The Line of Kings by Michiru

Ereinion

Orodreth's last impression of his son.

First Age Year 465

He rejected my farewell kiss, seeming much older than his mere ten years as he solemnly told me that I would never send him away if I loved him. I have had this same conversation with Laegalad, who will not accept that the Fëanorians are untouchable at this time, despite all my reasoning. He rejected his father-name as well, spitting it back in my face like a curse and announcing, "My name is Gil-galad," and breaking my heart in the same breath.

I wonder now that I could have once done the same to my father, that he had restrained himself from falling upon his face and weeping on the spot; but of course, I do now as he must have done then. Breathe in, breathe out. Our children must never know their words are like daggers in our hearts. Smile, blink away the tears, allow Celebrimbor to set him up on the horse in front of his mother, for he will not allow me to touch him, even just one last time. But of course this is repayment also, for did I not flee my mother's outstretched arms when Darkness fell in Aman, not then knowing that I would never see her again?

Finduilas loops her arms about one of mine, for I will not let her grasp my hands; she seeks comfort, and their trembling is the only thing that breaks my composure, and would surely set her weeping. Gwindor, her beloved, is also mounting a horse; he will serve as an escort beside Celebrimbor, the only two willing to deprive me of my wife and child. I hate them as fiercely as I hate Morgoth in this moment, for no logic on earth could have moved me to send them away without protection, but of course I am being irrational, so I breathe in and breathe out and keeping smiling, as Finrod did when his people turned on him.

It almost seems simple, this false tranquility, and I think I can go back and take stock of Nargothrond's larders, as my father might have done in Dorthonion, or mediate between the Trees' Friends and the Iron Guild as my uncle so often had done.

But then, because she is my wife and loves me even though she will never again feel affection for me, Laegalad checks her horse at the gate and turns to see me one last time. The dawn's rays silhouette Gil-galad's slender frame in rays of soft gold, bringing out the buried strands of blond in his hair and casting the rest of his face in shadow. Laegalad raises one hand in farewell, and I can feel her sorrow and anger and still-burning love through our bond. Gil-galad remains motionless in front of her.

The last I see of my son, he is a faceless stranger, who might not be a child at all, but a rider far-off, with the sun illuminating his path, and his past, whatever it contained, far behind, lost where it cannot reach him. Even as the tears are finally wrung from the depths of my grieving fëa, I pray.

Let such be his future.

Chapter End Notes

So here we are, several years after I initially wrote this story, and it's finally all posted. Of course, the danger of taking so long to post something you wrote years ago is that you mature as a writer, and see places for improvement in your earlier work. So it is with Line of Kings for me. I'm currently in the process of trying to figure out if I should undertake heavy revision of this piece, and what form that revision should take if I do. But despite that, this piece holds a special place in my heart. I'd like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed and stuck with me through my erratic posting schedule.

This is by no means the end of the Line of Kings verse; I'm working on a sequel that follows through with Gil-galad's adventures through to the end of the Second Age. And also possibly a novel-ish length piece taking a look at Valinor at a time when many of the Exilees are being rehoused, and the tensions that result from that. Both are still very deep in the planning stages, but keep an eye out if you're interested.

On a more technical note, yeah, I'm kind of fudging canon a little bit by sending Celebrimbor away from Nargothrond now, when The Silmarillion tells us that he remained in Nargothrond to repudiate the deeds of his father and uncle upon their banishment. I balance that out with the argument that this at least provides an explanation for how he avoided dying in the sack of Nargothrond.