The Fire and the Sea.

Part three of three.

This is the last part of this particular story. As I read through it I am struck by it not sounding as good as I would wish. I will probably re-edit it again in the future, but for now it will have to stand as it is. I am just too busy to change it again, and really need to be making progress with other parts of the story - and with study. Sorry! :(

The Fire and the Sea.


Urundil had made the ridge and was looking for the quickest way to the promontory Nerdanel now stood upon. Calling still, he believed she was beside herself with grief, over the revelations of Eärendil. “Gaerion; by the Valar, think of what she said of late. If you know aught of what has brought this mood back upon her, then tell me!”

There was nothing for it but to speak the truth. Gaerion also saw the lone nís, and fear struck him that she would cast herself into the sea. Never had he thought his words would drive her to such an action. Never had he thought she would suffer so much despair.

“I called her my heart’s-love. I said that I wanted to be with her.” It had to be that, at least in part. But did he not have to speak the rest of it also? “One thing did she ask of me, and that would I not give her. She asked me to forgive her sons.”

Ignoble did his refusal sound now he had spoken it aloud. Not at all did he appear to himself as he had imagined, when he had pondered on asking her to end her marriage for him. A wave of guilt swept him that he had not realised he had failed her, even as Fëanáro had failed her. Little different was he to her lord of old, for he also had put vengeance and hate before love.

Urundil halted momentarily to glare at him. “We knew your feelings. Why did you not speak with us first? We could have told you, my Lady Taurlotë would have told you. Fast bound was our daughter’s heart to the son of Finwë in life, and fast bound in death, it seems! She will not love another as she loved him; not even you of whom she is most fond.”

“Most dear art thou to me, Son of the Sea, did she say,” Gaerion whispered, almost in shame.

The Noldo did not reply, neither did he mention her sons; but his expression said all that Gaerion dreaded.

They had halted some way back from where she still stood, but it was as if she knew not they were there. No move did she make as she stared out across the wide sea.

“Let me have a moment, Lord Urundil. Let me speak with her that, mayhap I can undo what harm I have done!”

Though he was asking the smith to trust him with his daughter’s life, yet did Gaerion believe it was the only way.

“Nerdanel! Come away from the edge. Come home with me, and to those others who love and care for you,” Urundil called. But then seeing no reaction, he nodded to the Teler. " Do what you can, but with care.”

Slowly - so slowly did Gaerion walk forward. He unclasped his cloak as he moved and let it drop to the grass, for it would but hinder him if it were needful to make that jump after her, to attempt to pull her from the waves.

“If you have no love of life left, if all is but weariness and pain then step forward, and know that I will follow to save you if I can. Or if it is my presence, my ill-considered words that so torment you, then can I leave these shores with the fleet that carries the armies hence and return not to Aman, but to Tol Eressëa alone.”

He thought she must have heard him, for a small smile touched her lips. But it was not he she was thinking of.

“Finwion," she whispered in nigh soundless longing - as if recalling something spoken in ages past, something he had said to her. In but an instant her smile was replaced by a look of profound sadness. Her tone, as she responded to Gaerion’s words, was soft and clear.

“I am sorry, my friend. For I see now that I have given you false hope over these years; that I have hurt you as I would never have chosen to do.” She turned to face him, though made no move to depart the wildness about her.

“Fëanáro used to say that there are many kinds of love: that which he had for his father was one kind, for the works of his hands was another, and for his sons and I, yet others still. Not all were of equal value to him, neither were all equal at any given time. But he did love all!” She paused, grey eyes softening their focus, as she remembered further. “And he loved his mother, whom Finwë condemned to remain in the Halls of Awaiting through his second marriage. Whatever is decreed, never will I so condemn my husband! Though there was I time when I sought to be parted from him, now do I know my own folly. Never will I seek the unmaking of our union.”

Gaerion understood what she was saying. He knew the issues involved. It appeared to him that Nerdanel was again lost in some thought or memory for a moment more. So he waited. Always had he waited, but this time he knew what was to follow.

After a few moments, she sighed. “ I love thee Gaerion; I love thee well! But as a friend, as a brother, even. Thou art truly most dear to me. Yet I should not have so spoken. For to one only do I give my heart’s love; and thou art not he.”

The words hurt, though not with the intensity they once would have, for he understood. He had paused upon the cliff top, knowing in that moment that there was no real danger to her and that she had no intention of ending her life. She was there to think, to remember, and in that to be closer again to those she so missed. He knew that she was offering him the only form of love she could - as a friend. And if she could live her life without the one she most longed for, then so could he.

“Truly do you speak, lady. But I am more like him than I had thought. For I have lived these years with hate for my father’s murderer, and know that I would have become a murderer given the chance.”

She gazed at him directly for the first time that day, a look of compassion lighting her features.

“You would have slain Makalaurë!” she stated, though without any accusation. “You would have slain my son in vengeance. So do you see, in part, my reason for asking you to forgive?”

“Aye, my ‘everfriend’. I see most clearly.” He smiled at his own foolishness and held out a hand to her. Then at last did she walk away from the edge, towards him, taking hold of his proffered hand as she had done in her childhood. As it had been when they had played upon the shores and he had helped her across the rock pools, did it suddenly seem. But Gaerion knew those days were forever lost - save to his memory.

“And do I not know what the grief at having one of your family slain, and that one your father, can do? So I retract my request. That there is understanding between us is enough, Gaerion.”

“It is not enough!” he interrupted “I shall seek your sons in the Hither Lands for their own sake, and for mine. Though of now I cannot conceive of entreating for any of them to the Valar, yet do I hope in time, I will change.”

She took up both of his hands to her lips, her face lit with a rare beauty and her complexion flushed with warmth. “Of noble and generous heart art thou, my friend.”

Seeing what had transpired, Urundil moved to stand with them. The unexpected words of the Teler echoed in his heart and struck at his own need for vengeance, as he thankfully embraced his daughter.

“Atar! Sorry am I to have concerned you, and to have been not about my work,” she said “But I needed to be away with my own thoughts for a short time. These words of late from the Hither Lands, they weigh heavily upon me.”

“Yendë! I feared for you, for your well-being!” Urundil released her from his grasp. “I feared that this latest revelation from Eärendil had pained your mind so much that, in despair you sought to cast yourself into the sea.”

“Nay, father! Better than that should you know me! No honour is there to so do if one is in their right mind. And at least one of the House of Fëanáro will ever seek to behave in a manner that is pleasing to the Valar, and to Eru Ilúvatar.”

So a sense of joy in life touched both neri, that she who they cared so much for was yet undaunted. Back to the horses they walked, in a new mood of relief.

“And I do not despair, father.” Nerdanel had that slight smile upon her lips again, as if she knew something that hitherto, she had not. Gaerion made to help her mount and she nodded to him graciously, accepting his offer.

“There is still hope! While I think that Makalaurë will not return from the Hither Lands for some time, yet does Maitimo also live.”

The Noldo smith and Teler walked forwards at the side of her mare, making to that place where they had left their own horses. They did not notice the strange look that momentarily lit her features.

“We know not all. There are some things hidden even from the Valar in the will of Iluvatar. Aye; and even should Maitimo perish, is there hope!”


- - - - -


Urundil - Sarmo Urundil / Mahtan. Nerdanel’s father.
Aulenduri - Servants of Aulë
Aldëaosto – Tree-shadowed town, I think.
fëa - spirit
Turukáno - Turgon
Arafinwë - Finarfin
Ambarussa the elder - Amrod
Maitimo - Maedhros
Makalaurë - Maglor
Moringotho - Morgoth
Nolofinwë - Fingolfin
Yendë - daughter

(1) ‘Of the Flight of the Noldor’ The Silmarillion. JRR Tolkien. HarperCollins Ed. p 91

Notes on the marriages of the sons of Fëanor. In a footnote to 'Of Dwarves and Men' in 'The people's of Middle-Earth', (HoME 12), it says that Maedros appears to have been unwedded, also the two youngest. Celegorm also, since he plotted to take Lúthien as wife. But Curufin was wedded (though his wife did not go into exile with him). Others that were wedded were Maelor (Maglor), Caranthir. p318 HarperCollins) I realise this is a very obscure reference.


I sometimes switch between the polite ‘you’ form of address and the more familiar – or affectionate –‘thou’ according to the situation between the speakers. ( Notes 5 and 19 ‘Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth’ Morgoth’s Ring J.R.R. Tolkien.)