Chapter 4: Orders and Oaths
Glorfindel arrayed his equipment on the lawn near the training shed. He had small brightly colored bags of beans and small painted wood stakes that he was lining up in various patterns and designs on the grounds. He heard the approach of elflings before he saw them.
"Glorfindel! What is this?" Elladan was already reaching for a bright blue bag.
"Do not touch!" Glorfindel called. A smile tugged on his lips as the child withdrew his hand as if burned.
"How come?"
"Because I said so."
Elladan and Elrohir stood silently in front of him, words having escaped them.
"Glorfindel?" Elrohir ventured.
"Yes, Elrohir?"
"Are we in trouble?"
"No, Elrohir," Glorfindel replied. "Today we are having a different kind of lesson." He sat down on the ground in front of the twins, motioning for them to sit too. "Being a warrior means more than knowing how to shoot an arrow or fight with a sword or ride a horse. One of the most important things a warrior must learn is how to follow orders. Do you know why it is important for even warriors as small as you to follow orders?"
Both children pondered the question; Elrohir answered first. "So that when you tell us to do something you know that we will do it?"
Glorfindel nodded, then looked at Elladan.
"So that when you tell us not to do something you know that we will not do it?" Elladan blushed as he answered.
"Yes," Glorfindel answered seriously. "Swords and bows and knives are necessary weapons. We use them to defend ourselves, and they may mean the difference between life and death for ourselves or for those we defend. It is very important that you follow orders when you are learning to wield them so that you do not get hurt, and so that you do not hurt others. Are you ready to learn to follow orders?"
"Yes, Glorfindel!" both children replied together.
Glorfindel stood and the elflings quickly followed him. He noted immediately their serious demeanor - backs straight, heads held high, expressions intense - as they fell in line behind him. He stopped at the beginning of the pattern and turned to face his small soldiers.
"Elrohir, may I see your arm?" Glorfindel asked.
Elrohir pulled up the sleeve of his tunic to reveal his black, blue and yellow upper arm. Glorfindel gently smoothed his hand over the skin, noting the flinch of pain. He raised the arm and rotated the shoulder slowly, noting the body language that bespoke of pain while the little warrior bit his lip.
"When warriors train we adjust their lessons to accommodate injuries, for we do not wish to worsen an existing injury," Glorfindel explained. "I am assessing what you can do and what you cannot."
"I can do everything Elladan can do!" Elrohir protested.
"You can do everything; however, it is not wise for you to do everything," Glorfindel explained. He caught the look shared between the twins - Elladan's eyes pleading again for forgiveness and Elrohir's showing his frustration at the topic being raised. Glorfindel smiled inwardly. A tough lesson learned - there are consequences for actions and those consequences sometimes exist after forgiveness is granted. Forgetting could not occur until the wound was healed.
"Stand here," Glorfindel ordered, ignoring the silent communication occurring between the younglings. "When I say 'start', you may follow the path set up with the wooden stakes. Elladan, you are to follow the red stakes and pick up all the green bags you see. Elrohir, you are to follow the blue stakes and pick up all the yellow bags. You must listen to me, for I may change the directions at any time."
Elladan grinned at Elrohir. "This will be fun."
"Start!" Glorfindel called and watched at the elflings ran forward. Elrohir began more cautiously than his brother, following the stakes and being sure to grab every yellow bag he could. Elladan moved faster, occasionally missing a green bag, but moving further ahead. "Elrohir, follow the green stakes now, and pick up red bags."
Elrohir switched immediately, while Elladan stopped and looked expectantly at Glorfindel. When Glorfindel said nothing, Elladan resumed his course. He was just approaching the edge of the clearing when Glorfindel called, "Elladan, follow the yellow stakes and pick up the blue bags now!"
Elladan hesitated for only a moment. There was one more red bag in the tall grass, and he wanted to get it. He reasoned that grabbing the one bag would not take that much time, and then he could switch colors. He ran into the tall grass. . . . and promptly sank into the marshy ground. His momentum carried his body forward, even as his feet mired in the muck. A squeal escaped him as he landed sprawled face first in the mud.
"Elladan!" Elrohir called. He started to run, then remembered his orders. He watched as Glorfindel calmly walked over and picked up the errant elfling by the back of his tunic and set him on his feet. Elrohir's lower lip quivered as he wanted to run comfort his brother, then Elladan turned to face him.
"El, you. . .you . . you are a mud monster!" Elrohir burst out laughing.
Elladan glared at his brother, then looked down at the front of himself. Very white teeth appeared in a grin on his blackened face. "I should go scare Nana! She said there were no such things as mud monsters!"
"Ahem," Glorfindel cleared his throat. "Master Mud Monster, why are you covered in mud?"
Elladan bowed his head slightly, hiding his smile. "Because I did not follow orders?"
"Correct," Glorfindel replied. "If you had stopped when I told you, you would have avoided the mud altogether." Glorfindel walked to the spot in the course where he had Elrohir change course. "Elrohir, come here."
Elrohir walked to Glorfindel, and squatted down close to the ground. "Glorfindel, these are the first snowdrops of the year!" Elrohir delicately traced his finger along a petal.
"Indeed they are. I am sure your Nana will be glad to hear it, too. What would have happened, Elrohir, if you had not followed orders?"
"I would have trampled the flowers," Elrohir said simply. He knew how much his Nana treasured the first snowdrops.
"Let us put away the bags and stakes, and then we will get you cleaned up, Elladan," Glorfindel tousled Elrohir's hair as he stood. "Normally we dunk the mud monsters in the pool, but I think it is a little cool for that today."
Elladan was already shivering. He warmed up with the motion of pulling up stakes and picking up bags and returning them to the armory, but was feeling most uncomfortable as the mud dried on him as they returned to the house. They had just reached the back porch when Erestor and Celebrían appeared.
"Nana, I am a mud monster!" Elladan called in glee as he started to run forward. Glorfindel caught him by the back of the tunic again.
"No mudding your mother!" Glorfindel laughed.
Celebrían eyed her little mud monster up and down, and then turned to Glorfindel. "What happened?"
"I fell in the mud!" Elladan answered.
Erestor caught the twinkle in Glorfindel's eye. "Ah, the famous learning to follow orders lesson, I presume?" When Glorfindel nodded, he continued, "Well, we are quite busy with planning, so we will leave it to you to clean him up and get him into clean clothes. Oh, and you should get that mud out of those clothes soon or it will never come out." Erestor deftly steered Celebrían off the porch and away from the mud. "I suggest you carry him so that he does not get mud on anything in the house!" he called over his shoulder.
"Erestor, we should help him," Celebrían admonished the advisor.
Erestor's eyes twinkled merrily. "Lord Glorfindel is famous for making messes; I think he can figure out how to clean one up for a change."
"Nana wait! You have to come see the first snowdrops!" Elrohir ran after his Nana, taking her hand and pulling her most persuasively back to the training field. "I will be right back, Glorfindel!"
Elladan stood before Glorfindel, who grinned suddenly. He went inside the house, and grabbed Erestor's cloak from the hall. He held it around Elladan while the child stripped, and then he bundled the naked elfling into the cloak and carried him to the baths. If a little mud happened to get on the cloak. . . . .
"Glorfindel!" Elladan grinned at him conspiratorially. "Erestor will be mad!"
Glorfindel merely smiled and began to hum a merry tune.
* * *
A few brilliant smiles later and Glorfindel managed to avoid cleaning both clothes and baths as the house staff stepped in to complete the tasks. Elrohir rejoined them, and with an elfling on each side Glorfindel retired with them to his study. An additional brilliant smile and gracious thank-you brought them cool drinks and snacks.
"Tell me what you learned today," Glorfindel settled the elflings on either side of him on the comfortable couch.
"If you don't follow orders you get covered in mud," Elladan replied.
"Or you trample the flowers," Elrohir added.
"Mud and flowers are meant only to be examples of things that can happen when orders are not followed," Glorfindel explained. "Mud symbolizes any bad thing that might happen, any danger that we might get into that we could have avoided. Flowers symbolize the innocent and good things that might get hurt by us when we don't listen. There will be times when bad things happen and good things are hurt even when we DO follow orders, for we cannot prevent everything. But those that we can prevent, we should. A warrior is bound by honor to this."
Both elflings nodded, and Glorfindel hoped this time-honored lesson would be remembered.
"Are you ready to continue the story?"
"Yes, Glorfindel!" Elrohir cried. "You left off where Ada was born and his ada was off in a ship and his nana was sad because of it!"
"So I did," Glorfindel replied. "Now, do you remember that your grandmother Elwing still had one of the Sillmarilli?"
Both heads nodded.
"Fëanor and his sons had sworn an oath to recover the Sillmarilli from any who would keep the jewels from them. They killed Teleri elves for their ships that they might follow Morgoth to Middle-Earth to recover them. This was the….
". . . first kin-slaying," Elrohir finished triumphantly.
"Exactly. Now Fëanor was killed fighting Morgoth right after returning to Middle-Earth. But his sons were still bound to the oath they had taken, to recover the Sillmarilli at any cost. They attacked Doriath in the second kin-slaying. Three of Fëanor's seven sons died there. But they still had not recovered any of the Sillmarilli. Morgoth had two of them, and Elwing had the other.
"Maedhros was the oldest son of Fëanor, and he had led many battles against Morgoth. His guilt weighed heavy on him over what he had done at Doriath, and especially that he had abandoned your great-uncles, who were just small children, to die in the forest. So even after he knew that Elwing still had the Silmaril in Sirion, he did not act. But he was tormented by his oath. . . . ."
~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~
FA 534 Himring
Maedhros sat in silent contemplation, a scrap of parchment resting on the ground near his feet where it had fallen. He stared at the stars just peeking out through the growing darkness of night and his mind was drawn back to Valmar and life in Aman. In the distance he could hear his brother Maglor singing mournfully, and the words drew forth memory. A long list of his life's misdeeds scrolled before his mind's eye, all ascribable to an oath sworn in loyalty to his father, the consequences of which were not considered or weighed by reason. Swearing the oath had been a rash act that had borne bitter fruit. In their anger and self-righteousness they had battled and killed their Teleri kin at Alqualondë for their fine ships, then betrayed their own Noldor kin and left them to cross the grinding ice of the Helcaraxë on foot, where many had perished. They had killed kin again at Doriath; Dior and Nimloth falling and their young sons abandoned to starve. He had regretted that cruel act against children, attempted to right that wrong, but the Valar were right - all he touched was accursed.
For the lust of the Sillmarilli much blood had been spilled. Who would have thought that crafted gems could have led to such treachery and evil? The Sillmarilli had led to distrust between the Noldor and the Valar; the leave-taking of Aman; the return of Morgoth to Middle-Earth and the endangerment of those living in those lands. For lust of the Sillmarilli his grandfather was murdered; his father killed and most recently three of his brothers slain as they pursued recovery of one of the Sillmarilli from Doriath.
Morgoth. He still held two of the Sillmarilli in his stronghold of Angband. Maedros unconsciously rubbed the stump of his right arm. His memories of being cuffed by his right hand to the wall of the cliffs of Thangorodrim - the stronghold of Morgoth - were strong. Phantom pain plagued him, the pain commensurate with his memory. His cousin Fingon had risked much to rescue him; Fingon would have ended his life as he had pleaded if the Eagles had not intervened. The eagles had lifted Fingon to the cliff; where, unable to remove the cuff, Fingon had sliced off his hand to free him. In this act their houses, which were sundered in the treason at Helcaraxë, were reunited.
Yet the oath still stood.
Word had reached him that Elwing of Sirion yet held the Silmaril won by Beren. It had been brought out of Doriath with her, providing protection and prosperity for those elves living at the Havens of Sirion.
He had sent tidings of friendship to Sirion, friendship that should lead to the return of the jewel, based on the claims of the sons of Fëanor to the Silmaril.
The claim was denied.
He had foresworn his oath after the horrors of Doriath - he did not wish to fight anymore!
Yet the oath held him in torment. A promise made to his father; a promise sworn on the name of Iluvatar -sworn with Manwë and Varda as witnesses! How could he not fulfill the oath? He clenched the fist of his left hand. Honor and loyalty to his father still drove him; the oath still bound him. He had presented his case to the Sirion elves, plainly explained his right - the right of Fëanor - to the jewel!
His plea was rejected.
He picked up the parchment and reread Elwing's words. Their Lord was at sea; no decision could be made in his absence. He crumpled the missive in his hand, his head bowing to touch the paper. He was bound by his oath. He would reclaim the Silmaril. If Sirion fought, their blood would be on their own hands.
He would send one more message, try one last time.
He heard Maglor's voice fade as he finished the haunting verse of the Noldolantë, the lament of the Fall of the Noldor. Fall they might, and as Fëanor had sworn, their deeds would be sung in tales until the end of Arda. Aye, their deeds of great evil, for as Manwë had prophesied all they began, even as good, turned to evil.
Maedhros felt rather heard his brother's approach, and he leaned into the touch of his brother's hand as it brushed his hair back and lifted his face. Maglor smiled at him, and took the crumpled note from his hand. Seating himself next to his brother, Maglor straightened the paper and read Elwing's words for himself.
"She knows the oath we have sworn, knows the words that bind us. Why does she not give up the Silmaril and save herself and her people?" Maedhros asked softly.
Maglor was silent for a moment, then responded, "You mean to attack Sirion."
Maedhros slammed his hand on to his thigh. "For many years they have prospered and grown, and we have let them! We did not chase them to the sea. We have waited; we have offered friendship and laid forth our claim! She denies me with platitudes and excuses that their Lord Eärendil is not present. The Sindar have withheld from us what is rightfully ours for too long!"
There was silence after Maedhros' outburst, as even the night sounds had subsided in submission to his anger. Maedhros clenched his thigh with his left hand, stopping the trembling that appeared whenever this torment overcame him. "I will send one more missive. I will word it most strongly." Maedhros eyed his brother. "But it is time to gather our peoples and our brothers together, for we will act swiftly at the appointed time."
Maglor nodded, his heart heavy. He had little hope that the Silmaril would be surrendered peacefully, yet he too experienced the torment of the knowledge of their unfulfilled oath. And he wondered if ever he would find peace.
* * *
Elwing sat in the window seat of the nursery listening to the roar of the waves as they crashed upon the rocks below her. Tirion cast the light of the moon upon the water and stars twinkled in the sky, and she drew comfort that Eärendil gazed upon the same stars under the same moonlight. A soft sigh and the rustle of bedclothes brought a smile to her lips as she gazed upon the twin sleeping forms of her sons. Elros squirmed in his sleep, kicking the blanket from him and freeing small legs to stretch without restraint. He rolled to his stomach, tucking small legs underneath him. His thumb found its way to his mouth, and he sucked contentedly. Elrond lay peaceful, as always, his blanket tucked neatly around him and one tiny hand in contact with his brother.
"Your father will hardly recognize you," she murmured, pulling the light blanket back over Elros. "Even I am amazed at how much you have grown. It has been long since he has seen you." She paused, her eyes drifting again to the window and the sea. "I miss him so, little ones. I wish he were here to see you grow."
"Lady Elwing?"
Elwing turned to the vague form in the shadows. "Liriel?"
"My Lady, a messenger has arrived," Liriel spoke softly. "You are needed."
Elwing closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath to calm herself. She leaned over the bed of her sons, kissing the soft hair of each precious head. "Please stay with them, Liriel. I will return as soon as I may."
Elwing spared one more glance out the window before gathering her shawl closer about her shoulders and leaving the sanctuary of the nursery. She hurried down the stone hallways to the main hall, nodding to the guard at the entrance before entering. A flurry of activity greeted her.
"Lady Elwing!" Eregdos called. "A messenger has arrived from Himring."
"Maedhros?" Elwing asked.
"Yes, My Lady. He is urging you to reconsider your position and his claim upon the Silmaril," Eregdos answered gravely. "This message is worded most strongly."
Elwing took the parchment in hand and read through it slowly, for as much was written between the lines as could be read in the bold strokes of the son of Fëanor. "The tone has changed again," Elwing said quietly. "He is on edge, more demanding than before." She was silent for a few moments, walking to the window and gazing again to the sea. Eärendil, I need you here, she thought, as she had so many times in the last months.
"Eregdos, I believe we need to answer this request, at least to buy us more time," she finally turned to her chief advisor. "I believe a message should be sent to Cirdan as well. I fear we may need him."
"Your thoughts are my own," Eregdos responded, his eyes resting on the slight form before him. He had protected her as a child. He had carried her from Doriath and stayed by her side as she grew. Her wisdom was sound, yet he feared treachery lurked closer than even she imagined. "I shall send word to Cirdan this eve. Do you wish to compose a letter to Maedhros yourself, Lady Elwing?"
Elwing studied him for a moment. "Let us compose this together. Our choice of words is most important."
"Your last note was worded well," Eregdos replied, his heart heavy. "However I am not sure you are corresponding with one of sane mind. Nonetheless, we will try again."
Elwing set herself to the task of drafting the response to Maedhros while Eregdos composed messages first to Cirdan, calling upon him to return to the Havens in their defense, and his own note, shorter, to Celeborn to inform him of this latest demand. They had fought Maedhros and his forces before, losing their homes and many of their people but not the Silmaril. Their prosperity in the combined remnants of Gondolin and Doriath was surely attributable to the Silmaril.
Messengers were sent a short time later, one to Himring and another to locate Cirdan. Eregdos sat alone with his thoughts and worries, for he knew the sons of Fëanor would not be put off for long. Both Elwing and Eärendil were so young - too young perhaps for the burden placed on them. Yet through them the remnants of Noldor and Sindar had united and the Havens were prospering. But they knew of the treachery of these Noldor only through stories and his heart warned him that tragedy would strike them yet again. This foreboding weighed heavy upon him that he would not be able to protect her much longer.
Elwing returned to her chambers, where she again took up watch upon the window-seat that overlooked the sea.
~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~
Glorfindel stopped as his eyes rested upon Elrond, who had slipped in midway through the story with Istuion in tow. He felt the confusion that he only rarely now sensed in his friend as Elrond relived his own memories of Maedhros and Maglor, and struggled to remember the loving face and hands of his mother. Glorfindel's observation was interrupted by small hands tugging at his tunic, and he turned to the wide eyes and small faces that waited expectantly for him.
"Glorfindel, did Maedhros and his brothers have to fulfill the oath?" Elladan asked, his brow knit in a way very reminiscent of his father.
"That depends on what you mean by 'have to'," Glorfindel forced his thoughts away from Elrond. "In their minds they had to, but those that could hold them to the oath were either gone - like their father Fëanor, whom they had sworn the oath with - or would not want them to hold to the oath - like Manwë, Varda and Ilúvatar. They may have felt they could not be released from their oath, but their minds were lacking wisdom and insight."
Elladan stared at Glorfindel doubtfully, and Elrohir appeared equally confused.
"Come here, ion-nín," Elrond beckoned to them. He drew them both on to his lap, then leaned back against the comfortable couch as he considered his words.
"Elrohir, here is a gold piece that I would like you to hold. It is very valuable, and has great meaning beyond even it's worth to purchase things," Elrond explained, placing the gold piece in Elrohir's hand. "Glorfindel desires the gold piece greatly."
Elrohir turned to Glorfindel and smiled.
"As a matter of fact, Glorfindel has sworn to retrieve that gold piece at any cost. He has sworn it to me that he will do this."
Glorfindel had dropped to the floor and with cat-like movements begun stalking towards the children. Elrohir squealed in delight while moving closer into his Ada's protective arms.
"Glorfindel wants that gold piece back, for though it is not his, he did once possess it."
Glorfindel was closer now, his long mane of golden hair falling about his face like the mane of a mighty feline, his eyes wide and low growls emanating from his throat. Elrohir and Elladan were now standing on the couch, clinging to Elrond, as the great elf-cat was nearly in paw-swiping distance of their legs.
"His every thought is bent on it."
Glorfindel raised his arms to the couch, and Elladan squealed and crawled over his ada and joined his brother.
"He has you in his grip. . ."
Glorfindel pounced, grabbing both elflings and wrestling them to the floor. Elrohir screamed and giggled as he clutched the gold piece tightly, trying to protect it while defending himself against tickling fingers. Elladan was tickling back with both hands, their giggles nearly drowning out their father's voice.
". . . and only two things can save you. You can give up the coin . . ."
Elrohir squealed again, holding the coin in his outstretched hand as far above his head as he could reach.
". . . but it has a great worth, a worth you do not yet understand - you just know you should not let him have it. . ."
Glorfindel had both elflings on their backs, one hand holding each tiny body down as he gently tickled them, and his teeth were in a tug-of-war with Elrohir's fingers for the coin.
"Ada, help!" Elladan called between breathless giggles.
"Help do what?" Elrond called back.
"You are bigger than us!" Elladan gasped. "You come fight Glorfindel!"
"I can not," Elrond replied. "I have sworn never to fight Glorfindel."
"Ada!" Elrohir squealed again.
"Yes, Elrohir?" Elrond smiled as he called back.
"Tell him to stop!" Elrohir yelled.
"Glorfindel, stop," Elrond nudged the elf-lord-cat.
Glorfindel settled enough to turn his head slightly to Elrond. "No."
"Glorfindel! Ada told you to stop!" Elladan was aghast through his laughter. "You are going to get in trouble."
"I swore an oath," Glorfindel growled around the coin in his teeth, "with your ada as witness. I hold to the oath." Glorfindel began to shake his head, shaking Elrohir's arm gently in the process, and his golden mane swept the elflings across their faces bringing forth new giggles.
"Ada," Elladan called, "release Glorfindel from his oath!"
"Glorfindel, I do not hold you to the oath. I never have," Elrond nudged the elf-Lord again.
Glorfindel stopped shaking his head and tickling the elflings, but did not release them.
"I do not have to do this?" he asked, one eyebrow raised at Elrond.
Elrond shook his head.
Glorfindel released the elflings and gracefully rolled over to lie on his back next to them. "Tis good, for I am tired!"
His rest was momentary at best, for two small bodies landed on top of him in quick succession and he found himself being tickled by four small hands. After a few moments of allowing the elflings to be victorious in their attack, he leapt to his feet with all the grace of a big cat and settled himself next to Elrond with a child on each knee.
It took several moments for the twins to regain their breath.
"Ada, why did Maedhros not ask to be released from his oath?" Elladan finally asked.
"He was unable to ask Iluvatar or Manwë directly; but more than that his heart was so unclean from his deeds that he would not have accepted their release; indeed, they had never held him to the oath at all. Maedhros and his brothers were blinded by their greed," Elrond explained. "They could not see the truth in their blindness."
Elladan and Elrohir were quiet for a few moments as they pondered their father's explanation. Elrohir picked up his father's hand and placed the gold coin on his palm, then pressed his father's fingers closed around it and patted them gently. Then he turned his attention back to Glorfindel.
"Glorfindel, can we do that again?" he asked brightly.
Both elflings felt the deep growl rumbling from the big cat before they heard it, and with squeals of delight they slid to the floor and ran for the door, shrieks of delight erupting from them as they heard a thud behind them and the big cat resumed the hunt.
Istuion watched them go with a solemn expression. Elrond stood and caught the young tutor's eye.
"Does Lord Glorfindel have any stories that help them learn numbers?" Istuion ventured.
* * * * *
Chapter 5: Lessons are applied
"I will drop it this time," Elrohir said excitedly.
"I will measure," Elladan responded.
The elflings quickly traded places, Elrohir standing on the chair and Elladan kneeling on the floor. Elrohir fished an acorn from his pocket, and dropped it through the ring Istuion had tied to the pole. Elladan scurried after it as it fell to the floor and rolled, using his string to measure how far it traveled. He carefully wrote down the distance on the parchment next to the word acorn and stood for a moment eyeing the numbers.
"I think I am winning," Elladan finally said.
Elrond stood silently in the doorway, glad again for the little entry into the room that allowed him to watch the room's occupants without being seen. Istuion was waiting patiently as Elrohir decided what object he wished to drop next, and Elladan was already scheming as to what his boon should be for winning. Elrond smiled, pleased.
"The marble will beat the acorn," Elrohir called.
"No, the acorn is lighter," Elladan disagreed. "It will move farther."
"The marble will roll better, even though it is heavier, because it is rounder," Elrohir argued.
Elrond stepped into the room. "Suilad, ion-nín," he greeted his children. < Greetings, my sons.>
"Ada! Come see our expemerent!" Elladan ran to grasp his father's hand and draw him to the activity.
"Experiment," Istuion gently corrected him. "I think it is meal time, though. Are you not hungry?"
"Ada, please let us finish? I think the marble will roll farther!" Elrohir pleaded.
"Please, Ada? I have to show 'Ro the acorn will!" Elladan replied.
"You may finish, then come to the dining room," Elrond laughed. "You may tell me there whether the marble beat the acorn or not."
He nodded to Istuion and smiled, and Istuion returned the smile and nod before returning his attention to his pupils. Elrond made his way to the dining hall and his waiting wife. Celebrían was already present, as were Erestor and Glorfindel and many of the other residents of Imladris. He nodded and greeted a few of the Men who were visiting Imladris before moving to his place at the main table, bending over Celebrían's shoulder for a brief kiss before seating himself.
"Where are Elladan and Elrohir?" Celebrían asked, surprised to see him alone.
"They were not ready to leave their lessons," Elrond replied as he laid his napkin across his lap. He looked up at the surprised faces watching him. "They wanted to finish their experiment," he explained. When no one responded he allowed a smile to creep across his face. "They were having too much fun to stop. It seems Glorfindel's 'way' is rubbing off on others in Imladris."
"The twins were having fun with Istuion?" Erestor asked doubtfully.
"Yes," Elrond replied smugly. "I knew he was going to be a fine tutor. He just needed a little time to develop his teaching style."
Glorfindel grinned. "And his confidence. His mother said he spent all last evening preparing for this lesson. Today's success will breed future success. He has needed that; he came of age during a time when the majority of the adult male elves were away, and his own father and grandfather did not return from Dagorlad. He has much knowledge but little confidence in himself. His mother will be most pleased. "
Elrond tucked that little piece of information away in his mind and quietly listened to the conversations around him. He felt warm fingers grasp his under the table, and Celebrían smiled at him. He felt the touch of her mind to his, and as he allowed her into his heart fully, he felt her love nearly overwhelm him. She had been surprised when a tutor had been engaged for their sons. Her realization that he had employed the young elf because he wished to shepherd Istuion, aid him in becoming the scholar he had the potential to be, gave her a deeper respect and love for this peredhel she called husband.
* * *
"Glorfindel?" Elrohir was grinning as he tugged on the elf-lord's tunic.
"Yes, Elrohir?" Glorfindel turned to the elflings standing behind him. "You are grinning like a cat that has caught the mouse. What mischief are you up to?"
"We need you to help us with our lessons," Elrohir answered, the grin apparently permanently affixed to his face.
"We asked Istuion, but Ada said he needed Istuion's help now," Elladan explained, also smiling brightly.
Glorfindel studied the small faces for a moment. He decided to bite the hook they were dangling. "Very well, I will assist you. What are you learning?"
Elladan produced an old cloak from behind his back. "You have to put this on," Elladan took Glorfindel by the hand and starting pulling him towards the hill, "and come with us."
Glorfindel obediently followed the elflings to the top of the small hill that led to the training field. He put on the old cloak, watching with amusement as the twins each put on a cloak as well.
"Now you have to lie down like this," Elrohir laid himself down on the top of the hill. Glorfindel and Elladan did as directed. "When I say 'start' you have to roll down the hill!"
Glorfindel sat up and looked at the elfling. "I have to do what?" he asked suspiciously.
"It is part of our lesson, Glorfindel! We have to see if big things roll faster than little things," Elrohir explained.
"I am not a 'thing'," Glorfindel answered, one eyebrow raised.
"You are the same as us just bigger." Elladan saw no flaw in that logic as he pushed the big elf back down on his back. He flopped down beyond Glorfindel and bundled his cloak around him.
"I have not rolled down a hill since I was an elfling!" Glorfindel protested.
"Then it has been way too long," Elrohir shook his head solemnly. The solemn look lasted only for a moment though. The grin reappeared. "Ready? Start!"
Glorfindel rolled his eyes and then closed them as he began to roll down the hill. He could hear the twins shrieking with delight and laughing as they began their own descent. His world spun, and he hit a few rocks, finally coming to rest at the bottom of the hill.
Plop! He had just finished moving when one small elfling landed on his chest. He reached up and rolled that body off himself just before --thwack! And the other one landed on his head.
Their bodies stopped long before their giggles. Elladan stood first and promptly fell back on Glorfindel's abdomen, as he was still dizzy. Elrohir crawled over and sprawled across Glorfindel next to his brother. Glorfindel cautiously opened one eye and waited for the world to stop spinning.
"Well?" he asked, tugging on the first dark braid his fingers came to.
"Well, what?" Elladan rolled over to look at the dizzy adult.
"Who was faster?"
"Well you, of course!" Elladan cried. "We already knew that. We proved it in our expemerent this morning."
Glorfindel shook the elflings off himself, eliciting new laughter, and carefully stood. He looked towards the Last Homely House - and sure enough Elrond, Erestor, Celebrian and Istuion all stood on the library balcony -which had a perfect view of the training field. He turned and looked down at the elflings, who were rolling on the ground laughing. With a sigh, he flopped back down on the ground and hugged the elflings who immediately crawled over to him, one on each side.
"Glorfindel?" Elladan smiled sweetly.
"Yes, Elladan?" Glorfindel stroked the dark hair absently.
"Are you are going to get us back for this?"
"Oh, yes, you can be assured of that. I think I will wait until you are old enough to truly make it worthwhile. After all, it is said that revenge is a dish best served cold," Glorfindel answered mildly, still cuddling the elflings. "Time. I will have much time to plan. . . ."
* * *
Glorfindel joined Elrond and Istuion in the study while the twins were still washing hands and faces, and getting much needed drinks of water.
"Peredhel, we are blessed with long life, are we not?" Glorfindel began without greeting as he walked in the room.
"Yes, Glorfindel, some see it as a blessing," Elrond replied, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
"Ada, what does it mean when someone says that revenge is a dish best served cold?" Elrohir asked as he entered the room and went immediately to sit by his father.
"Ah, I believe that means the person wishes to savor their long life," Elrond replied, "and spend much time in thought and planning for the future."
Glorfindel walked to the small couch upon which Istuion was seated and sat down next to the younger elf. He sat very close to said elf - shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee. Istuion scooted to the edge of the seat, but Glorfindel seemed to expand into the space that was vacated.
"Did the 'expemerents' proceed as expected this morning?" Glorfindel inquired pleasantly.
"Yes, my Lord," Istuion nearly whispered.
"The pen-neth learned all they were supposed to?" he further inquired.
"Yes, they seemed to rather enjoy the lesson," Istuion whispered.
Glorfindel leaned close. "That is good. I am very glad to see them applying what they have learned. But be careful - they may appear harmless and adorable, but inside they are their father's sons." Istuion raised his eyes and met the gaze of the Balrog-slayer. Glorfindel smiled, and reached over and grasped Istuion's wrist in the warrior greeting. "Well done."
Istuion let out a long sigh of relief as Glorfindel stood and took his usual spot, the twins quickly climbing up on either side of him.
"Where did we leave off?" he asked.
"Maedhros was getting ready to attack!" Elladan's eyes grew big as he recalled the spot in the story.
"Grandmother Elwing was watching the sea," Elrohir remembered.
"So they were," Glorfindel replied, "and a messenger had been sent to Cirdan the Shipwright, requesting that he come back to Sirion immediately…
~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~
"How quickly can we gather our forces?" Maedhros asked quietly, breaking the early morning silence he shared with Maglor and breakfast. He turned from the window out of which he had been staring, and directed the intense gaze upon his brother.
Maglor paused to wipe his lips before meeting his brother's eyes. "There is rumor that Amrod and Amras hunt in the plains to the south. It would take us no longer than a fortnight." Maglor watched as Maedhros turned again to the window. He ever watched south, his mind consumed with the Silmaril held in Sirion.
"Make ready, Maglor. Send word to our brothers that we seek again to fulfill our oath."
"You do not mean to wait for an answer from Elwing? The messenger shall not return in this season."
"I believe our hope lies in surprise," Maedhros answered. "They will expect another missive; and in the delay it would take to carry such a missive they will believe they have purchased time. We shall not gift them with such reprieve. We will fall upon them unawares and take back that which is rightfully ours."
Maglor was silent as he pondered his brother's words. Perhaps there was merit in this tactic. Unprepared, Elwing might surrender the jewel and save her people from certain ruin. The element of surprise might be in their favor. He met his brother's eyes. "We shall make ready." But his eyes spoke only of sorrow.
* * *
Elwing could hear the young voices of her sons as she approached their nursery. Liriel sat with them, as she did each day while Elwing took counsel with Eregdos. No tidings had reached them this day. The messenger had been sent to Maedhros, to his fortress, which lay over a hundred leagues to the north. Elwing was comforted by this distance, comforted that Cirdan and Gil-Galad would come before Maedhros could rise against them. Perhaps even Eärendil would return from his voyage.
"Mine!" Elros's squeal could be heard in the hallway.
Elwing watched from the corridor as the small tower of blocks fell to the ground and Elros jumped up and down, cheering. "Fall down! Blocks fall down!" He plopped back down on the floor immediately and began gathering the blocks around his brother. Elrond waited patiently until Elros had moved the blocks back within his reach, and then he began to stack the blocks into a tower.
Elros jumped to his feet and began to run around the room, circling it twice all the while chattering with himself, his brother, and Liriel - although neither of the latter could have slipped in a word of their own. Elros answered his own questions with amazing speed.
"Go!" Elrond called as he scooted back on the floor and away from his tower.
Elros charged the tower, kicking out the lower blocks and then falling to his knees in the midst of the rubble. Laughing, he rolled to his back, his head landing neatly in his brother's lap. Elrond patted his head. Elros was ready to have Elrond build another tower for him to destroy, but Elrond had tired of that game. He slipped from under his brother and got to his feet, then wandered to his bookshelf. He slid down against the low shelf, pulling out a picture book and quickly withdrawing into sketches of ships and elves in far away places.
"Nana!" Elros spied his mother in the doorway. "Come play!" He ran to her and buried his head in her skirts, hugging her leg as she walked into the playroom.
Elrond looked up from his book, and his face lit up with a smile. He jumped to his feet and raced across the short distance, flinging himself into Elwing's arms and burying his head in her shoulder. She settled herself to the floor, Elrond in her lap and Elros already pushing blocks to her.
"Have they slept this afternoon?" Elwing turned to Liriel who sat with her ever-present tapestry in her hands, deft fingers weaving colorful strands of thread into scenes depicting the fall of Doriath, their escape, and their settlement at the Havens of Sirion. She had worked on it for as long as Elwing could recollect, from her earliest memories as a child after Doriath fell. Liriel was working this day on the ships of Cirdan, the larger crafts in the bay off the Isle of Balar, and smaller boats hidden in the reeds along the coastline.
"No, Elros did not wish to rest until he had seen his Nana," Liriel smiled indulgently at the small bundle of energy tugging at his mother's skirt.
Elwing drew Elros up into her lap next to Elrond. "Would you like me to read you a story before you rest?" Elrond nodded sleepily, while Elros pulled away from his mother and ran to the bookshelf. He picked up the book Elrond had been looking at and carried it back to his mother and brother.
"Elrond's book," he proclaimed, placing it in Elwing's hands as he settled back into her lap.
Elwing smiled and kissed the top of that small head. She rose gracefully, a child in each arm, and settled herself on the comfortable couch near the window. She opened the book, and began to weave for them the tale that accompanied the pictures, of how Cirdan sailed the seas, traveling the Havens and fighting Morgoth at each stop. She had read for only a few moments when she felt Elrond curl into her slightly as he drifted into sleep. Elros began to slip off her lap only a few minutes later, his thumb in his mouth.
"Did I suck my thumb?" Elwing asked Liriel.
Liriel laughed softly. "No, but Elurín did. Eluréd did as an infant, but Elurín continued, especially at night, until he was much older.
"I do not suppose it causes any harm." Elwing tugged gently on the small hand, pulling the thumb from Elros' mouth, but as soon as she let go, it settled back to its favored location.
"No, he only falls asleep that way. That short time is not harming him and seems to comfort him. If he continues there are some remedies that will help cure the habit," Liriel reassured her.
Elwing lifted them both gently and laid them in their cradle. Elros immediately stretched out full length, then curled up and rolled over, moving until he was comfortable. Elrond lay peacefully until Elros ceased squirming; then one small hand searched the sheet next to him. Finally finding his twin, Elrond wormed his way closer and cuddled up within reach, small bodies just touching.
"It is a joy to watch them sleep," Elwing murmured, her arms resting on the side of the cradle.
Her joy was abruptly ended as Eregdos entered the room. "Elwing, you must come!" The urgency in his voice was unmistakable, despite the low tone he used to avoid waking the children. "Liriel, stay here. I will send word to you in a few moments."
Elwing was already on her feet, wrapping her shawl about her shoulders, and hastening after Eregdos. "What is it?" she asked as soon as they were clear of the room.
"Maedhros," Eregdos answered shortly, his hand on her elbow as he guided her down the stone passageway.
"He cannot have received our letter and responded so quickly!"
"No, he could not have," Eregdos agreed. "He either did not send his last letter from Himring or he did not wait for our reply before coming here."
"He is here?" Elwing cried.
"Yes," Eregdos answered abruptly. "The eastern patrol sent out scouts this morning, as they normally do. Maedhros approaches with his banner displayed for all to see. The scout reported to the eastern captain, who sent messengers here as swiftly as they might arrive."
"How long until Cirdan arrives?"
"I do not know," Eregdos stopped in the hall and met her gaze solidly. "Our messenger has not yet returned. We do not know if Cirdan has received our request for assistance. We cannot count on aid from the sea."
Elwing felt despair sweep over her. "Can we defend against them? What says Celeborn?"
"Celeborn is arranging our defenses. We are awaiting an estimate of the approaching force before we will know if we can defend against them."
Elwing grasped the Silmaril, which she had begun wearing close that she might flee with it, if necessary.
"We cannot let them have it," she said quietly. "Eärendil was emphatic, Eregdos."
"I know, Elwing," Eregdos answered, his head bowed. "Tuor and Eärendil believe that the Silmaril is important; they have held it in the hopes of learning how so, and why, should they reach the home of the Valar."
"Perhaps we can hold them off until reinforcements arrive," Elwing allowed Eregdos to continue to lead her to the Great Hall. Her heart told her otherwise.
* * *
Mere minutes had passed when a horn sounded from the western border of the city. Eregdos, Elwing and the others flew to the western window of the hall. The sound of hooves beating upon the rock was heard next, and then another messenger appeared in the hall, out of breath and fear in his eyes.
"We are under attack from the north-west!" The soldier quickly related details of the advancing force.
As the advisors and captains gathered to hear his words, Eregdos drew Elwing aside. "Do you have the Silmaril?" When she nodded, he continued. "You must prepare to flee. We are surrounded on land, so you must go by sea. Take Liriel and your sons and prepare for a sea journey."
Elwing nodded and hurried back to her chambers. Liriel was waiting in the door.
"Liriel, pack some clothing and small toys for the children. Prepare yourself as well. We must flee by sea," Elwing told her hastily. "We are under attack."
The noise of battle quickly drew near as Maedhros' forces quickly overran the defenses at the city wall, and pushed forward through the streets to the Great Hall. Maedhros' strategy was focused on the Silmaril, and he knew it resided in Elwing's possession. He led his men through the Havens, cutting down those who dared resist him. The streets ran red with the blood of elves, and the cries of the injured and dying sounded in all their ears. A tumult arose behind him, and Maedhros turned to see his own warriors fighting amongst themselves. He rode between them.
"These are of the Noldor!" cried one warrior.
"It matters not!" answered another. "They stand in our way. They shall be cut down as any of the rest!"
"Your own cousin is here! Lady Galadriel has also been seen!"
A host of the elves stopped at this, and Maedhros found himself facing treason. "We will not kill our own kin," the foremost to Maedhros cried.
Maedhros raised his sword. "Then you shall die with them!" He brought the sword down upon the man's shoulder where his armor was weakest and watched dispassionately as the head nearly split from the body.
Spurred on by his action, those loyal to Maedhros now swarmed forward to cut down those of their own forces who opposed them. In that moment, brother killed brother and father killed son; a travesty from which few would recover.
His sword raised high in the air, Maglor rode in from the flanking forces. "Amrod and Amras have breached the western wall! The city is falling!" The oldest sons of Fëanor raced forward together toward where the object of their desire lay.
Inside the Great Hall, Eregdos led Elwing and Liriel, each holding one of the children, out a side door, and they ran for the shore.
"Our people are being slaughtered." Elwing stated it more as a fact than a question.
All three were suddenly drawn to look back by the sound of thundering hoof beats across the stone walkway above them at the entrance to the Hall.
"Maedhros!" Elwing recognized the elf with only one hand.
Maedhros and Maglor saw the figures fleeing across the rocks below them. "Elwing!" Maedhros cried. "Surrender!"
Elwing thrust Elros into Liriel's right arm as Liriel shifted Elrond completely into her left. "Go on to the beach! I will lead them away from you!"
Maedhros and Maglor ran down the stairs in pursuit.
Eregdos stopped and drew his sword, and turned to face them. Another had joined them, an elf with red hair. Amras. The elf's eyes were ablaze with anger, and he surged ahead of his older brothers. Eregdos deftly sidestepped the elf, and swinging his sword in a full arc, he slew the youngest son of Fëanor. In the next moment, he joined him in death as Maglor's blade cut him through. He had had no opportunity to put on his mail or armor; his only concern had been to see Elwing, the children, and the Silmaril safely away. He felt little pain as his life's blood spilled upon the rocks. His dying glimpse was of Elwing running to the high cliff and away from the path to the shore.
Elwing turned and saw Eregdos fall. She screamed her grief to the wind to see this one who had been her advisor - a friend who had been by her side since Doriath fell - cut down by the sword. Maglor and Maedhros continued to race towards her. She climbed until she could climb no further. There was nothing but the sea, nowhere to go but the sea. They would kill her if they reached her. She looked back once more, but could no longer see Liriel or her sons.
"Then the sea shall have us!" she cried to the wind. She dropped the pack she had been carrying and ran for the edge of the high cliff, flinging herself into the foam below.
"No!" Maedhros screamed as he saw Elwing fall. He continued his ascent to the edge of the cliff in time to see a great force rise from the sea. A swirling mist of water and foam appeared to catch and lift Elwing's body. Suddenly a white bird appeared, gliding gently out of the spray, the Silmaril bound to its breast. Maedhros heard the twang of a bow behind him, and saw the arrow fly, but it was knocked askew by a tendril of water that rose from the depths of the tumultuous sea below them.
Maglor and Maedhros stood at the edge of the cliff and watched as the white bird soared into the distance, taking with it the only Silmaril that had ever been within their reach in Middle-Earth.
"It is the work of Ulmo," Maglor said softly, awe in his voice.
"Amras is dead." Maedhros had turned back to the Havens, and saw the fallen bodies of his youngest brother and the elf who had opposed him.
"As is Amrod," Maglor replied. "We are all that remain of the Sons of Fëanor. For the Simarilli our father died and now five of our brothers. Yet not one have we recovered." Maglor had dropped to his knees on the stones as the waves broke on the rocks behind him, and he keened his loss, the song mixed with strands of the Noldolantë.
"I hear children," Maedhros interrupted his brother's grieving. "Elwing's children must yet live. Come!"
Maedhros began to run toward the path that led to the shore. Maglor felt fear and pity stir in his heart. He rose to his feet and sprinted to catch up to his brother. They came upon the she-elf and children not far down the path. In the reeds lay Liriel, blood seeping from an arrow wound to her shoulder. Next to her were the sons of Elwing. One of the two was attempting to stop the bleeding with his small fingers, and her blood covered his hands and face and clothing. The other stood next to her. Both were sobbing.
"Do not harm them!" Maglor called in anguish as Maedhros reached for the standing child. He reached the other child a moment later.
Maedhros had picked up Elros and was holding the child in his large hand. Elros sobbed and swung at him, and he drew the child to his chest, restraining the kicking feet and swinging arms.
Maglor gently pulled Elrond away from the injured elf and saw her eyes flutter open. "Please do not hurt them," she whispered.
"I will not, my Lady," Maglor replied gently. "What are their names?"
"You have Elrond," Liriel managed. "The other is Elros. Please, take them to the shore. Their kin will care for them."
"They come with us," Maedhros commanded. He kicked the pack that had fallen next to Liriel. "Bring this."
Maglor swung the pack over his shoulder and picked up the child called Elrond. The child did not fight him, but as they walked away he turned to look back over Maglor's shoulder to the nanny he had loved, his small hands reaching out to her. Liriel watched with tears streaming down her face as Elwing's sons were carried away.
~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~
"Ada?" Elrond was brought back to the present by Elrohir tugging at his sleeve. He looked down at his son and saw tears streaming down the elfling's face. He lifted the child into his lap, and then picked up Elladan who had joined them. They both hugged him tight about the neck.
"Ada, were you scared?" Elrohir spoke the muffled words into Elrond's ear.
Elrond's eyes were dark with memory. "I do not remember much of that day, for I was very small - much younger than even you," he answered. "I remember my nana reading to me. I remember Maglor carrying me away, and Lady Liriel crying."
"Did Lady Liriel die, Ada?" Elladan asked.
Glorfindel had moved to sit next to Elrond and the twins. "No," he answered for Elrond. "Lady Liriel was found and treated for her wounds, and when Cirdan did arrive they moved her to Balar."
"Did you ever see your nana again, Ada? After she became a bird?" Elladan asked.
"No, Elladan," Elrond answered, his eyes closing. He stroked the child's back gently. "The fate of my nana and ada was decided by the Valar. Part of that fate was that they could not return to Middle-Earth."
"So you had to stay with Maedhros and Maglor?" Elrohir was indignant. "They were bad!"
"What they did was wrong," Elrond finally responded. "But not everything they did was bad." He drew back from the twins so he could see both their faces. "Maglor grew to love us - my brother and me. I will tell you more about them tomorrow."
Elrohir and Elladan were content with that response, and they cuddled up with heads under their Ada's chin once again. There was silence in the room for a few moments.
"Glorfindel?"
"Yes, Elladan?" Glorfindel smiled at the elfling.
"Some of Maedhros' warriors did not follow orders."
"No, they did not," Glorfindel replied. He pondered his words carefully. "While you are young, you may trust that any order given to you by your ada, or myself, or Erestor or any of the others here in Imladris is a good order and you should obey it. When you get older, we will teach you about giving orders - and how it is the responsibility of the one giving the order to know if the order is good or bad. Maedhros gave a bad order - an order to kill elves. Some of his warriors did disobey him. They did the right thing."
"They still died," replied Elladan softly.
"Yes, they did," Glorfindel answered.
* * *
Elrond awoke that night to the soft patter of small feet on the hard wood floors of his chamber. He could feel Celebrían stir at his side as she also sensed the presence of others in the room. He held out his arms to his sons, and they ran the last few feet into their Ada's embrace.
"Are you scared? Did you have a bad dream?" Elrond whispered to them.
"No, Ada," Elladan answered.
"Are you unable to sleep?" Elrond asked next.
The twins were silent, and Elrond moved back a bit from the edge of the bed and lifted them to lie next to him. They cuddled up close, Elrohir in the crook of his arm and Elladan across his chest. He thought they had fallen asleep when a small voice finally spoke.
"Ada, will you or Nana ever leave us?"
Elrond heard Celebrían's breath catch, and he knew she was awake and listening.
"It would be wrong of me to say that we will never, ever leave, because none of us know what the future holds. But your Nana and I do not intend to ever leave you."
There was more silence as elflings digested this information. The next question left Elrond struck through as with a sharp knife, the pain slicing to his very core.
"Ada, if you had to choose between giving up a great jewel or staying with us, which would you choose?"
* * * * *
Chapter 6: Ada Holds Forth
Elrond felt Elladan pull away from him slightly and realized he was holding the child too tightly. He loosened his grasp on both of his sons and felt them relax once more against him. He felt Celebrían's hand slip around his elbow, and her cheek press against his shoulder. Her warm breath against his skin soothed him, and in his mind she spoke, encouraging him to help the children understand about their grandmother's choice.
A stream of thoughts ran through Elrond's mind: his own childhood questions of why his mother had not saved her people by giving up the Silmaril, the feelings of abandonment he and his brother experienced, and the sudden growing weight of Vilya upon his mind. Vilya was untainted and powerful. In Sauron's hands it could enslave his people. Hidden it was safe. Wielded without interference from the One Ring, it could protect and aid those who lived within this refuge. Would it ever come between him and his children? Would he ever be in a situation of having to choose to protect it over his family?
Might he ever find himself in the same situation as his mother? In his mind he thought not; in his heart he hoped not. The Silmaril and Vilya were similar in some ways, but different in others. Yet the promise he had made to be the keeper of Vilya weighed heavily upon him. The One Ring had fallen out of existence, hopefully forever. Should the One Ring ever be found, what price would the bearing of Vilya cost him?
The tickling sensation of small fingers tracing the design of the embroidery upon his night tunic drew him back to the present. Elladan lay snuggled yet upon his chest, his fingers idly skimming the raised threads beneath him, and Elrohir rested in the crook of his arm, both waiting silently and patiently for their father to answer the question.
"Before I answer that question, I need to take you forward in time from where Glorfindel left off in his story," he finally began, shifting Elladan slightly for comfort, "for the significance of what my mother had done was not known for many years into the future. As a child, I too had a great many questions about what my mother had done and why. Although I was very young when she left, I did know for certain that my mother loved my brother and me and did not wish to be parted from us. I will tell you, ion-nín, ere we continue, your Nana and I love you, and we will do our best to never be parted from you either. <my sons>
"But the choice my mother made to save the Silmaril was larger than us. The Silmarilli were more than just pretty jewels. Fëanor only made the shells of the Silmarilli. It was what he captured inside those shells that made them precious. For remember, the light of the Silmarilli was from the light of the Two Trees of Valinor. Yavanna had sang them into existence and of all she made, these were the greatest. Our sun and moon are from the last fruit and flower of those trees; from this we must try to imagine how wonderful and glorious the light of the trees must have been when full of blooms and fruit."
"Did you ever see the Two Trees, Ada?" asked Elrohir with a yawn.
"No, neither your Nana or I have been to Aman. Glorfindel has, and your Grandmother Galadriel. You should ask them to describe the light of the trees," Elrond answered. He noticed sleepy eyes in the dim light of the moon and had caught the yawn as well. "Shall we continue tomorrow?"
"No, Ada," answered Elladan. "I will have better dreams if you finish this part."
Elrond laughed and felt the silent shake of Celebrían beside him. "The Silmarilli were beautiful, and Fëanor did make them, but he did not make their inner fire. He trapped the light of the two trees inside the jewels he had made. And the Silmarilli were beautiful, and all who saw them were filled with wonder and delight. Varda hallowed the jewels so that nothing unclean or of evil will could touch them. If they did, they became scorched and withered. Mandos also made a prediction then about the Silmarilli - he foretold that the fates of Arda - the earth, air and sea - were locked within them. This is important to remember when you hear the tales of the First Age, so you might understand the value of the Silmarilli.
"The Two Trees were beautiful and hallowed by the Valar and Elves. When Morgoth and Ungoliant destroyed the two trees, a great darkness fell upon Aman. It is said that the darkness was more than lack of light, that the darkness was an entity all its own. The darkness caused fear and terror, entering the heart and mind, and strangling the will. Now the only place that the glorious light of the Two Trees could be seen was in the Silmarilli.
"The Valar and the Elves gathered, and Yavanna spoke, saying that with the light of the Silmarilli she could recall life to the trees. Bringing the Two Trees back to life would heal the hurts and banish the darkness, and even confound the malice of Morgoth. But Fëanor would not give over the Silmarilli."
"Ada, Fëanor made the Silmarilli, but not the light. The light was not his; it belonged to the Valar. Why did they not take it back?" Elrohir asked, confused.
"The Valar would not make Fëanor do anything. It had to be of his free will. Remember that as well, for a similar circumstance will occur at the end of the First Age," Elrond replied.
"Then Morgoth stole the Silmarilli," Elladan remembered.
"Yes, and he brought them to Middle-Earth. Beren and Lúthien recovered one, and that is the one that my mother had in her possession in Sirion. Morgoth held the other two. Do you know who Ulmo is?" Elrond asked them.
"He is the Vala of the sea," Elladan replied. "He is the one who caught your mother and made her into a bird. Glorfindel told us this in the story today, do you not remember, Ada?"
Celebrían's shaking with mirth did not help Elrond continue his story. "Yes, I remember. I wanted to make sure you did, too. Why do you suppose Ulmo did that?"
"Ada, I do not know. Glorfindel did not tell us that part," Elrohir answered, partially rising to see his ada's face.
"I am sure he was coming to that part," Elrond reassured him. "Ulmo traveled the great waters of Arda, coming up the rivers and into the lakes then going back to the sea. He knew all that was happening in Middle-Earth; he knew how evil and terrible life had become. He knew that Nargothrond, the caves where Finrod's people lived, had fallen; he knew Gondolin was sacked, and Doriath too. He knew that Cirdan had been assailed in the Falas. He knew that many elves and men had died at the hands of Morgoth and the kinslayers. Morgoth was growing stronger, and Ulmo knew the time would come when he would strike again, killing or enslaving all the men, elves and dwarves of Middle-Earth. Ulmo went on behalf of those of Middle-Earth and pleaded with the Valar to have pity and come to our aid."
"Did they come?" Elladan interrupted.
"No, Elladan, Manwë refused. He told Ulmo that one must come in person who could speak on behalf of men and elves. That person could plead for pardon, and for pity, and that only this might move the Valar to act," Elrond explained.
"But, Ada, who could speak for men and elves?" Elrohir asked.
"There were only two yet alive who could do such a thing," Elrond answered softly. "My father, Eärendil, or my mother, Elwing."
"Ada, why them?" Elladan asked.
"Because their fathers were of Men and their mothers of Elves," Elrohir said, sitting up and turning to face his father. "They were of mixed kind. They were of elves and men."
"Yes, Elrohir, you are right. And Elros and I are of mixed kind, and so are you and Elladan. This is why we are called Peredhel, or half-elven," Elrond explained, pleased Elrohir had deduced this himself. "Ulmo awoke the sea-longing in my father's heart, and with Cirdan's help Eärendil built a ship and went to sea, ever seeking a way to the undying lands, that he might come before the Valar and plead for pardon on behalf of men and elves."
"So that is why your ada was gone and your nana was sad," Elladan sighed.
"My mother missed my father very much. She had two children to care for, and their people to see to, and the Silmaril was in her care."
"Ada, the Silmaril was of great value, and Mandos said the fate of Arda was bound within it. Is that why Elwing did not give it up?" Elladan asked.
"My mother and father knew that the Silmaril was of great value, and they knew the words that Mandos had foretold about them. They did not know what would happen if the Silmaril were to be returned to the sons of Fëanor," Elrond answered, shifting slightly as Elrohir cuddled back into the crook of his arm. "The elves of Sirion believed that the Silmaril was protecting them and had caused them to prosper. Not all believed that, for if that were true, why did Doriath fall when it had the Silmaril? But they had some feeling or thought that they should not give it up, and when Maedhros asked for it, they did not surrender it. Maedhros and his forces attacked at a time when my father was at sea, and Cirdan and Gil-Galad as well. If they had been there, perhaps they might have repelled the attackers."
"Did Eärendil ever find his way to the undying lands?" Elladan asked, his voice betraying how tired he had become.
"Not on any of his early voyages. But this is the important part of the story; this is what we found out much later," Elrond replied, stroking the dark head that was nearly drifting into sleep. "Ulmo made Elwing into a bird and she flew across the waves with the Silmaril bound to her breast. She landed on a ship. Can you guess which ship she landed on?"
"Eärendil's?" Elrohir yawned again.
"Yes, she woke the next morning as herself again, in the arms of her husband. And then they had to make a terrible decision - to continue trying to find the undying lands and plead for help - or return to the ruins of the Havens of Sirion, and try to help their people and perhaps find their sons."
"They returned for you, right, Ada? Elladan mumbled.
"No, Elladan," Elrond whispered. "They continued their voyage, seeking the way to the undying lands."
The room was silent, even Celebrían's soft breaths were caught and held. Elrond finally sighed. "This was very hard for Elros and me to understand as we grew older. It wasn't until after the last battle of the First Age that we could begin to understand that if a way had not been found to the undying lands, and the Valar beseeched, and help obtained, all the people of Middle-Earth would have been killed or enslaved. Our parents made the right choice to continue, even though that choice hurt us, and we missed them very much."
"Did they find a way?" Elrohir asked, a sob in his voice.
"Yes, Elrohir, they did. After all of the previous attempts had ended in failure, this one succeeded, for the light of the Silmaril guided them to Aman. Eärendil stood before Manwë and pleaded the case of men and elves, and the Valar came and captured Morgoth and killed his evil creations," Elrond squeezed Elrohir gently as he spoke.
"Is this why your father is now the evening star?" Elladan asked, recalling what Glorfindel had drawn in their family tree.
"Partly," Elrond answered. "No mortal was allowed in Aman, and yet my father risked whatever doom might be placed on him for going there, to save the people of Middle-Earth. Neither he nor Elwing were allowed to return to Middle-Earth. Eärendil the Mariner sails his ship into the sky each night, with the Silmaril bound to his brow. We see the light of the Silmaril as a star in the evening and morning. A white tower was built for Elwing, and there she waits each morning for him to return to her."
"Can we see the star, Ada?" Elrohir asked.
Elrond rose, and with a child on each hip, he walked to the balcony of the room. Celebrían followed, wrapping a blanket around each child, and they stood together on the balcony.
"There, that bright star, do you see it?" Elrond pointed to a bright white light in the sky. "That is Eärendil the Mariner, your grandfather."
As they watched the star twinkled.
"Ada, he knows we are here!" Elladan whispered excitedly. He raised his arm and waved at the star, Elrohir joining him.
"Now I think it is time that all young elves were in bed sleeping." Elrond turned and carried them back inside. He had walked to the door, to take them to their room, when Elrohir spoke. "Ada, I know we are too big for this, but can we sleep with you and Nana tonight? Just this one time?"
Elrond looked to Celebrían, who smiled her answer. She returned to bed and patted the spot next to her. Elrond set their sons in between them, and watched as they snuggled under the covers, Elrohir curling between his mother and brother. He lay down himself and felt Elladan snuggle into his side. Soon the deep, slow breaths of sleep were all that was heard in the room. Cuddled with his family on the bed, Elrond looked out the window and caught a glimpse of the star of Eärendil.
~Father, I hope never to have to make a choice such as you and mother did.~
The star twinkled twice before disappearing beyond the night sky.
* * *
"Glorfindel." Erestor sat down next to the seneschal at the breakfast table.
"Good morning, Erestor," Glorfindel smiled as the advisor scowled at him. "You are having a bad morning?"
"Interesting you should ask that, Glorfindel. I decided to take a walk this fine spring morning, and there was just enough chill in the air that I decided to wear my cloak. Can you guess what was on my cloak?" Erestor glared at the brightly smiling elf.
"I can only imagine," Glorfindel replied amiably. "Did you spill on it?"
"Mud, Glorfindel, mud. Mud of the variety a certain elfling was covered in several days ago," Erestor growled.
"Why, Erestor, did you fall into the mud too?" Glorfindel appeared surprised.
Erestor sighed and covered his face with his hands. He turned and faced the nonchalant elf. "I shall be redressed this folly, mellon-nín." <my friend>
Glorfindel smiled gleefully. "I shall await any such attempt with pleasure."
Elrond entered the dining hall then, stopping first for a few words with Istuion before joining his scowling advisor and grinning seneschal.
"Where are the twins this morning?" Erestor asked, surprised to not see them already.
"They had a late night last night and will be sleeping in this morning. Celebrían too - she will join you later this morning," Elrond answered pleasantly.
Glorfindel frowned. "Is all well, Elrond?"
Elrond clapped the elf-lord on the back. "Yes, all is well, mellon-nín," he laughed. "Although I am in need of a partner to spar with. Are you available?"
"I am finished here; I will go prepare our equipment," Glorfindel replied as he rose immediately to his feet, eyes sparkling. It had been long since Elrond had wished to take up his sword, even in practice.
"Allow me a light repast, and I shall join you in a few minutes," Elrond answered, laughing at his friend's eagerness. Perhaps it had been a long time.
* * *
Celebrían sat on the balcony, a cup of tea in hand, watching as her husband and Glorfindel, dressed as if for battle, met on the training field. They faced each other, one as dark as night and the other as golden as day, and began a dance that they had perfected over the centuries. The clang of the swords could be heard faintly even at the house, and the dance and grace of their movements were a sight to behold. They sparred and parried, thrust and blocked, feet dancing lightly in the morning dew.
A stirring behind her broke Celebrían's concentration on the swordplay, and she turned to see Elladan rise in the bed, confused initially as to where he was.
"Good morning, Elladan," she called softly.
He turned to her and shook the cobwebs from his head as he remembered why he was in his parent's bed. His face lit up with joy when he took in the sight on the training field far beyond them.
"Nana, is that Ada with Glorfindel?" he asked excitedly.
"Yes, they are exciting to watch, are they not?" Celebrían answered, drawing her son to her for a hug.
"Elrohir!" Elladan broke free and ran to the bed, shaking his brother. "You have to come see Ada and Glorfindel fight!"
Elladan dragged Elrohir from bed to the balcony, and both watched in fascination as their father and teacher sparred on the field.
"Nana, may we go down to the field to watch them?" Elladan pleaded, tugging on his mother's sleeve.
"Dress and wash your faces first, and I will join you there in a few minutes with breakfast," Celebrían answered, willing to indulge them this morning. "And I will brush your hair." She tugged on tousled braids, but the braids were quickly wrenched from her hand as the pair flew from the room.
After a stop in the kitchens to fill a picnic basket, Celebrían took a blanket, the basket and a brush and joined her sons on the practice field. They managed to eat while she took care of their hair, never taking their eyes from the big elves on the training field.
A final clang of blades as their swords met in the air above their heads, and Elrond and Glorfindel mutually lowered the blades and bowed.
"I think I should do this more often," Elrond laughed, slightly winded by the hour's match.
"Aye, you should," Glorfindel agreed with a warm smile. "But you have lost none of your skill." He paused for a moment. "You seem at peace today."
Elrond looked at Glorfindel questioningly. "How so?"
"I know not why, only that your spirit seems at peace this morning."
Elrond glanced at the sky, and then at his wife and children sitting a short way up the hill. Elladan and Elrohir began to run forward as soon as their father's eyes met theirs.
"I think I understand my parents at long last."
"Ada, we watched your match with Glorfindel!" the voice of the twins interrupted before Glorfindel could respond. "Will you practice with us?"
"I will join you this afternoon in your training time with Glorfindel," Elrond answered, affectionately tousling the hair their mother had just smoothed. "But now you must meet Istuion for lessons. I understand he has new experiments for today."
With a whoop, the twins ran for the house.
"You, meleth-nín, need a bath," Celebrían wrinkled her nose as she drew her husband's head down to kiss him. "I will pick up the remains of breakfast and then come scrub your back," she whispered in his ear. <my love>
The amused yet passionate glint that appeared in Elrond's eyes bespoke of other morning activities to be had, and he quickly left her.
Celebrían turned to a very amused Glorfindel. "Well?" she inquired.
"What his mind has understood for an age has reached his heart," Glorfindel replied softly, "but there is still more he must accept to be at peace."
"What he would not do for himself, or even for me, he will do for the children," Celebrían replied. "Thank you again, mellon-nín, for being willing to push him."
"He begins to let go of the hurt instead of denying that it exists, and this path he is willing to travel that he might provide the kind of home to his sons that he did not have." Glorfindel paused. "I think we will pass on today's story, for he is content, and I do not wish to spoil his peace by having him revive memories of his time with Maglor and Maedhros." He cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a knowing grin. "Perhaps this day of peace should be enjoyed loving his wife?"
Celebrían blushed and swatted Glorfindel on the arm, before stretching up on to her toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. With mirth in her eyes she quickly gathered up the blanket and basket and returned to the house.
Glorfindel picked up the swords and turned to the armory. He stopped for a moment, facing west. Closing his eyes, he bowed slightly. His mind turned to his King and to memories of Gondolin, then to Valinor and his meeting with Manwë and Mandos, with Eärendil present, where he had promised anew to protect the line of his King and to aid them in the fight against the coming darkness.
He then entered the armory and began preparations for the warrior class he would lead next.
* * * * *
Ada/Adar - - - - - -Dad/Father
Ion-nín - - - -- - -- -my son
Nana/Naneth - - -- Mom/Mother
Pen-neth- - young ones
Mellon-nín - - - - - my friend
meleth-nín - - -- - - my loveA/N: Again, why and when Glorfindel was returned to Middle-Earth is not known. I like the idea that it was to protect the line of his King.
For those familiar with the Tale of Years (HOME The War of the Jewels), I will be using the timelines laid out in it for the course of events at the end of the first age.
The Silmarillion does not say whether Celeborn was at the Havens of Sirion when they were attacked. There is a passage in the FotR indicating Galadriel may not have been, but that depends on how one interprets the mountains referred to in the passage. For this story, they are in Sirion.
Chapters 7 - 9 Chapters 1 - 3
