Flame Rekindled:Chapter Five.


At the request of Eru_Melin, here is another of my doll pictures! :) I have a camera that is hopeless at close ups, so I apologise for the quality. Maybe I will get a better camera for Christmas?

Today, I am posting chapter five of 'Flame Rekindled'. I have not done as much work on this story of late as I would have liked. I need to get another couple of chapters of 'Nerdanel's Story' on here next, then I will finish tweaking with chapter six of this story. Then I really must finish writing up Maglor's Song! So much to do - so little time - I need to read and study more too! Yay! *Looks bemused!*

So this is 'the' doll sitting on The Silmarillion and a pile of HoME books!!! ;)He is with a companion!


Flame Rekindled. Chapter Five


“Fëanor was the mightiest in skill of word and of hand, more learned than his brothers; his spirit burned as a flame. Fingolfin was the strongest, the most steadfast, and the most valiant.”


(‘Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië The Silmarillion J. R. R. Tolkien. Ed C. Tolkien. HarperCollins. p60)


“For Fëanor was made the mightiest in all parts of body and mind, in valour in endurance, in beauty, in understanding, in skill, in strength and subtlety alike, of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and a bright flame was in him.”

(Of the Sun and Moon. The Silmarillion J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed C. Tolkien. P 108)



Máhanaxar. Recalling thoughts from the Halls of Awaiting.



So it was that Nolofinwë had the victory! And did he not mean to parade it before me, to humiliate me before our father and our people?

Of my half-brother had I been contemplating, even as Mandos had instructed me, though of my own will rather than to comply with his. No purpose of gain would it serve me save this - I would learn to master the situation of my captivity. I would learn to ponder upon those memories that strengthened me or brought me of joy or of comfort. To my own thoughts only could I turn in order to make sense of the inevitability of my continued existence, but had I not ever been self-driven, so was this as another challenge unto me.

Instruct me as you see fit, Námo Mandos, and I will but turn it to my own ends. Nelyafinwë is free, it is true, but the oath-breaking son of Indis is king in his stead. My firstborn gave away the birthright of my House as a thanks offering, as payment for his rescue. What interest do you think I now have in aught that befalls the Hither Lands; save you tell me my sons have reclaimed that which is lost unto them? Save you tell me the Great Jewels are taken back from the Enemy? Only a matter of time will it be before one or more of the seven - one of the six had I thought in that instant, and with much pain at the knowledge of what I had done to Telufinwë - seek of opportunity to reclaim our stolen treasures. Though I understand that in no manner may the power of the Noldor overthrow Moringotho, yet may my sons do him great and dreadful harm that he knows of the depths of anguish and suffering; may they take back from him of the unsullied light he stole from me.

And I will bide of my time as I seek to grow in strength of thought, if time it is in which I exist. Yet are not these Halls of Awaiting within the Realm of Arda? Are not the Quendi of Arda? Thus it is that I realize myself to be within the time I have ever known, though my perceptions of the passing of such may be altered. So will I seek to gain what I can from memories while I am unlawfully held prisoner here: though mayhap not in the manner the Valar require of me.



Now had I been recalling a particular occasion in the year of 1233. My father had ordained three days of festivities in which there had been the usual feasting and entertainments of music, dance and tale; and competitions there had been amongst our athletes. I would have won in all events had I so desired to enter the contests, but it was not of my nature to make show of my prowess for other’s entertainment. Was I not the prince, the firstborn of the king? Let others entertain me, had I thought. No grievance did I have against such sport, and indeed, participated regularly in training and competition in the privacy of my house or at times in the arena with those lords who were amongst my closer companions. And had I, at that time, done something I did but rarely; I had changed my decided course at Ecthelion’s request, for the sake of my father’s honour, and participated in the javelin and the race in the arena. Was that not more than enough I deemed; for if I participated further would the sports become no true competition. Did not all know what the outcome would be? None there were as swift, as strong or as skilled as I, and let any who are foolish enough to question my assertion look to the records in Aman.

But that half-brother of mine, that usurper of my father’s time and affection, greatly did he love to hear the praise of the crowds ringing in his ears. At that celebration was he to do all in his power to win such acclaim. Not that he entered the events I had. Nor would he have. He wished to win!

Nolofinwë had participated in the long race: that which required of endurance rather than of speed, and the path of which led down to the coast nigh as far as Alqualondë before returning to the city. Many an athlete completed the course to fall at that last test, at the crystal stairs that led up the side of the hill of Túna to the great gates, or at the further two flights of stairs that led to the arena. He was not one of them; he finished first!

My half-brother participated on the second day in the archery contest, in which he came third, (never was archery his strongest point), in the early bouts of the quarterstaff, and in the tests of skill in riding, which again he won. Then on that third day had he ridden in the races that were five circuits of the arena. Had he not been first in that event, though Alcarin pushed him close, (and Kanafinwë the Swift closer still in years to follow!) So it was as I had expected it to be, and though far from happy was I not overly perturbed. I knew he was strong, I knew he was steadfast in all he undertook to achieve. Was his sire not also mine? But then had Nolofinwë ridden proudly back and forth before the crowds, waving gestures of acknowledgement of their support, and turned his beloved horse to face the dais whereupon our father, she who was his mother, and Anairë, who was then his betrothed, sat.

“My king and father; I do dedicate all honour of the events I have won to thee. For it is thy example in excellence that I have but followed.”

And my father had smiled upon him. King Finwë had praised of his second son before all!

Well said did he consider his words to be, to win more honour for the king than I. Had I not made every effort to contain my anger at that display. But it was a slight intended to show forth his challenge to me, had I thought. So be it! Still were there the finals of the quarterstaff to take place, and that event between my half-brother and the Lord Fionu. That lord, who sought ever to serve his prince, would willingly concede his place in the contest to me. I would show Nolofinwë the calibre of the one he thought to challenge, had I decided in that moment. I would bring him to lie in the dust at my feet, and most swiftly.

We were seated upon a second dais to the right of my father; my family and I. Behind Nolofinwë’s field of vision were we that he would not see me move to speak with Fionu nor enter the arena until challenge was given. None there were who could nay say me the right of contest, neither could Nolofinwë refuse challenge least he appeared craven in front of all. So I made to rise from my chair and in that same instant her hand was light upon my arm.

“Wilt thou not stay, Finwion?”

Her use of that most intimate of names always caught my attention, for so she had intended. Softly spoken were her words, her gentleness a covering for her own strength of will. Though her eyes were upon my half-brother’s performance, in fëa was her attention solely given over to me. So was her plea to me - her counsel - of touch and of word and of spirit. Not alone were we that she would use just of speech, for she was ever careful of what she said before our sons.

I had looked again to the wide arena, to my half-brother riding to and fro upon that white horse of his, (did he not insist upon a white horse of his own once he was old enough to realise Tyelperocco came to my summons alone?), and my anger at his presumptuous manner burnt strong. But I had noted her plea! Always did I listen to my wife, though not always take of her advice. She had continued to address me in fëa without waiting upon my reply, as the babe, Kanafinwë, though smiling happily at her became restless upon her lap.

‘What valour would there be in thy giving of challenge to Nolofinwë, in showing that thou canst overcome him as most assuredly thou would, my lord?’

The hand she had placed upon my arm as a gesture of comfort was reluctantly withdrawn to tend further to our son. She had made of soothing sounds to him that his face brightened further, that he repeated back the sounds to her with delight. But I felt the wave of her clarity of thought reaching out to me as a promised and much desired embrace of restraint.

“Wilt thou not stay with us, Finwion?” she asked again. “For thou to step into the arena, onto the field of contest would cause some, who are less wise, to think that thou didst view Nolofinwë truly as a challenge to thy own strength and skill, which is of course an absurdity. Give not fuel to those few who would so think, I beseech thee, beloved; for to let thy half-brother have his day shows only how noble of spirit thou art, how much esteemed by thy sire and in no wise jealous.”

I heard her request, the sense in her words! Her influence had given me cause to halt momentarily, for always in our youth did I desire her caress of enlightenment as much as her caress of hand. And in that moment had I also become aware of Nelyafinwë, seated to my right, and he shifting position as though to rise and stand at my side if to go forth was my intent. But it was Káno for whom he stood. For in that instant had Kanafinwë climbed down from his mother’s nurturing and with the laughing utterance of two of his few words, of “Aiya, Nelyo!” had he made swiftly round the back of the chairs for his brother’s company on most unsteady legs.

Only the day before had he first walked unaided. So did the parent in both of us watch of that instant his progress. Thus were we both to see our inherently graceful son stumbling over his own tiny feet in his great hurry, to be caught up, just in time, in the arms of his watchful elder brother.

An event of little significance it was, for though quick to master their hröa, none of our sons, nay not even I, had managed it in a day. But it was a strange memory that stayed with me in life, I realised. It was one that still resounded in the place of my doom: Kanafinwë's determination to run before he could walk; his elder brother’s care for him, and she looking to me with that small, secret smile that spoke more of her understanding of me than very many words.

‘Why it would be like envying Kanafinwë’s first steps, and he but a babe, when thou art indeed a mighty prince,’ she had added in thought, with a touch of humour.

I had felt my rage caught up in the shimmering net of love and of wisdom she had cast over me. Though she had nigh over made her point, how I had loved her for her stubborn perseverance; that she would so often say of the right words to give me room to ponder, to reflect upon my own words and deeds that they be not rash. And of course she had been right! Though Nolofinwë’s action had undoubtedly been intended as a show of his maturing strength, yet had I sought to demonstrate my superiority in that event would my father have been less than impressed with me. I would not react to my half-brother’s baiting in a matter so trivial, for so to do would belittle my dignity.

“It is even as you say, lady wife!” Giving a silent acknowledgement in fëa, I had lightly touched her cheek with my fingertips and taken again of my seat.


*****


Do you not observe, Námo Mandos? See how I do consider the one you continually instruct me to! Of Nolofinwë do I think, yet will I have a measure of control, of mastery of that which I will ponder, and not just for your entertainment.

Silence.

No answer was forthcoming from my jailer. Did he even pay heed to me any longer, I wondered? But no matter! With his presence or without it was I alone.


*****


So had I returned to my forging of memories. I would weave a rich tapestry, as had my mother while she lived, and that of all that held meaning for me. And if, mayhap, anything should occur which gave me any leverage against Mandos, would I not have used it? The Valar would never restore me until Eru commanded of them, for they hated and feared me. So, disadvantaged, would I be held in that place from which none, not even Moringotho, could escape. But I was not Moringotho. I would learn to do more than endure.

Again was I in thought of the third day of that celebration, though nigh the end and at the waning of Laurelin it was. I had not initially returned to the house with her and our sons, but spent some time in the company of Fionu (who was by then nursing bruises from the final event), and the Lord Tulcavaryar. Though I knew the wisdom of remaining silent regarding my half-brother, yet were my thoughts still restless that matters were not as I believed they should be. Late indeed did I return, and that after Kanafinwë was abed and much of the household partaking of rest from the excitement of the last days. Nelyafinwë I spoke with but briefly in the scriptorium. Books and scrolls had my eldest son spread over the desk in his pursuit of information on Tulkas. Much taken was Nelyafinwë with any trials of strength or strategy.

But a feeling of heaviness of fëa was come upon me at that time that I could not be free of, neither would I impose it upon my son nor any other. As oft in such moods had I sought solitude, though not in my workrooms or in crafting on that particular occasion. It was to the bathing pool in the south tower that I turned, without even calling for Maneharyamo to attend me, to bring of oils and linen towels and fresh clothing. I had entered the tall-pillared room, crossed the mosaic-tiled floor with its portrayal of the Maiar of Ulmo, discarded my robes and stepped into the warm water.

So good had it felt to take of rest. So good had it felt to have all weariness of hröa and of fëa dissolved by the heated and scented waters of the pool, and to drift for that time in thought. Yet was I not to be alone for long! But a few moments it was before I heard the sound of footsteps, of silken garments falling upon the tiles, of another slipping into the water at the further end of the pool and swimming to me. No need had I to open my eyes to know it was she, but I opened them nonetheless. She had made to swim alongside me, to kiss lightly of my cheek in greeting, but I drew her into a close embrace: my beloved, my wife, she who understood me better than any.

“I thought I might find thee here, Finwion,” she had said with a smile of pleasure that I was not in as bad a mood as she had anticipated. “So have I dismissed Maneharyamo for the time being. If it is agreeable to thee, will I give of my assistance in his stead?”

Looking up to the side of the bath, I saw she had brought with her all that was necessary; all I would normally have required to be refreshed. In truth, would I rather have the ministering of my lady’s hands to such a task than those of a servant! But still was my mind not at rest.

“Nolofinwë would claim the hearts of the Noldor for himself. He plays to the crowd for their praise, and for my father’s.”

“Shush, beloved!” She placed an elegant finger upon my lips, and made a mock frown. “Nolofinwë does but seek to copy of the example of his father and his half brother, that they are honoured by the people. See thou not how he does admire and emulate thee when he can? He would seek to follow thee in many things, not just in the sports, for he perceives in thee much of worth; much that Finwë honours. He does not intend to give thee of challenge.”

“Mayhap thou art right! But cunning is he that he seeks to replace me ever in ….”

“Shush, my dear lord! It is for thee to rest thy thoughts for awhile,” said she with some firmness. I did not finish my argument. She silenced me by the touch of her lips upon mine. Most persuasive could she be.




‘Again doest thou indulge of the comfort of that gentle lady whom thou didst drive from thee! Not a thought hast thou given of late to the grief thou didst cause her. Not a further thought hast thou given to the valiant deed of Findekáno by which thy eldest son was freed! No way forward is there for thee if thou wilt not pay heed to my guidance. I would have thee consider the results of thy rebellion, spirit of Fëanáro. Know thou that very many of the Noldor, that two of the sons of Arafinwë are slain.’ The sombre presence of Mandos drew me from that most promising of contemplations.

‘What of my sons?’ I replied of an instant, for did I not fear to hear the worst? That his statement would be followed by ‘And thy sons also are slain!’ But nay, thought I. My sons are strong; Nelyafinwë and Turkafinwë are strong and skilled captains.

“We will begin!”

Again came to me those hated words of the Doomsman; that he believed he had means to make bargain with me. But did it strike me then that Námo Mandos had a way of disrupting those moments when I recalled of my wife! Mayhap he was not the only one with a means of control over what was pondered and when? May it be that, should I wish of his presence I had but to think upon her, and he would attend me as if he were some servant? Most interesting to me was that thought, but it was swift and I meant to keep it close. So did I take up his demand to play again at the matching of wits.

‘Always are we beginning, but never do we progress, O Vala!’ I addressed Mandos, who gave forth of the impression that he loomed over me in some high vaulted cavern. ‘And I thought Nolofinwë was the one you wished me to think upon, not Arafinwë’s sons?’

“So he is!”

Many of the Noldor, including two of the sons of my younger half-brother had been slain. Mandos wished me to know of that! Had I not warned them all that long and hard would be the road? Had I not told them there would be need of their swords? Though no great love did I have for my half-brothers’ families, yet a flicker of sorrow crossed my thoughts that more descendents of Finwë were dead. And Aikanáro, he who had the light of flame in his eyes, had spent time in his youth with Turkafinwë and Curufinwë upon exploration. I had known him! Which two were dead I would not ask, that Mandos thought his words overly concerned me. Yet did I have memory of Aikanáro at my house in competition with Curvo; both laughing and calling the result of their unarmed contest in the training hall, ‘undecided’. I saw, as a passing flash of light, the silver-blue robed Angaráto dancing with his wife, Eldalotë, at Morifinwë's betrothal. And then I beheld Findaráto, again for an instant, at festival upon Taniquetil running eagerly to be at the side of the golden haired Vanya maid, Amárië. I saw him take up her hand most lovingly to his lips, and she smile radiantly in return.

She had not come with us, the one whom Findaráto loved. Another nís who remained in Aman, in loneliness and in sorrow was she. She, and Findekáno’s beloved, and Curufinwë’s wife, and Kanafinwë’s wife, and my wife! And Nolofinwë’s wife, Anairë, also, it must be said.

Why was it that our nissi would not come with us? Why would those of the House of Finwë not follow of their lords when so many others did without question? None of them were weak, none a feared. I had not understood it; save all had been cozened by the Valar.

Alone had I felt; beset by a ring of enemies. Though so many of my kin and my people were around me, though my newfound depth of hatred I had to nurture, yet had I felt so alone when she made her refusal to accompany us. Far worse than her refusal to come with me into exile from Tirion had that moment been! My father slain, my beloved Jewels stolen from my care, and instead of loyal support would she make my emptiness in that long night complete. Empty heart, empty arms, and empty bed!

So be it! And did she not learn to regret of her decision? But I had thought she would follow. That as she, in the fullness of time, had come to me at Formenos, so would she do again once in her right mind. Until that time we made away with the ships had I expected to behold her again, to have word brought that she had ridden in pursuit and begged to be with me. Ai! So had my mind at times pondered; but had my heart known I would see her not again after what transpired at Alqualondë ……I willed not to think on that; I willed not to think on her at that time with Mandos still so intent upon ‘beginning’.

Now I had been told that many of the Noldor had been slain, as well as Arafinwë’s sons. I pondered as to their whereabouts, for none did I discern to be with me in that place. Not since my death had I known the presence in reality of any save my keeper. As if the Halls of Awaiting had been created for I alone, did it seem. Or as if with Moringotho freed, I had been the one chosen to occupy his solitary prison.

‘Elda art thou; not Vala! Think not that thou couldst endure the torment Melkor endured before his release.’ Mandos made rebuke of me.

‘No? Is my fëa not from Eru, as is Moringotho’s, as is thine? Is it not recorded of Nienna, in the Namna Finwë Míriello, that while the Children are not mighty in life, yet are each of us in fëa as strong as you! Say you Doomsman that you could not endure what Moringotho did?’

No well-mannered way to gain information from Mandos was that, but I had thought to try of varied tactics. I would know of my sons, if they yet lived. I would know of any attempt made to avenge my father and I, and to reclaim of my Jewels. But not again would I beg or plead.

‘And Moringotho thou didst release, despite his deeds and false confessions of repentance. One law is there for the Eldar, and another for the Valar!’

Mandos was not one to react to my taunting, it seemed. Rightly was it said of him that he was immovable, or mayhap was I merely too trivial for him to belittle his dignity!

“Of Nolofinwë art thou to ponder.”

“Which particular aspect of Nolofinwë? You make order, but give me no direction. As if you believe me to know of all your thoughts and reasoning it is!” Most frustrating did I find the situation, yet I could think not how to manipulate Mandos to give forth of the information I desired.

I thought again of my half-brother as a child, and he in the hall of our father, looking to me at the dance.

“See thou not how he does admire and emulate thee when he can?” had that wife of mine said, when gathered in my arms. Neither lie nor deception would she have ever knowingly attempted to make. What was it she saw in Nolofinwë that was hidden from me? What was it she still saw in him those many years later that she spoke to me in his defence?

Again I saw him in memory, riding with all our family at the head of the host of the Noldor towards Valmar for the festival. He had endeavoured to speak with me on that occasion and I had endeavoured to pay heed of him. Not overly arrogant were his words I recalled, nor boastful was he of his achievements. He had sought to speak with me in earnest of family and of pursuit of knowledge, and had admitted that I was the more learned. Had it not occurred to me that I rather enjoyed the conversation; though I had told myself at the time it was done to please my father. A most gratifying festival had that been for me, and that Kanafinwë gave forth of his first rendering of song before the whole of the assembled Noldor and Vanyar. That she had thought twice about her loyalties, and had been at my side right willingly, preferring to be my wife than a servant of Aulë; that my father had been so very proud of all his family and their achievements before the High King. Ai! It should have endured! That closeness between us should have endured!

‘Thou hast asked of thy sons, so this will I tell thee.’ Thus came my reward for playing Mandos’ game, thought I; the knowledge I so desired. Yet my thoughts had lingered for an instant on the awareness that Nolofinwe was truly our father’s son in appearance, whereas I ever held something of the countenance of my mother.

Whether my jailer was aware of my thoughts I knew not at that time. He continued apace. ‘Thy sons are safe as yet, spirit of Fëanáro. Thy firstborn has excelled in courage and leadership. He has performed deeds of surpassing valour against the hoards of Melkor. As if a flame burns bright in him it is, that he is unquestionably his father’s son. Many do draw unto Nelyafinwë at his fortress upon Himring, and it be not taken. Indeed, does his brother, Kanafinwë, now there abide with his people. Thy other sons have fared less well; for Turkafinwë and Curufinwë have lost of their lands and been driven to seek refuge with the eldest son of Arafinwë, while the lands of Morifinwë have been ravaged and he has fled with the remnant of his people to join with his brother, Pityafinwë's scattered folk.’

So overwhelmingly forthcoming with information had Mandos been that I instantly suspected some sort of trap. What would he have me concede? Into what confession of guilt, what vain attempt at humbling was he leading me? But did I know that all my sons yet lived, were ominously safe ‘as yet’, and that Nelyafinwë was more than a force to be reckoned with. My firstborn; he from whom I had expected so much, was I not proud of him that he was acting as he should. Did I not also know then that it was Angaráto and Aikanáro who had been slain, and that Turkafinwë and Curufinwë took refuge with Findaráto. Would that prove yet an interesting situation, for no match in cunning or skill in battle did I consider the eldest son of Arafinwë for those two sons of mine.

“And will not grief come of Findaráto’s noble decision, “ said Mandos enigmatically. ‘Yet his stay in my Halls will be but brief, that he be purged of his guilt and healed of his sorrow.’

Unlike I! Was that the Doomsman’s point? I thought not. Though valid, was it something I could do naught about. Some other plan had he, some other issue of import for me to consider.

‘Think thou of Nolofinwë,’ said he, pointedly.

I considered not to give him of answer. I thought to ponder, to brood further on the news given me. Did I not know what I wished? But never would I fear confrontation. Whatever the Doomsman had planned for me would I meet with a will. So I thought again of that deed of the eldest son of Indis as reported to me by Alyatirno and Almon, two of my captains, that he had been overheard in council and the letter he intended to send to his brother intercepted and brought to me.

They had made plan, or rather Nolofinwë was informing Arafinwë of his plan, and that to see me driven from the city by order of my father. To fabricate proof of my disloyalty to Finwë was my half-brother’s intent. To show through lies and false witness that I rebelled not merely against the Valar’s dominion, but against my own sire’s rule and had planned to make of myself King of the Noldor, to lead forth all of the people from thraldom. In his letter was I to be accused of calling my father’s actions in bringing our people to Aman an act of the greatest folly, of one seeking an easy path of an unendingly dependent childhood, and no challenge. Was it in writing that three would bear witness against me, that I had accused Finwë of being no fit ruler, saying that he held title but no power in Tirion. Never would I have said such things about my father! (Though had there not been times when I thought my father denied true kingship by the Valar. Either he had command of what was done with his people, or he did not! How then was I commanded to appear before the Valar for a deed they said was ill-done in Tirion?)

Nolofinwë’s aim it had long been to drive my sons and I forth, but had he thought himself not able to sunder me from my father’s love. Had he even thought to unking the king if it be the only way he could achieve his goal! And did he not, as it transpired, achieve all that he wished for? But that last news brought to me, that letter, was something to which I must give reply of the sharpest kind. Nolofinwë had intended to make such a case against me to my father and his assembled lords before my arrival at the council, that there would be no choice but Finwë pronounce words of exile upon me and made the son of Indis his heir in my place.

‘Lies!’ said I. ‘they were lies, made to destroy the love my father had for me. But he could not do it! Ever did my father love me best! Do you not see, Doomsman? Lies spread by the people of Nolofinwë, couched in half-truths, as ever they must be for deception to achieve its goal. My half-brother was not content with wishing to drive me forth by will of the Valar; he would have our father do it! Was I to do naught for truth and justice?’

No answer came to me, and I realised I had made more of the emotions I felt at that time than I intended. Had I made more of them than when I was forced to stand before Mandos in the Ring of Doom! But he already knew of my pain. He already knew of my reasons for drawing sword, at Máhanaxar.

“Thou doest speak again of lies and of deception. And doest thou know not, even yet, who was the most deceived? In his hatred of thee was it ever Melkor’s intent to entice thee to the path of falsehood, and slowly corrupt of thy spirit. Dost thou still not understand, O Noldo who prided thyself upon thy great learning, that thy loyal lord Alyatirno was one foremost in heeding unto Melkor’s whispers? And that to give thee of false council and report was ever his aim, that he be given many lands himself to rule over once come into the Hither Lands.”

I had known it; though not at the time I had made threat of Nolofinwë. Though I would say not so to my jailer, had I paid close attention at that mockery of a trial given unto me. Soon enough had I dismissed Alyatirno to the undertaking of most trivial tasks at Formenos, and under Turkafinwë’s keen supervision. Had I not left that ‘loyal’ lord on the shores of Araman with my half-brother’s people when those truly loyal to me sailed east?

“And the Lord Almon was also under Melkor’s sway,” stated Mandos.

I had known it, though to my great regret not until after the ships were burnt at Losgar and my youngest son with them.

‘The Deceiver spoke forth his whispers, and many of the Noldor were deceived. Aye, this I know, jailer!’ I had replied, though not without anger. ‘Did I not approach the Valar with words of warning; did I not have my father’s support to speak with Manwë of the influence of Moringotho upon our people? And was I not dismissed by Manwë as a fretting child, as one who spoke out of turn? I know that thou thinkest me to be but very unimportant save in the making of things to delight thy kind. And who set free that fell Vala to so corrupt of the Noldor? Who risked of the peace of their own realm and of the Eldar thou had summoned hence, out of loyalty to that one of their kin, and then could defend neither land nor folk from his deeds?’

Silence was there, that I thought to have driven Mandos from me by my unveiled contempt. But it was not so. After some time did he speak again, and in the same tone as he ever did. Most solemn was he.

‘Still hast thou not done as I first bid thee; thou hast taken not council with thyself that thou doest know thyself for who and what thou art. For all thy insight and skill of mind, were thou deceived, and caught in the web of malice more tightly than most. Thou hast fallen most grievously from thy bright and noble beginning, spirit of fire. In pride didst thou think thyself beyond fault or reproach, that all thy utterances were truth; that others held them so to be and no insult. Yet didst thou hold all Nolofinwë’s utterances as meaning insult and dishonour to thee of the most malicious kind.’

I answered him not. These were words he had spoken in part at that other encounter. I knew his argument, and he knew mine. Fully justified had I been in my thoughts and deeds, and not willing to give account of myself to that self-appointed judge. Neither was I so inclined to do at that moment. And never had I spoken insult to any without it being deliberate!

Yet did I know well I had been deceived: by some of my own lords, by some of those closest to me, and by the influence of Moringotho. I knew from my encounter at Formenos his aim had ever been to wrest from me my Jewels, and to destroy of me. I knew from the moment of my death that it had been but utter folly to give hurried, ill-considered pursuit of my enemy. And did I not know I should never have abandoned so many of the Noldor; should not have set fire to the ships that greater numbers had there been to bring against the Dark Lord; that my youngest son yet lived! Was it not part of the nature of being unhoused, that the fëa, disembodied, perceived that which it life it may well not have?

I knew that some of those I thought loyal unto me had believed loyalty was best served by bringing forth of false words pertaining to Nolofinwë. Did the Valar think me an utter fool? Could I not so reason that my half-brother also had false word brought to him, and that Moringotho was behind many of the lies? I knew this at Formenos, and it was a grief most sharp that I had not realised it sooner. Yet did it not alter all my cause for complaint. That Moringotho spread rumours did not negate the Valar treating the Eldar as caged pets, as amusements; neither did it nay say the enmity between Nolofinwë and I.

Nolofinwë had sought to become my rival; for the love of our father, for the place of his heir. Had he, in pride of his Vanyar blood, thought to be a better prince and leader than I. Some of the lies spread about me were of his doing! Some of the accusations brought against me were results of his envy. And he had meant to drive me from Tirion come what may. He had worked most cunningly against me as we had journeyed north, and claimed lordship over all of the Noldor by right of the will of the people, saying I was only king by the will of the Valar, whom I distained. Was he then my friend?

I was king because I was the eldest, because I was the beloved of our father, because it was my right!

Ai! So much folly! So much falseness had we all succumbed to who should have known better.

I should have seen through all the lies! I, who reckoned myself to be the greatest of the Noldor should have seen more clearly what was to come, that my people had been better led and better prepared. Yet did I know I had not always recognised the truth when I heard it. Truth and lies and half-truth! How to distinguish when even Manwë Súlimo was deceived by the lies and promises spoken unto him that he believed Moringotho to be cured of all evil?

‘I will show of thee a truth, proud spirit!’ So had Mandos paid heed to me, though I suspected he had never really done otherwise.

‘Thou didst make complaint that Nolofinwë swore to follow thee. That he said ‘Thou shalt lead and I will follow’. Thou hast claimed he meant it not; that he lied; yet did he not follow thy lead into exile and against his better judgement?’

‘He followed because he would not let me have undisputed kingship,’ said I in reply. But a sense of heaviness was upon me, that I knew it not to be the whole truth. ‘He followed because his sons so urged him, and because many of the Noldor called upon him to remain as their king. Little love did they have for me, despite my desire to set them free.’

‘So thou dost say, spirit of Fëanáro!’

In his hatred of me did I consider Mandos to be enticing, nay commanding me to a path of entrapment, to swiftly humble me to his purposes. If I could but find of a way to make stand, to hold against all he put forth, thought I, for to walk slowly and dismissively from his presence was no option. Neither was to yield!

‘Nolofinwë followed thee into the east;’ the solemn voice continued, ‘though was he forced of necessity to take a path most cruel and treacherous, and that because thou had deserted him.’

‘He followed because he was too proud to return; too feared of thy wrath over his actions at Alqualondë and those of his people. He followed out of hate of me. He could have returned to Eldamar, had that been his wish.’

‘That he followed in conceit of his own, and in rebellious spirit, is so. And also was his intent to avenge thy father. But he followed because he was the chosen leader of a people thou hadst made restless and discontent; he followed because, like thee, he would in no way turn back from a task once undertaken, even though he knew in the end it would lead but to his doom.

A vision broke before me then, like unto the one of Nelyafinwë and the one of the traversing of the Helecaraxë. Long must it have been since those visions, for I all but recoiled under the onslaught of sight beyond my control.

A white horse I beheld, a mighty and swift horse galloping across the open lands. Familiar did that place seem unto me, that I knew it to be land I had passed over in wrath filled haste, and under the stars. Looming ever closer was that mountain range, the three tall peaks of accursed Thangorodrim.

And upon the back of that horse was a mailed rider I recognised; travelling in great haste and purpose was he.

‘Nolofinwë seeks combat with Moringotho!’ Mandos stated as fact. ‘Thy half-brother follows thee still.’

I could not turn from that vision had Mandos given me chance. For I was bound fast to the pursuit of the Enemy, as it seemed was my half-brother. Had I hröa, my heart would have been pounding at that sight and at the thought of what was to come. I wished to ask naught of my jailer, but I need must know more. And if the Enemy was to be seen in vision, then so might something else be, of my own desire.

‘What has happened?’ I asked of urgency. ‘What has happened that thou doest name this a truth to show me? Why does Nolofinwë ride alone, and with no army; why does he who would be king, so ardently seek of his doom?’

‘Why didst thou ride ahead of thy army? Why did thou seek of thy doom?’

‘Vengeance’ said I. Though to myself did I ponder I had thought not of doom, and that I was mighty enough to come upon Moringotho and exact vengeance upon him single-handedly. Fey and foolish had I been in the wrath of my spirit, that I threw away such opportunity to overcome once and for all. But Nolofinwë was never as rash as I. Why was he so focused upon this deed? Why was he alone?

‘Long have the Noldor held Moringotho in siege: but no more. He is broke his bounds that the hosts he gathered in Angband cause much devastation and swiftly. Thy half-brother is king in the Hither Lands; yet has he suffered loss; is he sundered from his kin by a vast number of enemies. Naught of aid could he or Findekáno bring to those two of the sons of Arafinwë who were slain; so are their people scattered. All of thy sons, save thy eldest, are driven from their lands. It does seem for all thy eloquent words and promises that the Noldor are in utter ruin, so is Nolofinwë filled with wrath and despair.’

‘He follows the path I took.’ I had heard Mandos’ words, but the realisation of what was about to befall was upon me. ‘Nolofinwë does follow my lead to the end.’

The Doomsman watched with me it seemed, and though given to no show of emotion, did I think at one moment there was a flicker of sorrow at what was unfolding.

To the very gates of Angband Nolofinwë rode, but no Orcs came upon him, no Valaraukar issued forth to stop the single Noldo’s approach. And challenge he gave in no uncertain terms! That half-brother of mine, whom I had long despised, he called forth Moringotho to come out in single combat, naming him craven, and lord of thralls who held naught of honour.

“My sire met thee with drawn sword upon the steps of my brother’s house’ he gave cry. ‘No coward was Finwë, to hide in the depths of the treasuries until dragged forth! My brother sought of thee in single combat, and thou didst reply with a host of thy servants, with Valaraukar and Orcs to bring him down. Yet no coward was he, that he met them undismayed; never did he tremble in fear, as dost thou! And now am I come for thee, and thou shalt know me for my father’s son, and full brother in heart and in courage to Fëanáro!”

The madness of wrath burnt brightly in his eyes, and he struck mightily at the doors and sounded forth his horn that none save the dead could be unaware of his presence.

Thus did Moringotho issue forth from that abode wherein he had long hidden. Slowly did he come forth, though with great noise as of thunder. For he was afraid! And by his movement and stance did I realise he was not as he once had been, and that there was as a deadly weariness, and great pain upon him; even upon him!

‘The Silmarils!’ I cried forth, filled with burning desire to gaze upon them. ‘The works of my hands it is that do drain him of his might. Though he craves of the light, yet in his greed to possess it does it destroy him!’

So stern was Mandos’ response. ‘Behold thou the truth!’

There did he stand: he whom I hated beyond recall. The first I had seen of him since the time I dismissed him forth from my door with words of most deliberate insult, it was. The Enemy; the Power of Terror and of Hate, Morgoth Bauglir, foe of the world. My enemy! Clad in black armour was he, with a vast shield in one hand and the mighty hammer, Grond, in the other. And upon his head was a crown of iron in which was set the Great Jewels.

Ai! My heart’s love! Yet I could not claim them nor take them back into my keeping. The very sight of their beauty atop that horror, though in vision, filled me with an echo of the music I had sung into their creation. As if my own heart did again give beat it was, and the glory and radiance of that which was mine glimmered life anew into my fëa.

My Jewels!

But the combat had begun.

They circled each other, those mismatched combatants, each hampered by emotion, I could see! For as that Vala knew fear of an Elda, yet did Nolofinwë know of blinding rage. Again and again did Moringotho hurl aloft his dread hammer, and make to bring it down upon the small figure of my half-brother, to crush him into the dust. But he was swift, that second son of Finwë, and avoided each blow, striking back wounding glances seven times with his ice like sword, with Ringil. Each time did the Vala utter a terrible cry of anguish that echoed throughout the land. And I was glad!

‘None of the Valar canst thou overcome’, they were the words spoken me by the messenger of Manwë. Does this hold also for my half-brother?’ I asked, though did I observe most carefully the battle. Did I know that the strength of Moringotho, though limited, still left him as mighty beyond measure. As greater in endurance than even his opponent!

No answer came.

So did I know the outcome of that moment. As I watched, though the glory of the Silmarils ever drew my eye, yet was there a glory also upon Nolofinwë that he fought so valiantly, that he was one who gleamed before that darkness as a bright star.

We should have made stand together, he and I! The unbidden thought pierced through all my illusions that I knew it for a truth. Had Moringotho’s well placed lies not so divided us, had we given of battle shoulder to shoulder, could the sons of Finwë have defied the pronouncement of Eonwë! Could I but have fought beside Nolofinwe and added of my strength to his, we could have overcome.

But I, in my folly, had hastened to my doom. Now did it seem my half-brother did likewise.

Thus it came to pass that Nolofinwë tired, that it seemed his movements slowed and he grew weary. Thrice did Moringotho bring down his shield upon his valiant adversary; thrice did Nolofinwë struggle again to his feet, bearing up his own broken shield in an attempt to continue. But then he stumbled upon the rent ground, falling backwards into the dust, and Moringotho put his foot upon my half-brother’s neck.

That memory of Nelyafinwë reaching swiftly to take up the falling Kanafinwë, to offer aid to his younger brother that he be not hurt; it echoed in my mind, that if I had breath I would have gasped aloud at the realisation and anger that filled me.

“No!” I had cried fiercely. ‘May it not be so!’

At that moment Nolofinwë had summoned of his remaining strength, and with a last and desperate stroke he hewed at the foot that was upon him, that black blood rushed forth, smoking, and filling the pits on the ground left by the many vain blows of Grond.

And so he died!

In vision, and before my eyes; though I had no means of knowing if it was a long past event, the eldest son of Indis died. Naught was there I could do to give of aid, to take up he who was fallen even had I so wished.

I saw that Moringotho was breaking the body of his opponent, treading him underfoot, and the Vala uttered of a call to summon his wolves to him. But the mighty king of the eagles descended to rend at the face of Moringotho, and bore away the body of the king of the Noldor out of my sight.

Long did I ponder of all that I had seen and heard. So did Mandos leave me be for some time. Now the sight of the Silmarils had stirred again in me a desperate longing to reclaim them. Not that I was in any position so to do! And I thought upon what I had witnessed, that the Noldor faced utter ruin, that my sons were scattered. Little hope was there, I considered; little hope save for Nelyafinwë, who, with Kanafinwë, held yet his lands, and would continue to prove himself his father’s son. But many were the truths I understood from that vision; many things that should have been, but for my lack of love for the sons of Indis, were not. Mayhap she had been right about him, that lady of mine, as she had been right about other things? Mayhap Nolofinwë had sought to follow me in his youth out of admiration? Mayhap it had been long before I taught him to hate of me? Better to ponder awhile upon Nolofinwë, thought I, and without Mandos’ instruction so to do; for had he not, in his ending, shown of much that even I could admire? In truth was I saddened at his demise, as I had never thought to be.


‘Is he here? Is he in this place? ‘ I asked after a while.


‘Of which spirit of the slain dost thou speak?’ came Mandos swift reply.


‘Nolofinwe! Would that I could speak with my brother.’


‘Thy brother,?’ questioned Mandos. ‘Namest thou Nolofinwë thy brother?’


So again, did Nolofinwe have the victory! But no longer did I feel a sting of humiliation at the knowledge.


Telvo - Amras
Nolofinwe – Fingolfin
Nelyafinwë / Nelyo – Maedhros
Kanafinwë / Káno – Maglor
Moringotho – Morgoth
Findekáno - Fingon
Arafinwe – Finarfin
Aikanáro – Aegnor
Curvo – Curufin
Turkafinwë / Turko – Celegorm
Angaráto - Angrod
Morifinwë / Moryo - Carnistir
Pityo / Pityafinwë - Amrod
Findaráto - Finrod

Nerdanel's Story: Chapter Two. Fëanáro. Part One.


I will try to keep these re-edited chapters coming up regularly. I would like to have all of he re-written 'Nerdanel's Story' published as soon as possible.

I have posted the same new chapters on the 'Council of Elrond' as on this blog - but I still can't get ff.net to upload the new versions of the story. I hope the situation is sorted soon. :(

I have a lot of pms and e-mails to reply to again. I hope to get to them soon. It looks like a very busy day for me tomorrow, and I have a headache... but things might work out better than I expect! :)


Nerdanel’s Story: Fëanáro. Part One.


(Disclaimer: All of the characters, places, and the main story line are JRR Tolkien’s wonderful creations. All references are from The Silmarillion, or HoME Volumes 1, 3,10, 11 or 12. Nothing is mine, except the interpretation and any mistakes, and in this chapter, and only in the sense he is derived from reading the works of Tolkien, the character ‘Gaerion’.)




“In her youth she (Nerdanel) loved to wander far from the dwellings of the Noldor, either beside the long shores of the Sea or in the hills; and thus she and Fëanor had met and were companions in many journeys.”

(‘The Later Quenta Silmarillion’. HoME 10 Morgoth’s Ring. JRR Tolkien. HarperCollins Ed. 2002 p272)



The house of Sarmo Urundil. Seventh Age.


So shall I write of him, as I alone knew him to be; that some may come to realise there was more to the paradox of the ‘Spirit of Fire’ than flame alone. The brightest light of the Noldor was he: most skilled, most subtle of mind, most enduring, most illuminating – most beautiful to behold. Yet it is truth that fire can be fiercely destructive if not properly contained. That when free to do as it will, it destroys all it comes into contact with.

Now Míriel did much to contain and soften her son’s impetuous character while she lived, and he long allowed, nay, encouraged me to do likewise through the giving of gentle council. When the fires of his heart became over-heated, did he not turn to me to help him of restraint? Did he not know the rashness of his temper was self-defeating! Ai! One of the very few things that could defeat him was his temper! He endeavoured to curb his mood on many occasions, and oft succeeded. For he was of high and noble blood - it was not his intention to destroy, but to create. And that could only be done by a fire that was under his control, and no conflagration.

To his father and to our people in times past, was he Curufinwë - Finwë’s skill, his pride, his beloved firstborn son. In the privacy of our union was he oft Finwion, and that childhood name meant as no discourtesy, but spoken first in loving affirmation of his place in his father’s heart – and in mine! There was a time in the later days when he wished to be known as the Þerendion, out of respect for his mother, and defiance of those linguistic loremasters who so offended him - whom he believed were following the Valar’s plot to oust him from his position of authority. Atar was he to seven sons - a role he tried hard to fulfil, though many imply he was poor at that task. So poor was he that all his sons loved him! All would all have followed him wherever he led. All would – and did, save for one – die for him! And before the end, when the madness of grief and anger was upon him, was he our High King!

Ever complex was he - though was Míriel’s name of Fëanáro best suited to his dominant characteristics.

So shall I write of Fëanáro, as I once knew him to be! Where to start? Mayhap with one area concerning which, little was ever put into script – with our meeting, our courtship and our marriage.


- - - - -


I know what some few have written: that Fëanáro wed me for my father’s skill; for the knowledge of the lore of crafting with metal that Aulë passed on to Urundil.

It was not so!

We wed for love! Neither guile nor deception was possible, for the intent of the heart we read in each other’s eyes and confirmed in our union. And Fëanáro was in no way tainted, in no way corrupted from the norm of the Eldar in that matter. How foolish would he have been to bind himself in fëa to a wife for all time, chose she who was to be mother to his children in order to gain a skill that he could acquire from my father anyway?

What I sometimes ponder is why those who believe my lord was essentially evil consider I accepted him? Was I not one of those most devoted to the Valar? Was I not considered wise? Overwhelmed by the intensity of Prince Fëanáro’s attention, by his steadfast pursuit though I was, I would not have contemplated a betrothal, most certainly not wed with one in whom there was any evidence of wickedness or cruelty.

“But nothing is evil in the beginning.” I hear your unspoken words!

Such is truth! Not even Curumo or Sauro were created evil. Such a thing Eru does not do! So do I make my point; that neither Fëanáro nor any of our sons were intrinsically evil.

But much is said of Fëanáro and wickedness - and it is love that I would speak of! Now it is said in some writings, and widely accepted, that Fëanáro’s greatest love was for his father and for the great jewels. In some ways was that so, but it meant not that he had little love for any other. He felt emotion with intense depth and passion, yet love and grief, were they not close fellows in his heart? He, who was so strong in so many ways, gave of himself utterly, or not at all. Jealously did he guard any to whom his love was given, least he lost again the object of his desire and could not endure the pain of separation. Herein, if such you look for, lay a flaw in his character; but who amongst the Children of Eru is perfect? Most dear was his mother to him, you must understand. Yet long did I know, and our sons also, that we were most dear to his heart.


- - - - -


Now, in my early youth I was in the habit of walking oft in the hills or by the long shores of the sea. Though I loved my studies and my training with my father, I continued with the delight of wandering the Blessed Realm my mother had bequeathed to me. In my early childhood I had spent much time with her by the sea, and later I walked there alone, pondering the mysteries of life. There was no real threat, no real danger to a maid wandering unescorted. None there were who would accost her, nor harm her in any way. Such thoughts were not in the minds of the Eldar. There was no danger from the creatures of the land, so it was that only had I been exceptionally careless or chosen to throw myself off a mountain or a cliff onto rocks below that I would have suffered great harm.

There were some occasions when I walked by the shores that I had the company of a Teler youth. He taught me of the life of the coastlands, of the creatures of the seas, and spoke with a musical lilt of his longing for the sea swell and salt air. He spoke also of the white ship he hoped to one-day command. A silver-haired boy was he, of happy countenance; a free spirit who enjoyed my company it seemed. My father was not so happy when I mentioned Gaerion to him.

“A Teler! What do you and he have in common, daughter?” Urundil had spoken with no small concern. We were among the first of that generation to grow to maturity in Aman, Gaerion and I. Though neither of us was then full grown, it was widely known that some had already chosen one another for betrothal. My father had no issue with my choice of a Teleri friend; indeed, did he not have friends amongst the Teleri? But he was becoming aware that I was reaching an age when I might begin to consider my choice of a husband. He thought it unwise of me to give my heart’s love to one who did not share my interests, or my growing devotion to Aulë.

“The Teleri give of their loyalty to Ulmo and to Ossë; in them do they put their trust. It is not so with the Noldor,” my father reminded me.

I knew that my father had hopes of me choosing to serve Aulë of my own accord. To that end he directed his instructing of me in skills of metalwork and stonework. He need not have worried, however. Although I loved well the company of Gaerion I had not the longing nor affinity of fëa with him which would have led us to espouse. Of a seafaring family was he - not one such as Tolfaen to hold my interest with talk of works of skill. And soon enough was I to meet with one whom my father could not fault. Not at that time!


- - - - - - -


It came to pass, that I had been away from the dwellings of the Aulenduri for two days - not overly long for my usual walks - when upon my homeward journey I met with another in the hills.

At the time of my encounter had I decided to climb atop a large, anvil shaped rock that seemed to loom as a stone guardian over the western entrance to the Calacirya. We called that rock ‘Aulë’s fortress’, though no such place had we then built. A most pleasant spot it was to take of a short rest before I made my final decent. I had brought out some fruit, some waybread and water, thinking to partake and enjoy the view over the fields below. Enjoy the view I did!

Though at times I met with others on my wanderings, there were many paths to explore and I could easily travel in solitude. But a lone figure there was that day in the valley beneath me, swiftly making his way up to the rock upon which I sat.

Fast and purposeful was his stride, as one who knew exactly where he was going. A tall figure, taller than most, with a slender wiriness of form that I suspected belied the true measure of his strength. The breeze had caught up his raven-black hair as a banner, and his cloak of silver grey swirled down from broad, powerful shoulders. Young was he, as of my generation rather than those who had made the great march. Yet in some manner he seemed to carry the weight of ages with him.

In the same instant that I focused upon him, he looked up to the heights, so that his eyes met mine. It was as if he saw through my thoughts into my very fëa with those piercingly bright, grey-blue eyes. Such forcefulness and purpose was in his gaze that it was all I could do not to bow my head to him in the deference one would show a Vala. So it seemed as if an enchantment had been laid upon me, for in my heart arose a sudden, hitherto unknown desire.

Still maintaining his swift approach, he spoke:

“Well met, my lady! I had not thought to chance upon another so far from habitation this day.”

In hearing his words I was doubly ensnared, for his voice was beguilingly potent.

Most easily could I have lost my sense of propriety in that instant - could I have made declaration of love or devotion to one I knew not. But it is not in the nature of the Eldar to be swayed in heart by fair appearance alone. Nor was I overcome that I would disregard the courtesy one should give a fellow traveller.

“Well met, my lord,” I responded, though my heart beat noticeably faster than I had ever remembered. Something there was about him that clearly said he was no ordinary Elda. And such an air of authority did he have, as one who answered but to his own will. I wondered if he could be a Maia, choosing to take recognisable form in order to converse with me more easily? Many of the servants of the Valar had I known in my short life, but he was not one of them – neither did he have the demeanour of being servant to any!

Until that moment, most serious of expression had he been. But then a knowing smile lit his face almost as if he recognised me. Pausing but a few feet away from the rock upon which I still sat, he looked up at me intently.

I, who could be wilful of nature myself and - as daughter of the Master-Smith of the Noldor - was a lady of no small importance, stood up under his appraisal as I would have done for no other. Of that instant it mattered greatly to me that the stranger liked what he beheld.

“Who are you, if I may ask, my lord? From whence do you come?”

Mayhap I should have waited upon him speaking further, since it was not considered good manners for a maid to be overbold. Yet I could not deny my nature. Though I was one to listen, yet could I also be forthright.

The smile that graced his features was in earnest, for the light of his eyes under dark brows sparkled with merriment; amused it seemed to me, that I knew not who he was.

“I am from Tirion!” he responded in a lighter, almost bantering, tone, “The son of one of the noble houses. And you, my lady?” Though he had not given me his own name, there was something compelling about his request.

“I am Nerdanel, daughter of Urundil, servant of Aulë,” I stated with some pride. Surely anyone from Tirion would have heard of my father?

“Of Urundil I know, and of his favour with king and Valar.” He advanced up the hillside until he stood at a point higher than I, that I of need altered position to be polite – to look up to him. But he took not his eyes from me, regarding me with more intensity than could be considered appropriate for a stranger. “And of you also, Lady Nerdanel, have I heard.”

At that acknowledgement I felt colour rushing to my cheeks, as it was apt to do when I felt strong emotion. He laughed. Not a mocking sound, but one of amusement, presumably at his further discovery my reactions could not easily be concealed.

“You will come down from your fortress and keep company with me a while, Nerdanel, daughter of Urundil!” Again of light humour, he made slight bow of acknowledgement to me. An elegant and correct bow it was, of one so very sure of himself. Then, gesturing to the foothills of the Pelóri, he added: “I am heading north.”

I was not my usual behaviour to wander off with someone to whom I had not been formally introduced, but how could I have denied him. It was not a question he had asked me, but a statement of fact! I would keep company with him! So unlike anyone I had previously met was he, and so overwhelmed by his presence was I, that I was even unaware of Laurelin coming into full bloom behind me. Only later did I realise, and with some amusement of my own, that I must have appeared to him as a rare sight in that moment; as one whose hair of brown had become a copper-red glow upon that hillside.

I packed again my supplies, descended from the rock, and we walked together, discussing many things. Though I knew him to be of a high status he did not seem aloof in the way of some nobles I had met. Fierce, arrogant – aye, but there was something comfortingly familiar about him as well. It was as if we had always known each other! Soon I found I was far more comfortable with my companion than with many of my father’s apprentices, though I lost not the sense of awe that he had wanted to walk with me. He asked questions, to which I gave as swift and well explained reply as I could, and I matched his wit and mood until we found ourselves laughing together as the youths we still were. We made race of ascending certain hills, that I stood little chance of winning. We climbed higher and faster than I had ever done. Yet I competed against this new ‘friend’ with a will, that he knew me for no idle nís of his city, but strong and independent - a true Noldo in every way. Of Aulë we spoke, and of crafting in stone. Most pleased was I that he had both interest in, and knowledge of such matters. At my mention of this he again look most amused. Such discussions were unusual with a maid. We spoke of exploring the land and of places we had seen - of Valmar, and of the city of Tirion with its halls and high towers and terraced gardens.

“You visit oft with Aulë, Nerdanel? Strange it is, that I have not come across you in his dwellings.”

No passing interest in crafting did he then have, to visit with Aulë! I wondered how he knew so well of the Vala, how he knew so much of matters of skill, not being of the families of the Aulenduri. But then I considered he may have trained with those few Aulenduri in Tirion, and Aulë gave welcome and guidance to any of the Noldor who sought of him.

“I visit Valmar with my family whenever I am able. Though much of my time is spent with Aulë’s folk rather than with the Vala himself. The Maia, Curumo, has even taken interest in my work and given me of aid.” My companion seemed interested in this information, so I continued somewhat arrogantly. “Well do I know Valmar! I prefer to remain there or in the dwellings of the Aulenduri at this time, my lord. I think I should find Tirion too busy, too full of folk for my present liking. My heart is most truly in the hills, in exploration, in the desire of knowledge and in the service of Aulë. All these things I already enjoy.”

“You have never been to Tirion then!” he retorted, with some surprise that I was so inexperienced of the life he knew. “You, who say that you desire knowledge, have you never wanted to visit the Hall of the Loremasters, nor wished to gaze upon the image of Telperion that stands in the courts beneath the Mindon? Have you not wished to speak with the wise of our folk upon the concourses and in the gardens of the city? Have you not wished to see King Finwë, aye, even to speak with him? For our most noble ruler, he does oft walk amongst his people that the doors to his house are open to all.”

I blushed again, to my annoyance, but he was not unkind and acted as if all were normal to him.

“I should like to visit them, indeed! But my part - my future, I think - lies in sculpting. I work well with stone, with metal, and also I have some small skill with gems, my father says. King Finwë I have met, though only once, and not to speak with. Who is to say that I may not serve he and the folk of Tirion further through my work? I made a sculpture for the queen herself a while ago. A likeness of her! She had asked me to make her a gift, before -- before she --”

“Before she died,” he finished for me, with rather more solemnity than he had previously shown. The light humour vanished from his expression. Many folk yet spoke in muted tones of the death of Míriel, for none truly understood it.

“I have seen your work for her and know that Queen Míriel was well pleased with it. So pleased that she gave it to her son before she lay down in the gardens of Lórien to seek her rest.” The tone of his voice altered to that of someone who had long pondered the mystery and found it a sorrow that was beyond reason. Many moments passed before I felt able to respond, and break in upon his changed mood.

“I am pleased my work brought her joy, my lord.” I lowered my head without further thought, so as to match his bearing. “She was a noble lady indeed, a friend of my mother’s from their youth. I would have done all that I could to be of assistance to her.”

Now I reflected also, and believed I knew who he was: a friend of the prince, surely? How else could he know of intimate matters of the court? And sorrowful was I that I had been more talkative than was my wont: that I had neither sought to listen as carefully as I should, nor to understand more my companion. I did not know the ways of the people of Tirion to any extent. Until that moment I had not overly wished to. There was time enough in the life of Arda for all things, I had believed. In due course I had intended to travel to the city. But that lord’s presence, his words lit a fire in me: an eagerness to know more of his world.


- - - - -


I told my parents of that meeting upon my return home. They knew from my tone of voice that I liked well the one I had met.

“He had not the courtesy to give you his name, or to escort you back to our house?” Taurlotë, my mother, asked me in amazement, considering this a grave breach of good manners. She put down the design for decorating a goblet she was working upon, to give me her full attention.

“I did not ask him his name, mother; only who he was. To that he gave reply of sorts. He walked with me to the edge of the valley, but then headed north again – into the hills. Much do I think was on his mind that he wanted of solitude.”

Now in truth had I found the constant use of ‘herunya’, though a correct term of address, rather distancing for one I had spent over a day with. So, as my companion had not been forthcoming with his true name had I named him of my own device, ‘Muinawë’, for he kept his identity hidden, as a game I had assumed. At times had I address him as such in a mischievous tone, which he accepted with a rather ironic smile. But that name I kept hidden in itself, telling neither my parents nor any other.

My mother had looked concerned and made a dismissive sound. “His attitude holds more of arrogance than I find pleasing, no matter what you say!”

When I described him further in manner and appearance my father looked perplexed, as if he were trying to decide upon something.

“Grey-blue eyes, you say! I have met few neri amongst the Noldor with grey-blue eyes. I will speak with Onónon when next I visit the city, for if this companion of yours has any training in matters of skill, then my sister’s husband will surely know of him.”

I had wanted to speak more of my travels to my parents, but at that time decided against it. Already I had given them much to consider. I would not entertain any further contemplation, for how was I to know when, or even if, ‘Muinawë’ and I would meet again?

“Think nothing of it,” said I; trying over late to make light of my encounter. “For he is certainly from one of our noblest houses, and will have many a wendë fawning over him. He is not likely to seek further of my company.”

My mother’s face took on a look of concern. "Be not so certain of that,” she whispered, with not a little foresight.


- -- - - - -


Curufinwë – Skilled Finwë
Finwion – Son of Finwë
Þerendion – Son of the Þerendë (The Needlewoman. Míriel.)
Aulendur - Servant of Aulë
Moringotho - Morgoth
wendë - girl, young she-Elf
Nís / nissi – She Elf / Elves
Nér / Neri – He Elf / Elves
Curumo – Saruman. Curunir
Sauro - Sauron. This name is mentioned in HoME 5.
herunya – My lord.
Muinawë – Hidden / secret one.

Nerdanel's Story: Chapter One. Míriel.

Again, a revised chapter of the earlier story. I have tried to add a little more background to Nerdanel's character, and give Finwë more of a presence from early on. I realised I had not portrayed him anywhere near as much as I should have.

As will be further explained in a later chapter - and expaneded upon in another 'Flame Rekindled', Fëanor's absence from a visit that would surely have interested him, is because he is 'grounded'!

And a few days now without migraines - so on with the tale!

The picture is a doodle I did of Fëanor with Finwë and Indis in the background. Not one of my better doodles, I'm afraid, (done on the back of an envelope!, but I need to re-size some of my drawings as well as re-edit some of my writing! ;)


Nerdanel’s Story. Chapter One: Míriel.


(Disclaimer: All of the characters are JRR Tolkien’s. All references are from The Silmarillion, or HoME Volumes 1, 3, 10, 11 and 12. Nothing is mine, except the interpretation and any mistakes.)


With thanks to Bellemaine and to Eru_Melin.


“Her father, Mahtan, was a great smith, and among those of the Noldor most dear to the heart of Aulë. Of Mahtan Nerdanel learned much of crafts that women of the Noldor seldom used: the making of things of metal and stone.’

(The later Quenta Silmarillion. HoME 10 Morgoth’s Ring JRR Tolkien. HarperCollins Ed 2002 p 272)




The house of Sarmo Urundil. Seventh Age.


I used to stand by the window of our room in the high tower of our home in Tirion. I used to stand and watch to the west when I knew, from our bond of fëar, that he was returning from a journey. Always would I hurry to give him welcome for, particularly when he and our sons had been away on long exploration, I would be delighted at the prospect of our reunion. And for a time upon his return would I alone claim his interest. Happy years were they.

When they all went into exile, when my lord and our sons went into the north to build the fortress of Formenos, I oft looked hence from my room in the high tower of my father’s house. But a poor view had I from that location, as to the north the foothills of the mountains obscure the vista. My sons rode forth at times to pay me visit. But ever loyal to their father were they that their company was less frequent than I wished. It was Makalaurë, Carnistir and the twins whom I saw most often. Tyelkormo I saw not at all.

Then, when they all left this land in the darkness on that second, that most dread exile, I said my ‘farewells’ to each of them - but I could not watch them depart.

When we again had light, the bright light of Vása, I oft stood atop the turret of the high tower of my father’s house, looking into the east. Though by then I knew that my lord was slain, that our youngest son had perished, I still had hope for the remaining six and for Tyelpinquar - until Eärendil set foot in Aman.

There came the time when the Valar allowed the return of the exiles from the Hither Lands. After the War of Wrath many of those so exiled return with the armies of the Vanyar and those Noldor led by King Arafinwë. I went with my mother, to the harbour that was then being built upon Tol Eressëa. Cloaked and hooded we went; that it was not obvious to all whom we were. It would not have done for those returning to see amongst their first sights of the West, the wife of he who had led them to such tribulation.

Though I believed that only my two eldest sons lived, neither of them returned with the fleet. So fell was the news that my husband’s youngest brother, our king, brought word to me himself rather than send a messenger.

Maitimo was dead - having killed again to seize a Silmaril from the camp of Eonwë, and then cast himself and the jewel into a fiery chasm in utter despair.

None truly knew what had befallen Makalaurë; save he had taken the last Silmaril, but then cast it into the sea – it having burnt and scared his hands most terribly. Some few even said he had cast himself into the waters and drowned. Yet rumours had persisted that he had wandered to the northern shores, though none made specific claim to have seen him.

Throughout that Second Age I still looked to the east, for the return of Makalaurë or of my grandson. It was never to happen.

Not that I was the only one to suffer grievous disappointment. Many were to realise the fate of those from whom they had been sundered was to bide long in the halls of Námo Mandos. Bide long the slain of the Noldor did, save a few such as the Lords Glorfindel and Ecthelion, and Prince Findaráto.

Yet now have all returned from the Hither Lands, and very many returned from the care of Mandos that it seems I alone am still bereaved. Prince Findekáno returned of late to his mother’s people, and now dwells upon Tol Eressëa. They say that Turukáno will also soon return. That Anairë’s eldest son walks in the land of the living should renew my expectancy. Yet it does but make me ponder. Though the Valar understand my pain, for the good of all the Noldor they can never allow any son of Fëanáro to be restored, to greet again of his mother in the Realm of Aman.

“Though you do no wrong in seeking an end to your grief, yet I believe that the higher path is to endure your vigil” Istyaro tells me. “Some things are hidden in the will of Ilúvatar, that we know not all that may transpire. And the Valar look less willingly upon those who would be restored, having once chosen to lay down their life in hröa.”

My learned friend from old has a very good point! Who is to say that if I chose to depart, one of my sons might not then be granted restoration? Who is to say that Makalaurë may not – at last - find his way home?

Who truly knows, save for Eru?

If the Valar are yet compassionate, and what is told by those restored is true - that great love binds fëar even in that place of Mandos - I could again be with my sons - be with some of them, at a time of my choosing. Mayhap could I even be with he whom I abandoned? Mayhap that will be my choice?

But not yet!

No more watching from windows for those who do not return. No more crafting! It is time to finally put away my works of sculpting, to take up my pen to do battle with Moringotho’s legacy - to set down in script those memories that are my glory and my shame.


- - - - - - -


I was born in the Year of the Trees 1180, during that time when many of the Eldar first began the bearing of children. Prince Finwion – Fëanáro - first begotten in Aman, was himself born late in the previous year. Following the lead of their king, the Noldor began to again seek increase to their numbers. Yet all was not as joyful as it should have been; for in the bearing of Fëanáro, Queen Míriel became consumed in hröa and in fëa. She yearned from that time forth for release from life. That was the first sorrow to enter the Blessed Realm, and at it many wondered.

My father, Sarmo Urundil, also known in some writings as Mahtan, gave me the name Nerdanel. He is still a great craftsman amongst the Noldor being foremost in the regard of the Vala, Aulë. Though my father has a most stern streak of temperament, and is sometimes brusque with his apprentices, yet has he always loved me dearly and sought of my happiness. Only to be expected it was that he wished to bring two of his greatest loves together; so from him was I given tutelage in those skills of metal and stone that are rare amongst nissi.

Istarnië was the name given me by my mother, Taurlotë. Always, does she say, she hoped for a wise and knowledgeable daughter. Wisdom and patience are characteristics she has always valued highly. From her it was that I was given much understanding of the history and lore of our people, and skill in the tending of plants. My mother has a love of learning, of knowledge of many kinds. I remember her joy in sharing with me the early works of the sage, Rúmil, who was the first to develop a written script. She also loves the stars and would, when the mood was upon her, wander with me to the seashores where we would spend long ages together watching the sky. There would she tell me of the starlit Hither Lands, to the east of the seas, whence she and my father had originally come - the memory of which was imbedded in her heart. In the service of Varda do I think my mother would have been most happy. But a true Noldo is she, who likes making things of her own cunning. When I was a child she would draw and paint the likenesses of the Valar in the physical forms they oft appeared to us. She would make carvings in stone, small sculptures for the most part, but lifelike to behold. So were my earliest works mostly imitations of hers, in drawing and painting and sculpting.

We lived then as we do now, in a sprawling collection of houses clustered at the western end of the Calacirya near the foothills of the Pelóri Mountains: the dwellings of the Aulenduri. Aulë was ever the friend and helper of all the Noldor, but we were among those families who had entered his service. From him we received instruction in the lore of metalwork, stonework, and the crafting of gems - in weaving and shaping of wood and the tilling of the land. My father’s good service since his arrival in Aman had ensured he was most dear to Aulë. He was oft a guest in the halls of that mighty Vala. My mother and I would, when chance allowed, accompany him there. Thus, from my earliest memories, was I familiar with some few of the Valar and Maiar.

I loved Aulë: his pleasure in works of skill, his desire to make things new and unheard of. Mostly I loved the way he - one of the Great Ones - gave praise and counsel to others, and listened to them in turn. He listened most attentively to my father’s setting forth of plans and devices. Indeed, there has only ever been one whom Aulë loved and listened to more than Urundil.

Now rarely was the work of the Aulenduri disturbed, but given the location of our dwellings, as well as the requirements of our expertise by others, some visitors we inevitably had. Near times of festival our visitors were oft the highborn lords and ladies of our people, whose estates lay on the edge of Eldamar and Valinor and who were travelling to and from the fair city of Tirion. Sometimes would they halt to request of refreshment from us. At other times would they seek to take rest in the many roomed house provided for that purpose. Then it was that the neri would take of opportunity to discuss works of craft with my father and his leading apprentice, Narwasar. Though of nature were my father and our artisans reluctant to leave of their pursuits, yet was the welcoming of others a most noble duty. Despite his brusqueness, my father could be patience itself when explaining his craft to any who showed genuine interest.

My mother and our servants took upon themselves the main task of offering hospitality, so my father be not disturbed save at great need. From the first I could walk I sought to give aid to my mother in that service, though out of curiosity as well as a desire to be considerate. Fiercely proud yet beautiful to look upon were our lords and ladies, and a most intriguing sight were their colourful cavalcades to me as a young maid. I would eagerly watch their approach - and when they left I would rush up the many flights of stairs to watch of their departure from my widow until they were but specks against the distant green hill of Túna.

During those visits, while the lords were occupied with my father, my mother and I spent time with their ladies. Strange did I find their lack of interest in smith craft. Strange, no doubt, did many a lady find me, and though they would attempt to speak with me of broidery, herbs and plants, yet did they look perplexed when I turned conversation to sculpting.

“What an unusual hína, Lady Taurlotë! So knowledgeable for her years; yet think you not she dwells overmuch in the forge?”

“Nerdanel is as Eru intends her to be. (All did bow their heads at the use of that name.) My lord Urundil does but encourage her natural inclinations, as do I”

Most of the ladies would smile kindly upon me at hearing such words from my mother, but some few would continue to view me as an oddity. Once I heard what I was not meant to, and that from a lady of aloof elegance speaking to her maid:

“The child of this house has unnatural interests – but, as she has no great beauty to enthral the lords of the city, it will be no loss for her to find her place working amongst the stone masons.”

No great beauty! Do not all of the Eldar, all of the Quendi, possess beauty? Does it not draw us; inspire us in our thoughts and deeds? Yet beauty is not only of the kind that meets the eye. I had not thought of myself as beautiful or otherwise until that moment. But never had I heard any speak thus of another. That fine lady’s words so stung me that I hurried up the stairs to my room, where I examined my features in the mirror upon the wall.

So for the first time I made thorough study of myself, as if I would later make sketch. My hair was a touch unruly when un-braided and it had a will of its own in whether it would curl or no. My eyes were just a little smaller, a little more almond of shape than some would wish for; my mouth was somewhat small, though well curved were my lips. I knew not how I was expected to appear to meet that high lady’s criteria, but experimented with varying expressions and arrangements of hair until, after at least half of one hour, my mother found me so doing.

Moving aside the russet and green tapestry cushions, she sat upon the coverlet of my bed and spoke most gently to me.

“Do not confuse high-born blood with nobility, daughter, though most times do both go together. Yet some of our lords and our ladies have more arrogance - more ignorance - than is good for them.”

Wise words they were, from one who knew the noblest, the most beautiful of our ladies as a childhood friend, and had been amongst her companions on the great march.

“Beauty is important,” she continued, “but those who make comment upon what they perceive from a few moments’ glance are somewhat immature, do you not think? Nobler are they who seek to praise, rather than to belittle. Those who are truly beautiful think little of it.”

“That I understand, mother” I had sought to reassure her that I was not overly distressed. “And I hope I am learning to know true nobility and beauty when I see it.”

She had smiled in return, but sought to reassure me all the same. “Though in appearance you make no impression upon that lady, yet are you beautiful, Nerdanel.”

But she was my mother! I would not have expected her to say otherwise.

Though neither my mother nor I travelled to the city in the days of my childhood, we knew a little of what transpired in Tirion. My father would travel there himself six times a year, or more often should the king summon him. A few of the Aulenduri had set up a small enclave within the city walls, to be at hand for the immediate requirement of the king’s house as well as of others. Amongst them were my father’s sister’s family. So were we kept informed of the desires and delights of those seeking to build new dwellings or to make decoration of their existing ones. Also were we informed of the marriages and births amongst the folk with whom we were aquatinted. All of the Aulenduri knew of the most disconcerting news - the weakness endured by our queen - and of the fast growing reputation of the son she sacrificed so much to bear.

“It is said that the young Finwion has much of the look of Míriel about him,” my mother had commented one instance at late meal. The first comment I was to consciously hear of him, it was.

My father, who had recently returned from a visit with King Finwë, had nodded in agreement.

“So I have observed, Taurlotë. Though dark of hair is he, like unto his father. I met him but once. Swift of thought and word is he for a child. Onónon has begun tutoring him in smith craft, Tulcavaryar in sport and the hunt and Niecarindo in lore. He holds much promise, I deem, to have the skills of both his parents, and a great love of knowledge.”

“And great impetuousness and temper too, it is said - that Míriel named him Fëanáro!”

My father made a wry expression that suggested there was some truth to this mother-name of insight. “Onónon said that he finds the prince - challenging!”

But Finwë was a strong king who commanded great respect. We thought he would also be a strong and guiding father. No need had we to be overly concerned with the ‘Spirit of Fire’s’ seemingly complex nature. The children of the Eldar are normally most biddable, and Prince Finwion’s parents would assuredly teach him of restraint, as he grew older.

Now, there was one time when Tolfaen, the renowned Teleri silversmith, paid us visit at my father’s request. He stayed at our house for several days as honoured guest, rather than in the separate dwelling. I liked him well; for he was very different in appearance and demeanour from the apprentices whose company I was used to. Gently spoken was he, though enthusiastic when talking of the skills he had learnt from the Maia, Salmar. On one particular occasion did he call me ‘Nerdanel the Wise’, for the vast amount of my childish ‘wisdom’ I freely bestowed upon him; and he gave me a necklace made from seashells. (Though of nature am I one to listen carefully to others, yet in my younger days could I talk overmuch to those whom I esteemed.) Most knowledgeable was he that my father - who preferred working with copper - sought to learn more of silver craft from him. A friend of my parents from that time forth, Tolfaen was to visit with them many times in the following years, and even to offer me an apprenticeship in the skills of the Teleri smiths.

So it was that we lived fairly quietly in the days of my childhood. I was most content with the life that had been granted me. Then, when I was almost two years of age, King Finwë himself came to visit.


- - - - - - -


Now as is well known, the stonemasons of the Noldor quarrying to find marble with which to build, had come across those gifts of Aulë, those gems of the earth whose radiance so enchants us. Freely we gave of them to each other and oft to the Teleri, with whom we had a deep friendship. It was in answer to the prayers of our king that Ulmo brought the Teleri into the west in the first place. My parents said that there had been rejoicing amongst our people when those of the third kindred had, at last, set foot upon these shores. Not so long before I was born, my parents had themselves given aid in building the Swan Haven, the city of Alqualondë for King Olwë. (Alas for the horror that befell that friendship, for the abomination of Teleri blood spilt by the Noldor - by my family!) But, at the time I would write of, work had been undertaken amongst the Aulenduri of crafting the most impressive of the gems into fine jewellery. There was to be a gift of one friend to another, a gift from Finwë to Olwë. To see what progress my father had made with that work was the reason for our guest’s presence.

My mother spoke to me with thinly veiled concern, however. “This visit is as much an attempt to bring some lightness of heart back to our queen,” she had whispered. “Look to the needs of Queen Míriel, as will I. For I fear that she may be beyond cheering and, valiant though her heart is, she is without strength or joy.”

So young I was, so innocent of the world about me. To me, life was joy: the pursuit of knowledge, delight in creating, wandering this Blessed Realm in wonder at the gifts given to us. The visit of Queen Míriel altered my perceptions somewhat.

As the king’s party approached along the avenue of oaks and elms, dismounted from their horses and crossed the circular courtyard before our house, I had made to stand beside my mother near the door of the main hall, to await a formal introduction. My first sight of the king, at the head of the group, was of a tall, lithe figure, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, whose hair of silken black fell loose to his waist. Garbed was he in a tunic of white, embroidered with thread of silver and gold, that reached to mid-thigh, over pale grey trousers. His leather belt was embossed with silver and sapphires; grey leather boots were upon his feet and a plain silver circlet upon his brow. Never had I seen a lord I thought to be so dignified, so commanding. But it was his eyes - thoughtful, powerful grey-blue eyes - that drew my attention, so I noticed neither his entourage nor almost the lady at his side. Yet as the group entered the main door; no doubt did I have that lady was his queen, for it was to her those grey-blue eyes most frequently glanced, and with the light of love in their depths.

Though my mother had oft spoke to me of Míriel it was my first sight of her, also. Slender, and delicate of form for a Noldo was she, though most regal in demeanour and beautiful to behold. Her hair, confined in a net of small opals, was unusual in colour, like unto shimmering silver. The sapphire blue gown that she wore that day was overworked with elaborate silver designs amongst which were set further gems. And it was whispered by Failië, who stood behind me, that Míriel had made the designs herself! A queen she was, embroidering her own gowns! But then, there were never any who could compete with Míriel Þerendë in finesse of hand at embroidery.

Yet weary did Queen Míriel look. It seemed to me that her heart was heavy indeed. She stood at the side of her lord, speaking softly to all of those who greeted her. She smiled briefly, but most radiantly at my mother! But before my father had finished his introductions or could escort the king and queen to our great hall, she drew aside. Asking leave of her lord, then gesturing for her ladies to leave her be, she walked out of the entrance hall towards the gardens. My mother nodded to me, so it was that we both followed discreetly. Was it not what my mother had feared would come to pass?

We were not to speak with King Finwë at that time, nor hear the exchange concerning the progress of the gifts for Olwë, my mother and I. Neither were we to hear Finwë’s long account to my father of his pleasure in the fast growing skills of his beloved son, who had seemingly chosen not to accompany his parents on that particular visit.

(After the king had left, my father told us all that was said. He told us he had been apprehensive King Finwë would ask of him to oversee the instruction of his son, who, it appeared, was still proving challenging to Onónon. Though my father would have done whatever Finwë asked of him he was not overly enthused about having the strong willed, hot-tempered prince as an apprentice, no matter how promising he was.)

“You need not be concerned. I will but take a short rest here, for the fragrance of your garden is a pleasing tonic unto me.” The delicate enunciation of Míriel greeted us as we rounded the corner of the walled pleasance.

My mother made a curtsy gesturing for me to do likewise, but the queen waved that the gesture was unnecessary. She and my mother had been friends in their youth. It seemed she would have no unnecessary ceremony from Taurlotë.

Confident of their relationship, my mother spoke familiarly in response. “I am concerned for you, Míriel,” said she, taking a seat in the bower opposite our guest. “You have a steadfastness about you, but it is not a form that springs from true hope - only from resignation. I wish to be of assistance, if you will but so permit?”

Míriel smiled faintly. But then she fixed her brilliant eyes upon me that I could see of the stubborn strength within her fëa. Weak in body, consumed by giving birth to such a son, they said; yet as I watched her expressions, her movements, I saw how unassailable she was in spirit.

“There are none who can help me. What I desire must wait yet awhile,” she mused. Then, breaking the intensity of her gaze upon me, she turned again to address my mother. “So this is your daughter, Taurlotë?”

“Yes; forgive me, my queen. This is my daughter - Nerdanel.” My mother spoke with a pride that warmed me, bringing a smile to my face. I had nothing to be ashamed of, to be concerned for. Míriel was kindness itself. She smiled back at me in a thoughtful manner.

“Such rare colouring! Her hair is of a most unusual brown. It seems to have the odd streak of red lurking in its depths. I have not noticed such hair colour before,” she observed.

“Has that not oft been said of you, Míriel? Most rare is silver hair amongst the Noldor.”

“Unknown is copper-brown hair amongst the Eldar, save for your husband and his sister,” Míriel countered immediately.

My mother smiled at having drawn so swift a response. “Nerdanel has the colouring of her father, it is true, though of a far more muted tone. The glint of redness is only lit to flame in the full light of Laurelin.” She beckoned for me to sit next to her, and then raised a hand to stroke my hair as if it were something most precious to her. “That is not all she has inherited from Urundil. She has skill with stonework that makes him proud, though it is a little unusual in a wendë to have such interests.”

I coloured with emotion, as was my nature, at my mother’s words and I was concerned that the hue of my face was matching the red glints in my hair. Strong emotions were always hard for me to hide. One had but to look to my complexion to see what I felt in my heart. But, high lady though she was, Míriel did not seem to find this unbecoming. She appeared to behold me with ever more esteem.

“Your mother says she wishes to assist me. Do you also wish to be of help, little maid?”

There was the sound of sudden laughter, and we three turned abruptly to see what the commotion was about. But it was only the neri, crossing the courtyard to the forge. They would be examining the quality of the work done for Finwë, and we could be excused yet awhile.

“I will help, if I can, my queen!” I brought Míriel’s attention back to the moment.

“Ai, yes! Then there is something I would ask of you. Something that, with the skill your mother speaks of, you could do for me.”

“Willingly!” I had replied. Though little did I know to what that response would lead.

“Craft something for me - a sculpture, something from stone that I may admire. Make me something of life and of joy as you perceive it, and I will gift you in return.”

I was startled at the request, as well as at her generous offer of a gift. How could I make something fitting? Míriel was talented far beyond the likes of me. But I would not dishonour my father, or the skills he had taught me. So I curtseyed to her.

“That I shall do, my queen. I will start straight away.”

Míriel laughed openly, a sweetly musical sound that brought more animation to her face than I had previously seen. She was so very beautiful, I thought.

“Such eagerness in one so young! Wait at least until this visit is over. For will there not be feasting and singing and dancing to come?”

Putting a hand upon my shoulder, my mother spoke for and to me. “Indeed there shall be. And my daughter shall be part of it, though she would prefer to be making study, or out wandering in the hills.”

Míriel nodded thoughtfully, but there was a strange look in her eyes. “All to the good.” she whispered, and leant forward to me. “But life is for happiness with others, also. Do not shut yourself away, little maid. Now, you shall send me my gift as soon as you may. And it will be something to lift my heart; I have no doubt. My gift you may not have, I think, for a year or more. Though it will be something most precious,” she added enigmatically.

We took a stroll around the pleasance, through the formal garden, the rose garden and on to the orchard, across the stepping-stones that led to my favourite grotto. We spoke of other matters, of memories of childhood shared, of games and dances and festivals. Soon enough, we returned to join the main party. Finwë was to surprise his wife with a necklace that my father had forged in secret, on the king’s instructions. Sapphires and diamonds shone brilliantly in a setting of finely wrought silver, creating an illusion of stars in a darkened sky. Míriel smiled, thanking her lord most profusely, but she had again become weakened and her mind was elsewhere by then.

As the queen departed some time later, her eyes sought me out in the crowd of well-wishers. “Remember!” Her voice was like soft music in my ears. “Remember my gift, Nerdanel, and care for it well when you receive it. I shall not make its like twice.”

‘Embroidery!’ I had thought. ‘It will be a piece of magnificent embroidery that I may show in future times to my own descendents, as an example of the queen’s esteem for me.’

I never saw her again. Míriel died! And her gift? It was not embroidery.


- - - - - - -


Makalaurë – Maglor
Carnistir - Caranthir
Tyelkormo – Celegorm
Tyelpinquar - Celebrimbor
Arafinwë – Finarfin
Findaráto – Finrod
Findekáno – Fingon
Turukáno - Turgon
Anarië – Fingolfin’s wife
Maitimo – Maedhros
Curvo – Curufin
Ambarussa the younger - Amras
Moringotho – Morgoth
Finwion – Childhood name of Fëanor.
Aulenduri - Servants of Aulë
Nís / nissi – Adult she-Elf. / she-Elves
Hína - Child
wendë - girl, young she-Elf
neri -he-Elves
Þerendë – Serendë. See The Shibboleth of Fëanor HoME 10 for Fëanor’s insistence on using the original Þ rather than ‘s’.


Regarding Nerdanel’s hair colour: I can’t find an exact reference to her hair, though in ‘The Shibboleth of Fëanor’ The Peoples of Middle-Earth it says Carnistir had dark brown hair and the ruddy complexion of his mother. I assume from the manner in which this is expressed that she did not have dark brown hair. In The Shibboleth it also says that the first and last of Nerdanel’s children (Maitimo and the twins) had the reddish hair of her kin. (p353) (Not necessarily her!) Of her father, Urundil, it is said ‘ His hair was not as dark or black as was that of most of the Noldor, but brown, and had glints of coppery-red in it.’ (p336)


In ‘The problem of Ros’ The Peoples of Middle-Earth it says ‘…referring to red, red-brown hair of the first, sixth and seventh sons of Fëanor, descending to them from their maternal grandfather, father of Nerdanel, Fëanor’s wife, a great craftsman, devoted to Aulë.’. (p368)


There is the issue of the epessë given to Urundil of ‘rusco’, meaning ‘fox’, and, of course Russandol, ‘copper-top’ for Maitimo. The twins name, Ambarussa, is given as ‘top-russet’.


I have also been told that in the work ‘Vinya Tengwar: 41’ it is stated that Nerdanel has brown hair.


From all of this I am writing as if her hair is a medium brown with some red / copper glints in it. I am assuming that Maitimo and the younger of the twins have Urundil’s colouring. The elder twin is said to grow darker in hair colouring as he grows older. (p355)


Saying all this, I am no expert on Tolkien or on Quenya, so I could well be wrong.


Regarding Míriel’s hair colour, it says in ‘The Later Quenta Silmarillion’ Morgoth’s Ring, that her hair was like silver. It also says that Fëanor in childhood was like his mother in voice and countenance. In all the references I can find, Fëanor has raven-dark hair. Finwë is recorded in notes to ‘The Shibboleth of Fëanor’ as having black hair and brilliant grey-blue eyes.(p357)