The Pentanath: Adventures in the Avathar
A Posthumous Writing of The Watcher of Tol Eressea
Chapter 30: Book 5 - Many Fates
by Sienna Dawn

As Haldir and Orophin looked up, the battle continued upon the shores of the Avathar. The great white cloud, now streaked through with silver bolts of lightning dropped closer to the ground, gaining speed and width as it moved. Upon the shore, oblivious to the threat above them, the shadow creatures pursued their attack upon the hapless elves of the Guild.

Abruptly, and with a great might, a bolt of white light poured from the cloud. It came silent and deadly, illuminating everything below as if it were bright midday. In this way, since the dawn of its creation, the first true light shone upon the Avathar.

The shadow creatures, aware now that something had changed, whirled and saw the giant cloud hanging above them. Fearing not the light, they turned back to their attack, indifferent to what the cloud portended, for they knew not the might and power of the Valar and their heralds.

The cloud continued to move toward the shadow creatures, and for the first time, the elves who had escaped attack and injury began to perceive that here was perhaps the answer to their desperate call. They had not long to wait, for in moments, the gentle sea breeze began to whip about them, growing in intensity and power. Still the shadow creatures perceived not their fate, so intent were they on the destruction of the Guild fleet and the elves still trapped upon the ships.

Now the wind began to keen a low wail, moaning and whispering to the ocean waves, whipping the waters into sharp shards and jets of sea spray that cut like the keenest blade. The storm that Ossë brought began to build slowly, a thing the shadow creatures failed to see, but something not altogether lost upon Haldir and Orophin, who still watched close to the shore.

The wind now pushed the ocean waves higher and higher. Whirls of sand began to appear, twirling about themselves, moving quickly toward the shadow creatures that pursued the elves upon the beach. The wind whipped back and forth, see-sawing in all directions, looking for a weakness in the creatures, one that it could press to its advantage.

As the wind now howled into near-hurricane strength, Haldir and Orophin stumbled from its intensity and turned to seek the cover of the jungle growth at the edge of the beach. Their intentions were circumvented when a full squadron of heavily armed elves poured out from the jungle and spilled onto the beach, their bows, knives and swords at the ready.

Haldir stopped running, and in the midst of the terrible storm, turned to watch.

He saw the elves of the Avathar join their kindred upon the beach, those whom the shadow creatures still hunted. Arrows flew and knives were hurled toward the creatures. All were useless and dropped forlornly upon the sandy beach. The creatures continued to press their attack. Abruptly, a terrible creaking noise rent the squall now coursing over the shores and Haldir looked toward its sound. His heart constricted in fear at the sight before him: a swan ship was buckling under the immense pressure of the creatures. He saw it hoisted high above the water, its rudders flailing helplessly. The creature held the swan ship suspended for a moment and then released it, letting it drop back to the sea with a sickening thud. And as the terrible murder of the elves trapped inside the ship became a reality, the storm attacked in its full fury and Haldir knew then that Ossë would unleash his terrible vengeance upon the monsters.

The winds shrieking now, the skies rent with brilliant lightning, and seas churning into white foam, a giant wave suddenly reared behind the creatures and crashed down upon them.

Instinctively, Haldir dropped to one knee, the gale force winds whipping about him, pushing into his body. It took all of his strength to fight the urge and pull of the wind and not be swept away with it. Yet, he held on, his head ducked tightly toward his chest, his hands flat upon the soft sand.

Haldir never saw the swift retribution of Ossë, though he imagined it must have been terrible indeed. He could hear the sound of crashing waves, and the shouts of elves, though he kept his face averted from gale winds that attacked the beach. He prayed the elves would be spared, though he realized that some were beyond hope and had probably already joined their ancestors in the Halls of Mandos. His thoughts flew to Orophin, whom he knew was still weak and he fought the wind and turned his head. His brother was safely within the jungle growth. The winds then began to subside and Haldir chanced a look toward the shore. All save two of the shadow creatures had disappeared beneath the blinding fury of the giant wave. The two that remained now sped toward shore, their intent only too clear: they meant to destroy the elves upon the beach.

Haldir stood rapidly, moving fluidly and in moments had reached a short, flat, broadsword that lay upon the sand. He reached for it, its grip feeling solid in his hand and he raced toward the creatures. From somewhere behind him, he was dimly aware of Orophin's voice calling out for him to remain.

Just as he was about to lunge the sword at one of the creatures, a sudden cut from behind him brought him up short. Searing pain jolted up his left arm and shoulder. Haldir knew he had been sliced but this did not deter him. He swiveled and parried, meeting the thrust of yet another cut with a thrust of his own. In his mind there was confusion, for when he faced his attacker he saw that it was another elf. He did not recognize his attacker, as he exchanged thrusts and parries with the dark-haired quende. Haldir was loath to shed the blood of his kindred, but he saw the intention upon the eyes of his enemy. He was fighting for his life.

In a sudden move, Haldir lunged and felt his sword make contact, as tender flesh yielded to the cold steel of the blade in his hand. His attacker doubled over and dropped to the ground, clutching his side. Haldir grimaced, though he knew he had only wounded the other elf. After a moment, he turned his face toward the shore and in his heart there was sorrow.

Not since the Kin-slaying had a quende raised his hand in violence against another elf, and yet this is what Haldir saw.

They battled one another, the Guild elves defending themselves against the attack of elves clad in black and brown.

~*~*~*~*~

Haldir braced his arm and held it close to his body as he sprinted toward the fighting elves, confusion in his mind, but determined to stop the senseless bloodshed.

"Cease! You must cease!" His voice rang out in the midst of the storm, drowned out by the rushing winds. As if in response to his called command, a cold rain began to pelt down upon the elves on the beach. Heavy droplets sooned turned into a steady white wall of rain, a steady downpour meant to slow the elves down. Instead, the squall only made the elves of the Avathar more determined to drive out their foe: the Guild elves who had come at the biding of the Valar. But the elves of the Avathar did not realize that they, like the Guild, battled a common foe and had in error assumed the Guild brought the shadow creatures forth.

Haldir raced toward a group of fighting elves. His arm and shoulder throbbed and he felt weakened by the loss of blood. Yet, he relentlessly pushed into the throng of fighting warriors, deftly deflecting the many cuts and parries aimed toward him, all the while shouting commands for hostilities to end. But Haldir's cries went unheeded and the battle continued. The injured and dying soon littered the beach, as the two remaining shadow creatures finally reached the shores of the Avathar.

All around him the shrieks and screams of the pitched battle upon the beach mingled with the keening of the wind. More than once Haldir deflected a parry and brought down an attacker through the sheer force of his own brute strength, a strength once legendary in ertswhile Lothlorien. It now served him well, for his wound was deep. Never did he strike an opponent with a fatal blow, but many did he bring down until his endurance began to wane.

The shadow creatures had positioned themselves at opposite ends of the beach and were closing in upon the fighting elves. Too late did the elves see the threat and great was the number of quendi taken into the creatures' darkness. Trapped inside the black folds of the creatures' shadow did they languish for anguished moments before their spirits fled from their broken bodies and onward to the Halls of Mandos.

Haldir stood and looked about him. A small group of elves bearing the black and brown colors of the Avathar still battled the remaining group of Guild elves. About him the once alabaster-colored sands of the Avathar had become stained red with the blood of injured and slain quendi. Haldir rubbed his face with the back of his hand, pushing his wet hair behind his face. His eyes flew heavenward, where he knew Ossë's storm clouds still lingered. Then he looked out beyond the beach, to the seas spread out before them. The waters had calmed somewhat, though the waves still threatened to overtake them should Ossë give the command.

The shadow creatures continued their attack, unimpeded in their approach. Haldir turned and looked upon one, as it steadily neared a small band of fighting elves. All about them lay the dead and in his heart Haldir knew hatred for the shadow that relentless pursued the goodness of the light. Why was it always thus, he silently anguished. Why was it happening again?

He turned, fluid and agile, even though his wound caused him great pain. His tunic was blood soaked, his hair matted against his head. Grains of sand clung to his eyes and he raised a bloody hand to wipe them.

Suddenly, from somewhere to Haldir's left a voice shouted and Haldir instantly recognized the elf who stubbornly called a command to attack the creature. He turned and saw the Guild elf at the head of a small band of Guild warriors, rushing to meet the creature which appproached them. Haldir knew they stood no chance of defeating the giant monster that loomed over them. He turned his eyes heavenward and sent out a silent plea for help.

Where it came from no one ever knew, and even the chroniclers of the time disagree about the exact course of events. A light shone forth, greater than any light ever seen in Aman since the creation of the world. It was a light made of pure and sheer power and might, more brilliant than the sun. Instantly the light destroyed the shadow creatures, for in its great luminosity no darkness could survive. The shadow monsters dissipated and dimmed, evaporating as dew evaporates in the early light of dawn.

The great light spread and covered the beach upon which the quendi had fought each other. Blinded, many dropped to their knees, while others stood, swords and knives in hand, covering their eyes with forearms. The light gave off no heat, but behind closed eyes, the elves were aware that after long moments it began to recede and it was then they slowly turned and looked. In a moment the light dimmed and once more the Avathar was draped in soft twilight. The winds returned to softly caress the faces of the elves and the skies sparkled with gentle starlight. If not for the tragic remnants of the pitched battle fought, none would have known that death and shadow had come to the Avathar. Bodies lay strewn about, the injured moaned and wailed softly, begging for help and an end to their pain. The pieces of mangled swan ships drifted onto shore and here and there the drowned began to float to the surface. The survivors turned slowly about, each ready once more to face their opponent. It was a single shouted warning that forced all to turn their eyes to shore, for there they beheld a thing none understood.

They saw a lone figure, standing with his back to the now-quiet seas. His silver hair shone beneath glittering starlight. His face was composed though stern, and upon his brow danced a row of brilliant stars. He was tall, with a proud and aristocratic stance. All recognized him at once though none called his name.

Orophin had long joined the Guild warriors and had been upon the beach when the shadow creatures had rushed forth upon them. He had seen the great light descend upon the shore and he had known its source, for he too was a herald of Nienna. Now, he took a cautious step toward his older brother. "Haldir?" Orophin asked softly.

But Haldir did not respond save to look upon his brother with a stern countenance. Instead, he walked slowly toward the stunned elves and looked upon the dead, injured and dying. Pointing to them with his blade, he spoke firmly. "Look to your brothers." With these words he walked past them, heading toward the foliage of the jungle overgrowth. His strides long and confident he disappeared into the jungle. Behind him, the elves made an uneasy truce and began the task of tending to the injured.

Orophin stood a moment longer than necessary, waiting for what he knew not, realizing that perhaps upon that moment he had witnessed his brother's true fate. For the first time in his long life he feared for Haldir.

~*~*~*~*~

"Celevon!" Niel protested and laughed, untangling her long hair from the child's hand. This day she and Lisse had taken the infant to the beaches, long after sunset. They had watched the moon rise over the Shadowy Sea, a soft and cool breeze drifting toward the beach.

Lisse smiled a sad smile and looked at her son, now so much like his father. She watched him play upon the sand, and then lifted her eyes to the calm sea. She wondered where he was. She wondered if he ever thought of her. Reaching out a slender hand, she caressed her son's long silver hair.

Niel watched her niece in silence. Over a year now. A year and no word. All that was known were the rumored stories brought to them from the silma merchants who toiled near Alqualondë. If they were to be believed, then the Guild had sailed to the Avathar. Yet, Niel thought, why would Orophin not send word? She sighed unawares and turned her eyes to the sea.

"Had I but known..." Lisse began, only to be cut off by Niel.

"Had you but known what?" Niel asked crossly, giving Lisse a hard stare. "No one can say what the future holds, Lisse, and I wonder how long you could have resisted your heart." She stood and dusted the grains of sand from her blue leggings, "Do not be so quick to gainsay my choice in the matter!" Her voice uncharacteristically rose and she bent down to scoop the baby.

"Come," Niel said in a more reasonable voice, "your son hungers for his sustenance and you have yet to fully recover your strength. She walked away and stopped, realizing that Lisse had not followed. "Come you, niece?" Celevon began to play with Niel's long tresses, twirling a lock around a small hand.

"Nay," Lisse responded slowly, her voice distant. "I shall sit for yet a while and watch."

"Then watch not too long, Lisse Nyere, and come to your supper and your son." Niel turned and began to climb a gentle slope that led to Guve Hall. In moments she had forgotten Lisse Nyere and laughed as Celevon tried to imitate the words she sought to teach him.

Back on the beach Lisse looked upon the still waters of the sea. Gently and calmly, in an ancient rhythm, the waves lapped and kissed the shore. Softly its sound lulled Lisse and she closed her eyes, lying down upon the sand, letting the breeze play with her hair. In her heart there was sadness. How sorely she missed Haldir. How she longed to rest her eyes upon his beloved figure once more; reach out to touch his silken hair; hear his golden voice hush whispered words of love and desire. She sighed and turned on her side, opening her eyes and looking upon the dark waters. Suddenly, as she watched, away, in the distant horizon, a great light flared. Lisse frowned and concentrated upon it. Once more, barely discernible, a light flared and then dimmned. Curious, Lisse sat up and stood, intently watching the horizon. Her keen hearing caught a sound she had never heard before. A curious sound, one of great distress, as if the ocean itself was weeping. She walked toward the shore and abruptly stopped.

The beach did not feel right. The ocean did not feel right.

She turned toward the direction of Guve Hall. "Something is amiss," she said to herself. Her blue eyes swept up and down the beach and toward the sea. "But I do not know what."

Lisse bent down to pick up a handful of sand. Absent-mindedly she let the fine grains slip through her fingers. Then she looked down upon the sand. Stooping down she scooped some more upon her hand. Frowning she brought the handful of sand to her nose and inhaled cautiously.

Lisse's eyes widened in amazement. "Elanor!" She exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. She let the sand fall away from her hand and stood again, watching the sea once more. The sand, she thought, it was scented with elanor. But why and what did it mean?

Lisse looked out to sea. "How can that be?" Her voice was but a whisper. Once again, in the distant horizon came another flare of light. It was then that she heard a gentle voice speak into her mind and she stilled.

"Wait for him." Was all it said.

~*~*~*~*~

Haldir strode into the jungle, away from the beach. His intention was to seek and find Eadendir, whom he squarely blamed for the carnage that had stained the shores of the Avathar.

He walked quickly, the broadsword he had used now tucked within his leggings. His shoulder and arm throbbed mercilessly and he knew he had lost a great deal of blood. Yet, his mind was set upon one goal and no other factors could be considered. His eyes blazed with determination and his face was stern and commanding.

A long while later, a small clearing announced Haldir was reaching the boundaries of the city where the elves of the Avathar dwelled.

Haldir walked past the tall and now unguarded gate which was usually kept locked. With confident strides he walked down a winding, cobbled avenue, which was gracefully lined with flowering trees and bushes. Dotted along the winding path were the lodges of the elves of the Avathar. But now they were cold and dark, and Haldir knew this was because the elves had long fled their city, seeking refuge and harbor where he knew not.

But Haldir was determined to find out where the rest of these elves were hiding, for there he knew would Eadendir also be.

A dark lane branched off from the cobbled path he travelled and his quick eyes darted to its shadow-shapes. A figure detached itself from a single tree, moving away from its wide trunk and waited for him to approach. Training his eyes upon the figure Haldir frowned. He could easily see that the figure was female, though she wrapped a cloak about her form and concealed her features beneath a low hood. He stopped and waited.

"Come with me for I well know what you seek!" The voice that spoke was soft and unhurried and Haldir felt long-buried memories stir to life. He trained his keen eyes upon the figure in the darkness and changed his direction. Slowly he approached the female, who still remained hidden by the darkness.

"How can you know what it is I seek?" He asked cautiously. Much treachery and deception he had already witnessed and he was not so certain this elleth came in peace. Slowly he reached into his leggings, feeling for his broadsword.

"You will not need your weapon, Haldir o Lorien." Came the voice suddenly.

Haldir stiffened at once, recognizing the voice, but refusing to acknowledge what was before him. Instead he checked his steps and stared hard at the figure in shadow.

"Who are you?" Haldir demanded imperiously.

The figure stepped away from the shadow and into the light of the stars, though she did not respond.

Haldir stared, disbelieving his own eyes, commanding his heart to cease its thuddering. Though he already knew, he asked again, because he needed the confirmation to come from her own lips. "Who are you?" His voice sounded strange to his ears. Harsh and abrupt.

"You know the answer already." The cloaked figure answered softly. Reaching up she lowered her hood away from her face, exposing her features to the light of the stars.

Haldir controlled himself. Years of fighting had taught him to reveal little emotion. His face was an unreadable mask and his eyes were veiled. It was only in the tilt of his head that any reaction was visible.

He looked at Min for a moment before speaking. When he spoke his voice was measured, balanced and perhaps a trifle cold. "I could not be certain," he began, watching her reaction to his presence. Like him, she revealed little emotion. She had changed. Or rather, he corrected himself, she had evolved beyond him. He frowned, watching her, remembering. "I was never certain, though I suspected, of course." His voice was cold and regal. He had reverted to the Marchwarden of old.

Despite her misgivings, Min smiled. She had expected this reaction. In fact, she had counted upon it, for it would most likely save them all. "Yet, you never spoke of it."

Haldir looked closely upon Min. "There is no time for this." He walked closer to her and was at once struck by her scent. It was both familiar and haunting. His heart knew confusion and uncertainty in that one moment and this was replaced by guilt. His voice reflected his emotional distress and he said somewhat harshly, "Where is your father, Min?"

Min turned and wrapped the cloak about her body tightly, dropping the hood over her face once more. She began to walk further into the darkness of the lonely path and silently Haldir followed.

Further into the darkened path Min led Haldir and soon the smooth cobblestones gave way to a rough and unhewn rocky road. The low branches of the trees at the edge of the road entwined in a silent embrace, forming a natural canopy over the dark road. Its effect was not lost upon Haldir. This was a menacing and imposing place. A road not often travelled and if so, only by those who knew where it may be found.

Silently, Min led Haldir further into the darkness, and the road became harder to navigate, branches and twigs now hanging so low to the ground that travel became difficult. Efficiently Min parted the branches before her, showing Haldir the way, and he realized with a start that she was very familiar with the treacherous path. He wondered, watching her walk ahead of him, how often she had trod this road, and for what purpose. Like him, Min had been released from Mandos' Halls for a purpose, and he now realized all of the elves of the Avathar had as well. But what was the purpose for their return to life? Rarely did the grave Mandos release a quende from the glittering halls where the dead waited.

In the middle of this reverie, Haldir saw Min halt and turn to him.

"Listen, well, Haldir o Lorien," she began hurriedly, looking ahead of her before turning her bright green gaze upon Haldir's face. "Many enemies does my father have. Measure your words well and say naught of your mission to this place, nor who you are, for none shall believe you."

Haldir frowned. "You father well knows who I am and whom I serve, Min." Haldir responded, "This is not the time for warnings or pleas for mercy, for that time has long passed." His silver eyes were icy as they beheld her.

Min turned and faced Haldir fully. "I do not ask for mercy, Haldir!" She exclaimed, "but if you wish to defeat all of what my father stands for, and has wrought upon this land, then you will heed and measure well your words. None save Manwë do these elves know and little do they remember of their past lives, their homes and families."

"And how is it that you remember so well?" Haldir countered.

Min considered for a moment and then replied, "I was forced to remember, Haldir." Her voice was soft and tinged with sadness. "I had to remember."

Haldir looked beyond Min, not wishing to venture toward the dangerous course this conversation was taking and instead asked, "How much further?"

Min looked toward the thick growth of branches. "Not far, perhaps another half a league. Soon, we will be stopped." She looked at Haldir once before setting off again, "do not resist them."

Haldir did not respond and silently followed Min into the dark undergrowth.

Nearly half a league later, as Min had predicted, they were intercepted by a band of elves, heavily armed and wary of Haldir's presence. In rapid Quenya, Min explained his need to see Eadendir and briefly described the carnage upon the shores of the Avathar. This had surprised Haldir for her accurate description of the battle was testimony to the fact that she had been present at the battle and had witnessed it all. Warily the warriors allowed them entry and one was selected to lead them forth toward their camp.

Haldir walked carefully, burning into his memory every turn, branch and tree, in case he should need to return. They had not walked long, when the sound of a gurgling brook reached Haldir's keen ears and then the sweet scent of fresh water assailed his nostrils. Bittersweet memories of his days spent at the River Gliding came unbidden and he allowed himself a moment of yearning before he squashed the thoughts away. He needed to be alert and not foolishly moping for Lisse.

Lisse, he thought. Lisse....He breathed deeply the scent of the fresh water and looked ahead of him as their escort parted a heavy branch. A gurgling brook appeared, and this was spanned by a thin stone bridge. Two armed sentries stood as lonely sentinnels. Acknowledging the sentries, their escort stepped onto the bridge, followed quickly by Min and then Haldir. Haldir noticed the sentries at the foot of the bridge eyed him with open suspicion but allowed him to pass undeterred. He glanced down at the water and its scent brought him memories of Lisse.

Suddenly, a sharp pain brough Haldir back to reality. He winced but he did not reach for the wound. He did not wish the others to know he had sustained injury. Silently they crossed the bridge and at the other end once more disappeared into the thick growth of branches and entwined tree limbs.

Docilely Haldir followed, marking each turn and tree into his memory. Then, without warning the trees receded and a great valley opened before them. Far in the distance a majestic mountain loomed, its peak tipped with snow. The mountain itself was thickly carpeted with trees of all sorts, mellyrn to evergreens, lindes and more. The silent elf guided them down a well trod trail and they came to a large lodge, a house of two stories and here were they taken.

Once inside Haldir realized the place had been fashioned in a hurry for it held little in the way of decoration. In fact, it reminded him of the great lodges of Rohan, which were only made the more palatable by the rich carpets and rugs thrown upon their earthen floors and the well-crafted furniture of which the Atani were so fond. A great fire roared within a grey and silver marbled fireplace, one which Haldir recognized. It was the great fireplace of the House of the Elms. He looked around more carefully now and recognized many items which had once graced not only the House of the Elms, but Guve Hall as well. His silver eyes came to rest upon Min, who watched him carefully. Yet, he said nothing and waited alongside her.

In a moment a group of elves entered the lodge and Haldir turned to observe them. They were different, these elves, for their hair was the same color as his own and in their eyes there was the light of the Valar. Recognizing them, Haldir frowned. He watched them approach the giant fireplace, warm their hands over the flames of the fire and then turn to face both him and Min. One detached himself from the group and motioned to Haldir. He moved with agility and fluidity, as if he walked on air. Unlike the other elves of the Avathar, these quendi were wholly dressed in white.

"Hail and well met, brother," the elf began companionably, his voice silken, melodious. "What brings thee hence to Vinyanorë?"

Haldir was surprised by the elf's mild demeanor. He studied the bright elf before him. Tall and fair of face, ageless and timeless, like the Valar, of a beauty and purity not often found among the quendi. This was one of the Fair Elves, the Elves of the Light, the highest and wisest of all the quendi, whose hearts and spirits had never been stained by the poison of Melkor. They figured not at all in the history of Middle Earth and their king, Ingwë, dwelled in the Taniquetil, beneath the mansions of Manwë.

Suddenly Haldir was at a loss for words. How and why had the Fair Elves come to the shadowland that was the Avathar? He chanced a look at Min and suddenly undertood her words of before. He had to measure his words carefully. The Vanyar possessed a great power and were allied to the Valar. He sensed no treachery in the Vanyarin before him and so he answered truthfully. He saw the others by the fireplace watch him carefully.

Softening his features somewhat Haldir answered in a clear and confident voice, "I am come at the behest of Varda, Queen of the Stars, to do her bidding and bring one who has defiled this land unto the justice of the Lords of the West."

The Vanyarin elf frowned slightly and turned toward his friends. They in turn distanced themselves from the great fireplace and came closer to their companion. One crossed his arms and spoke. Like the first Vanyarin elf, his voice was gentle and musical, "There is no one here who fits this description. Surely you are mistaken."

Haldir looked at the elf who had spoken and shook his head. "Nay," he answered, "there is no mistake. Long have the Valar watched this land."

The first Vanyarin elf spoke again, "Well we know this, for long have we tended Cala-tintallë, Star-kindler of this land. It is at the bidding of Elbereth herself that we are here come."

Haldir stood rooted, stunned at this revelation. Varda herself had sent him long ago to plant the seed of Cala-tintallë, when the Avathar was still wrapped in shadow and mist. Now, had the Vanyar come to bring their light and purity to this land. Suddenly he understood what was truly at stake.

"I serve her whom you do call Elbereth, spouse of Manwë and beneath whose halls your king still dwells." Haldir said, watching the faces of the Vanyarin elves transform into happy smiles.

"Then welcome are you, friend and brother," suddenly one said, "for we have a common goal."

Haldir looked upon the shinning faces of the Vanyarin elves and then at Min.

~*~*~*~*~

For weeks had Lisse come to the shores of the Shadowy Sea, where she had first glimpsed the great flare of light beyond the horizon. Still the soft sand held the scent of elanor, though the voice never spoke to her again.

She brought Celevon with her often, running with him beneath the warm sun or the glittering stars, telling him the stories of Middle Earth that Haldir and Orophin had taught her. She knew Celevon was too young to understand her, but the telling of the old tales gave her comfort and brought her peace and tranquility. Somehow, in the telling of these stories, she felt closer to Haldir and to this feeling she desperately clung.

The days melted one into the other and her heart mourned more with each passing day. Her constant joy was her son, who was growing strong, hale and happy, safe and secure in her love and Niel's gentle care.

One day the news came to them that the House of the Elms had burned to its foundation. Lisse listened as the old sailor told the story and in this fashion they learned the ancient house had been struck by one single bolt of lightning which struck on a clear and cloudless day. She knew, without asking any questions, why the House had been destroyed. One look at Niel's blanched face told Lisse that her aunt too understood the silent warning sent by the Valar. It was only after the old sailor had left that Niel ventured a comment.

"Think you what I think?" She asked Lisse.

Lisse pursed her lips and looked upon Celevon. "I do."

"Then Eadendir must still live." Niel had walked to a window and had opened it, letting in tangy ocean air.

"Aye," Lisse answered, gathering her son to her bosom, offering him a breast engorged with milk. "And they are watching."

Niel sighed, watching Celevon greedily suckle upon his mother's breast. "It is the waiting and not knowing that has become so difficult to bear." She saw Lisse lift her eyes toward the open window and knew what it was she thought. Turning, Niel also looked out upon the ocean beyond the house and sent her beloved Orophin a silent message of hope and love. She sighed. "It is for your babe that we must endure, Lisse. He is the hope that will keep us alive." Niel dropped her eyes onto her nephew and then looked upon the ocean again. She wondered if she would ever see Orophin again.

~*~*~*~*~

Key:

quendi - Elves (plural); quende singular

elleth - Female elf

Kinslaying - The first slaying of an elf by another elf, when the followers of Feanor (the maker of the Silmarils) attacked the Teleri in Alqualondë, rebelled against the Valar and led a great portion of the elves into Middle Earth in pursuit of Melkor and the Silmarils.

Vanyar - The Light Elves, or the Fair Elves (a term that refers to the white-silver color of their hair, a trait shared by Galadriel, Celeborn and many of the Galadhrim or 'fair-haired' elves.) The Vanyar were the first group of elves to come to Valinor and once they left Middle Earth did not return, thus their story does not figure in the history of Middle Earth. Considered the greatest and highest of all the High Elves.

Vinyanorë - The name the elves of the Avathar give their home.

~*~*~*~*~

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Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.
Painting is taken from John William Waterhouse's "Miranda", 1875.

Graphics copyrighted Cari Buziak