunks and set the wood in a pile, making a clear space. He hummed as he worked, discovering the Song of Nan Elmoth.

There were a few familiar elements, a trill here, a harmony there, little touches that reminded him of Melian. However, the forest had created its own music, building on the base the maia queen had laid to make something entirely new. Yet even in this new cadence, there was something familiar, though it didn’t sound like Melian.

It sounded like Eöl.

Or at least, it sounded like the darkened part of his Song, the tune that had been corrupted by his time in Angband. He wasn’t sure where the darkness had come from in Nan Elmoth, but there was no denying its presence. It didn’t frighten him like it once did. This darkness was simply part of Nan Elmoth, like it was simply part of him.

He built his forge, crude as it was, and melted down Anglind, refining the star-iron ore into something usable. It felt good to work with his hands again, doing the motions that were second nature to him. As he worked the star-iron, he heard how the darkness had woven its way into Anglind’s Song as well.

He pulled on everything he knew as a smith and everything he learned from Melian to forge the star-iron. The Song flowed through him and his connection to the metal and the forest, drawing the three of them, Eöl, Nan Elmoth, and Anglind, closer and closer, binding them together. He poured his very fëa into the twin blades that took shape beneath his hands, forged with fire fueled by Nan Elmoth.

At last, at last, the swords were complete. He didn’t know how long he had been in his creative trance, though he knew it must have been a few days based on his hunger.

“You will be Anguirel,” he said to the first sword. “And you will be Anglachel,” he said to the second. He smothered the forge fire and lay down, the two blades at his side, Nan Elmoth keeping watch as he slept.

~*~

“You’re back!” Luthien said, dragging him into a hug. He staggered under the enthusiasm of her greeting, still not recovered from the creation of the star blades.

“I said I would return,” he said.

“You didn’t say that to us,” Melian said as she and Thingol entered the royal family’s sitting room. “You passed beyond my sight almost a month ago. Where have you been, my apprentice?”

Eöl gave the queen and king a small bow. “Forgive my absence. I went searching for the falling star in Nan Elmoth.”

“And what did you find?” Melian asked.

Eöl laid a bundle on a table. He unwrapped it to reveal the two swords. “These are Anguirel and Anglachel, made from the star Anglind. It was the star’s wish to be wielded against the dark.”

The princess and king leaned in to more closely examine the blades, but the queen pulled back as if expecting the swords to leap up and attack.

“How can they be wielded against the dark when they are of the dark?” she asked. “Eöl, what have you done?”

“What do you mean?” Thingol asked. “The swords don’t seem evil to me. They are beautifully made, and either would be an honor to bear.”

“Can you not hear the darkness in their Song?” Melian asked. “They were made of corrupted material, in a corrupted forest, by…” she stopped.

Eöl crossed his arms. “No, please, continue. What were they made by?”

Melian sighed. “I meant no offense. But you are surely aware that your Song was changed by your time in Angband. That change will be passed on to your creations. Anything that holds a piece of your fëa will also carry the stain of Angband.”

“Are you saying that everything I make is doomed to be tainted by what was done to me?” Eöl snarled, his ears slicking back against his head. “Will I never be free? What’s the point of being away from that hell if I carry its curse with me?”

“You are alive, you are safe, and you are still yourself. That is more than most who enter Angband can say,” Melian said.

“Yet I am not whole, and apparently everything I make will only spread its stain further. Why bother to teach me if I’m so cursed?” Eöl asked.

“I had hoped that by teaching you about the Song and Music that we would be able to remove the remaining traces from you,” Melian said, “But now I believe to do so would kill you. It is too tightly entwined in your fëa. I’m sorry, but you will forever be darkened.”

“I see,” Eöl said. He rewrapped the blades and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Melian asked.

“Somewhere my presence will not be considered a blight,” he growled.

“Wait!” Luthien said as he opened the door. “Please don’t go, you just got back.”

“I’m sorry, princess,” Eöl said before slamming the door behind him.

~*~

Nan Elmoth did not seem surprised by his return. The leaves rustled in greeting as he stepped beneath the shadowed bows. He made his way to the clearing that held the remains of his forge. He fell to his knees and rested on the dark earth.

Why do you weep, little shadow? the wind through the branches asked.

Eöl touched his cheek, but his fingers came away dry. “I’m not crying.”

We feel your tears all the same, the crickets chirped. Your soul is in pain.

“What could you know of my pain?” he asked.

You’re lonely, a fuzzy bee buzzed.

Poor little shadow, a stalking beast purred as it circled the clearing on silent feet. Your people are gone.

The dwarves were kind, but you could never fit in, never belong with them, an owl hooted.

The elves are disgusted by you, a cluster of pale mushrooms chorused. ”There, but for the grace of the Valar, go I.”

You were never a person to the queen, just a project, the ground beneath him rumbled. Even if she couldn’t fix you, she could keep you on a leash, stop you from hurting others.

“What’s your point?” Eöl asked. “Do you think me a fool? Do you think I don’t know all of this? What do you want from me?”

Stay with us, the forest said. We see you and we know you. We are like you. We too have been changed and darkened by forces outside our control. We were once full of light and love, but now we are abandoned and hated. Stay with us, little shadow.

“Everything has a cost,” he said. “What will staying cost me?”

You be of Nan Elmoth
You will be of us
You heart will belong to the forest

The woods echoed in his mind with a hundred different tongues.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

You may go where you wish, the trees said, but you will never truly leave us, nor we you. You will carry us in your heart, and we will give you strength, safety, love.

“I’m so tired of being alone,” he said, slumping down, his cheek pressing against the forest floor.

Branches reached down as roots reached up, wrapping him in a living cocoon.

You will never be lonely again.

~*~

Thingol picked his way through the underbrush, his guards flanking him as they made their way deeper into Nan Elmoth. He had fond memories of the forest but time had taken its toll, turning the once beautiful woods into a place of danger. If he had his choice, he wouldn’t be here at all, but Melian had asked, and he would not refuse her. Now if only he could find that blasted Eöl!

The shadows grew denser beneath the bows of an ancient tree, solidifying into the shape of an elf.

Eöl bowed his head. “Hail, King Thingol. To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

His eyes gleamed in the faint light of their torches. The months away from Doriath had been good to Eöl. He stood taller and had gained muscle. His armor was strange though, like darkness made solid, and he moved with an unnatural grace, more like that of a wild animal than a proper elf.

“I come bearing the words of my Lady. She wishes to apologize for what she said before you last departed,” Thingol said.

Eöl didn’t seem interested in his words, barely paying him any heed. He was more focused on analyzing the elves Thingol had picked to accompany him.

“What is she apologizing for? That she said the words, or that I heard them?” Eöl asked, still not looking at Thingol. “Many share the same sentiments. Including the one on your right. How did your hand heal, by the way?” he said to the elf in question.

They stiffened. “Fine. Didn’t even scar.”

“Pity. I hope the lesson sank in, at least. Or do you still gossip about people with Daeron?”

Thingol coughed. “Their actions are irrelevant. Melian is sorry that you were hurt. She would have come here to deliver her apologies herself, but was unsure how you would react to her presence. She hopes that you will return with us to Menegroth.”

Eöl paused, seeming to mull the idea over. “No.”

“No?” Thingol asked. “What do you mean, no?”

Eöl examined his claws. “I have no interest in returning to that nest of vipers you call a home.”

“Then where will you go? You can’t stay here,” Thingol said, indicating the gloom of the forest. “It’s far too dangerous.”

“Why can’t I stay? No one else wants us. Why shouldn’t we stick together?” Eöl asked. “I understand Nan Elmoth in a way you never could, oh bright King Thingol, filled with the light of the Trees. What do you know of darkness?”

Thingol rolled his eyes, thoroughly unimpressed by the spooky act Eöl was putting on. “Understand it or not, it is still part of my domain. Meaning I decide who has leave to reside within it.”

“Nan Elmoth does not recognize you as its master,” Eöl said.

“Oh? Does it recognize you instead?” Thingol scoffed.

Eöl laughed, a rough, grinding sound. “Nan Elmoth has no master, other than itself. We have embraced each other, but neither commands the other. We are a partnership, outside your laws.”

“Be that as it may, I will not simply hand the forest over to you. It is precious to me as it is where I first beheld my Lady. You may not have it simply because you have spoken with it,” Thingol said, trying to get a hold of the situation.

“What would you demand as compensation?” Eöl asked.

Thingol thought, casting his mind about for what the strange, mutilated elf could possibly have that would rival the value of the forest. Unbidden, the image of twin gleaming blades rose before him.

“The star swords,” Thingol demanded. “Give them to me, and Nan Elmoth is yours.”

“More trinkets for your treasury, my king?” Eöl sneered. “I will not give them to you. They deserve more than to be forgotten in a hoard.”

“Then I will have you removed from this forest,” Thingol signaled to his men.

Eöl took a step back. “Wait! I will not give them both to you. But I could be convinced to part with one, in exchange for exclusive rights to Nan Elmoth.”

Thingol held up his hand for his soldiers to wait and made a great show of thinking it over. “Very well. One of the star blades and you become Lord of Nan Elmoth.”

Eöl stepped closer and unstrapped Anglachel from his back and passed it to Thingol.

Goodbye, Eöl, the blade whispered as it left his hands. Thingol didn’t appear to hear it.

“I believe that concludes our business. Unless you have a message for my wife?” Thingol said.

“I am grateful for her help and what she has taught me. I hope we will meet again someday, but for now, I wish to be alone with my forest,” Eöl said.

“I see,” Thingol said. “I hope your wooden kin bring you peace.”

Eöl watched as the king and his men left his forest. “I hope that as well.”