The Light of the Sun by grey_gazania

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The Light of the Sun

I'm making use of an earlier origin for the Elessar that Tolkien ultimately discarded, but which I like. In the early draft, the stone was created by Fëanor in Valinor. Upon his death, it passed to Maedhros, who later gave it to Fingon as a gift. In my verse, Fingon gave it to his daughter just prior to the Nírnaeth Arnoediad.

 

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When Morgoth’s forces broke through the walls of Eglarest, they broke through with a suddenness and ferocity that Ereiniel had never before seen. The city had been under siege for months, of course – the orcs and their vile engines battering away, hurling rocks and clinging fire at the walls or, sometimes, over the walls and onto the buildings below – but the people of the Falas had put up a strong resistance.

 

Ereiniel herself, like many of the other adolescents, had spent the past months running messages from one part of the city to another, or otherwise fletching an endless number of arrows – too young to join the actual fighting, but still doing what she could to defend her home. In fact, fletching arrows was what she had been doing when the wall was finally breached and the orcs poured into the Eglarest, killing and burning as they went.

 

What Ereiniel had done then had been stupid. She realized that later, and admitted it freely. But when she’d seen the smoke and heard the screaming, she had run, not for the ships that had stood waiting for months, ready if the people should have to flee the city, but rather for the Houses of Healing, desperate to find her mother.

 

She never made it there, however. She was fielded by Gurvadhor, one of her father’s captains, who had come to Eglarest in the aftermath of the Nírnaeth Arnoediad. He spotted her, grabbed her by the arm, and began pulling her back to the shipyard.

 

“Wrong way, Ereiniel,” he said, towing her along.

 

“I need to find Nana!” she protested.

 

“No, you need to get to safety,” Gurvadhor said as he manhandled her onto the nearest ship, depositing her beside Maewen, her best friend, who was already aboard with her own parents. 

 

"But what about Nana?" Ereiniel said again, desperately this time. She would have climbed back to her feet had Maewen's mother not taken hold of her waist and tugged her down.

 

"I will find her," Gurvadhor said. "I swear it. But you must stay here. You must not get off this ship. Promise me, Ereiniel."

 

The wind blew a thick billow of smoke over them, making Ereiniel’s eyes sting, but she managed to master her terror and desperation long enough to say, “I promise.”

 

Gurvadhor nodded, and then turned and fought his way back through the crowd of people streaming towards the ships.

 

The orcs had spread through the city like locusts, and some of them ceased their burning, putting their torches aside and pulling out bows, with which they began to fire on the fleeing survivors. The scramble to board the ships became fiercer, accompanied by more screams and the sound of approaching death.

 

Once everyone who could fit had boarded, the captain cast off, the ship pitching up and down in the rough surf. Even as they left the shore, the orcs continued to fire upon them, and Maewen's mother pulled her daughter and Ereiniel down to lie flat on the deck. A few arrows struck the side of the ship, sticking in the wood, but they were fortunate; none of the passengers were hit.

 

Braglanen stood at the stern, firing arrows of his own back at the murderous creatures. Others rowed hard until at last they were out of range, and then the sail was raised. Their speed increased as it caught the wind, billowing out against the smoky sky.

 

Ereiniel turned her gaze back to her fellow passengers and was horrified by what she saw. At least a third of those aboard were wounded, some heavily so. Her neighbor Lothrin's young son was wailing in his aunt Ólwen's arms, for his mother lay supine on the deck, groaning in pain each time the ship rocked. Her arms and chest were black and weeping with burns, and the sick smell of charred meat hung in the air around her.

 

An unfamiliar woman knelt beside Lothrin, her face grave. "I can't heal this," she said, her voice cracking. "She’s too badly burned, and we don't have the medicine I need."

 

Ereiniel looked back at Lothrin's son and bit her lip, one hand going to the pucker in the front of her tunic, beneath which lay the Elessar. Unbidden, the words that Madam Ithrin, her tutor, had spoken when Ereiniel had shown her the Elessar after Fingon’s death echoed in her head.

 

It is said to have powers of renewal and healing.

 

She steeled herself and made her way to Lothrin's side. "Let me try something," she said. Her voice shook a little, but her jaw was set with determination.

 

"What can you do?" the healer asked, more harshly than she perhaps meant.

 

In answer, Ereiniel unclasped the chain around her neck and let the Elessar fall into her own open hand.

 

"By the stars," Ólwen breathed. "Is that--?"

 

"The Elessar," Henthael, Fingolfin’s former scribe, said, awe written plainly on his face.

 

The Falathrim around them looked mystified. "The what?" Braglanen asked.

 

"The Elfstone. They say it has healing powers," Henthael told him. Fixing his eyes on Ereiniel, he said, "Do you know how to use it?"

 

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I can try."

 

Lothrin was senseless with pain, so it was her sister who said, "Do it. It's not like you can make things any worse."

 

Ereiniel nodded. Looking up at the sky, she found the sun and then positioned herself so that she could hold the Elessar right in its light, the rays passing through it to leave scatters of green across Lothrin's charred, blackened chest. Then she fixed her gaze on the gem.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Gritting her teeth, she stared at it more intently, focusing on the way it glowed in the light. Slowly, the sounds around her fell away -- first the voices of those watching, then the cry of the gulls overhead, and finally even the lapping of the water against the hull. The light of the sun was filling her up, blooming inside her, spreading all the way from her heart to the tips of her fingers. The gem seemed to pulse with it, flashing with each breath she took. She was inside the sun, surrounded by its warmth, its purity, and she could feel its energy flowing out of her and into Lothrin, glowing under the woman's skin until Lothrin, too, was filled with light, bleeding light--

 

Someone grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, sending her plummeting back to earth.

 

"Ereiniel," Henthael was saying. "Ereiniel."

 

Green sparks were still flashing in front of her, and she blinked her eyes until her vision had cleared.

 

Silence reigned on the ship. Ereiniel looked at Lothrin and saw that her chest and arms were no longer blackened, but pink with tender new skin. Lothrin was awake, staring up at her with wide eyes.

 

Braglanen knelt beside them, a blanket in his arms, and helped Lothrin to wrap it around herself as she sat. Then he turned to look at Ereiniel, his gaze serious.

 

"There are others who are wounded," he said. "Do you think you can do that again?"

 

She nodded, for she could still feel a seed of sunlight beating in her chest like a second heart.

 

"I'll separate those I can tend to from those I can't," the healer said, all doubt gone from her face. "Come with me."

 

Ereiniel followed.

 

*************

 

Later that evening, below deck, Henthael left his own makeshift berth and picked his way across the floor to sit cross-legged in front of Ereiniel. She looked worn out, sitting beside Maewen with her eyes closed and her head resting on her friend's shoulder.

 

"How did you come by the Elessar?" he asked her quietly. He could guess, but he wanted to hear it from Ereiniel herself.

 

Ereiniel blinked at him and slowly sat upright. "Ada gave it to me," she said. "On his last visit to Eglarest, before– before the battle. He said I should keep it safe. But it was Madam Ithrin who told me what it is."

 

"I remember when Lord Maedhros gave it to your father," Henthael said. "It was at his formal coronation, the year after he sent you and your mother to Lord Círdan." Something that wasn't quite a smile tugged at his mouth. "I remember the shock most of us felt, that Fëanor's son would willingly surrender one of his father's creations."

 

But then, Maedhros had also willingly surrendered the position of High King. After that, perhaps giving up the Elessar had not been so difficult.

 

He tapped the fingers of one hand against his knee. "I remember what he said to your father," he told Ereiniel. "Not the exact words, but he pledged his love and loyalty, and he spoke of how Fëanor had once used the Elessar to heal the lady Nerdanel. He said that he prayed your father would be able to use it to bring healing to Hithlum." Watching the girl's face closely, he added, "But Fingon never did."

 

Ereiniel didn't rise to the bait. Instead she said, "Madam Ithrin says Ada didn't know how. She said its secrets died with Fëanor."

 

Maewen had been listening intently, and now she spoke. "How'd you figure it out?" she asked. "Nana says what you did was wondrous. She says it should've been impossible."

 

Ereiniel lifted one hand to cover her mouth as she fought back an exhausted yawn. "Madam Ithrin had a theory," she said, “that maybe it worked by focusing the light of the Two Trees. So I thought -- the sun is the fruit of one of the Trees. Maybe it could use sunlight, too. I took it out in the sun sometimes when I was alone, and it was almost like it had a heartbeat. And then when I saw Lothrin..." She shrugged. "She was hurt. I had to try."

 

"What was it like?" Henthael asked, looking at her intently. She looked so much like her father, but the set of her jaw when she'd walked to Lothrin's side -- that had been pure Fingolfin. That was the look her grandfather had worn as he’d led them across the Grinding Ice, and again when he’d buried his youngest son.

 

It was the look he’d worn before he'd ridden off to face Morgoth.

 

Now, though, Ereiniel was frowning, clearly searching for the right words. "I was inside the sun," she finally said. "And the sun was inside me, and I was full of light. Then the light went through me and into Lothrin. I don't know how else to explain it."

 

"It was amazing," Maewen said softly. “But it was a little scary, too.”

 

Henthael reached out and placed his fingers beneath Ereiniel's chin, tilting her head up so that their gazes met. “I would have followed Fingolfin to the gates of Angband, if he had asked it of me,” he said. “I saw him in your face today. I saw an echo of my king."

 

Ereiniel's blue eyes were wide, but she didn't answer.

 

He didn't need her to. Patting her shoulder, Henthael said, "Get some sleep. You need it. You as well, Maewen." Then he got to his feet and returned to his makeshift berth.

 

*************

 

They reached Balar a week later, but found that they were only the fifth ship to arrive. Círdan met them on the shore, his beard still singed and his left arm resting in a sling. "Bring your wounded there," he told them, pointing to a row of tents on the ridge above them.

 

"We have none," Maewen's mother said. She gave Ereiniel a light shove on the shoulders, pushing her to the front of the crowd. "Ereiniel has-- something, a stone of some sort. She used it to heal them."

 

Círdan looked down at the girl. She was a little pale, but the determination written on her face made her look more like her father than ever. She was holding out her left hand, and he looked down to see a silver brooch resting on her palm, a finely detailed eagle set with a green gem.

 

"Tell me where to start," she said.

 

"The leftmost tent," he told her. "Only one ship has arrived from Brithombar, and most of the passengers are wounded. Several died while they were at sea."

 

She squared her jaw and made her way up the ridge, Henthael following her.

 

Ianneth was there, at work in the tent, but when she saw her daughter step inside she flew across the packed earth to gather Ereiniel in her arms, half weeping with relief. "Oh, thank the stars," she said, burying her face against the top of Ereiniel's head and holding her tightly. "Gurvadhor said he saw you safely to one of the ships, but I was so worried, love."

 

Ereiniel hugged her mother back, but the Elessar was still clenched in her fist, and the seed of sunlight was welling up inside her once more. "Lord Círdan sent me to help, Nana," she said, stepping out of Ianneth's embrace and holding out the brooch. "Ada gave me this, and I've figured out how to use it. But I need to be outside for it to work. I need the sun."

 

"She really can use it," Henthael said from behind her. "I've never seen anything like it, my lady."

 

Ianneth nodded, and soon Ereiniel was set up on a rock beside the tent. The healers brought the wounded to her one by one, and she lost herself once more inside the pure light of the sun.

 

By the time night fell, she had healed dozens, Noldor and Sindar both, but the light in her chest had flickered out as the sun sank below the horizon. When the green sparks had cleared once more from her vision, she found her mother and Gurvadhor both kneeling beside her.

 

"Ereiniel?" Ianneth said softly. Her daughter's face was ashen, and there was a dazed look in her eyes.

 

"I'm all right," Ereiniel said weakly. She tried to stand, but her knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground, a whirlpool of dizziness forming in her head, swirling round and round until she thought she might faint.

 

Then Gurvadhor was gathering her in his strong arms, lifting her up and carrying her away. The Elessar had fallen from her hand, and Ianneth plucked it from the dirt before following. They made their way to another circle of tents, in the center of which burned a cook fire. A large iron kettle hung over it, and the mouth-watering aroma of fish stew was filling the air.

 

"Get some food into her," Gurvadhor told the woman beside the kettle, before gently setting Ereiniel down in front of one of the tents. Ianneth sat down beside her, wrapping her daughter in her arms. Ereiniel was leaning heavily against her mother, already seeming half-asleep.

 

Gurvadhor rested one hand on her dark head. "Eat, Ereiniel, and then rest," he said. "You've done a grown woman's work today."

 

*************

 

She slept like the dead that night, but her mother roused her early, only an hour after sunrise.

 

“I’m sorry, love,” Ianneth whispered, trying not to wake the others in the tent. “More ships have come, and we need your help.”

 

She hated to do this. Her daughter’s skin was pale under her freckles, and there were grey-green shadows beneath her eyes. Even though she’d slept, she still looked exhausted. But the two ships that had limped in from Brithombar at dawn were full of the injured, even more so than the trio from Eglarest that had landed an hour earlier. Ianneth and her fellow healers were reaching the limits of their strength, and were quickly running low on supplies.

 

Ereiniel sat up slowly, rubbing the back of one wrist over her puffy eyes, and Ianneth pressed the Elessar into her hand before helping her to her feet.

 

“We’ve all tried to use the stone,” Ianneth said once they were out of the tent, “but it hasn’t worked. If you could teach one of us…”

 

“I’m not sure how to explain it,” Ereiniel said as she stumbled along, her voice still thick with sleep. “I focus really hard, and the sun fills me up with light.”

 

“Then you have your work cut out for you today,” Ianneth said grimly. “We need all the help you can give us.”

 

Sitting on the same rock she’d perched on the day before, Ereiniel quickly saw that her mother hadn’t been exaggerating. If the survivors from Eglarest were in terrible shape, then there weren’t words to describe how badly wounded some of those from Brithombar were. But she forced down the horror she felt at the sight of so many grievous injuries. After all, she told herself, she could do something about this. She braced herself, lifted the Elessar, and fell once more into the light of the sun.

 

Around midday, Ianneth shook her out of her trance for some food and barley water, but apart from that Ereiniel worked without pause until sundown. When she blinked the green sparks from her eyes, it was to see her mother crouched beside her and wiping blood from her mouth; she’d bitten her own lip so deeply that it was bleeding freely.

 

This time when she tried to stand, she really did faint.

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Chapter End Notes

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