To be well understood, this tale is required to strike out a greater arch and to wind up those events that occurred to that time that Alarcaryon and Anwára dwelt in Hithlum with the people of Finrod who was the son of Finarfin and Eärwen.
For to this time it was being told what the Ñoldor had done in Alqualondë and under what purpose they had laid such doom over themselves; not alone by Mandos' decree this was decided and Melian, who was the queen in Menegroth with Thingol knew of the judge's sentence
It occurred that Finarfin's sons would travel from time to time to Doriath, for they wanted to see their sister Galadriel. But Círdan was one of the first who had hearkened to the grim tale of the deeds of Fëanor and he decided that such words could only be born of guile and yet he deemed the Ñoldor themselves and the envy between their houses as source of it. The shipwright was sage and worried and he send messengers to Thingol and they spoke of everything that was heard. As then Finrod stood before the king, the lord of Doriath, so it was passed on in the tales of old, was moved with anger and he spoke to Finrod: »Evil have you done to me, half-kinsman to hide such great evil from me. For now I know of all the ill deeds of the Ñoldor.«
Finrod replied: »What evil have I done to you, my lord? And what have the Ñoldor done in evil in your entire realm that grieves you? Neither against you, the king, nor against one of your people have they done or deemed evil.«
There Thingol stood up. »I wonder about you, Eärwen's son«, he said. »Do you come to the house of your uncle with bloodied hands from the murder on the tribe of your mother and yet you speak naught of your defense, neither do you seek to be forgiven?«
Whatever Finrod thought this moment was not to be made known in this tale. It is known however that Eärwen's son fell quiet and he would speak no more before his uncle and before the rebuke that he had earned. It was his brother, Angrod, who spoke for him and he spoke true of the events at Alqualondë and how they followed as in mania the grim words of Fëanor and how they had to endure great wrong on the road themselves.
And after he said his last word in this matter, the queen Melian spoke: »And yet does Mandos' shadow also lie over you.«
Thingol was quiet, but as he raised then his voice, it was to make known a decree. »Go now!«, he said. »For ardent is my heart. Later you may return, if you wish, for I will you, my nephews, who were entangled in misery that you did not want, not forever denying my threshold. Also with Fingolfin and his folk I will hold friendship for as far as they carry guilt, they have bitterly repented. And forgotten may be our strife in the hate upon this might that has disturbed the peace. But hearken to me! Never again will the tongue sound in my ear of those who slew my folk in Alqualondë! And in my entire realm it shall not be loud again, as long as my reign endures. All of the Sindar will hear my decree, they will no longer speak in the tongue of the Ñoldor, nor will they answer to it. And all, who use it, shall be known as remorseless murderers and traitors of their kin.«
So did the sons of Finarfin pass from Menegroth and Doriath with heavy hearts. And it came as it was augured, and none of the Sindar would speak again the tongue of the Ñoldor and they all listened to Thingol's decree and who still made use of it, was avoided and the Banished Ones took up for their daily life the language of the Grey-Elves and the High-Tongue was forth on only spoken by the lords of the Ñoldor when they were alone among each other.
So does this tale take its turn to Alarcaryon. He was tall grown and dark hair crowned his head. As all Ñoldor he appeared high and in his eyes lay a sharp glimmer and a light, for he was one of those who had come over the ice and ere the trees Telperion and Laurelin had died, he had looked upon them and their essence had imbued him. To that time in which the trees had been shining still, Alarcaryon dwelt in Tirion, where he learned to craft, as it was that which his kin marveled on. His idol he found in Fëanor and in many aspects, Alarcaryon was similar to him.
Often he would work in solitude in his forge and from few he accepted any guidance or advice and when others insisted on pointing him to his mistakes, he dismissed them and his anger was then swiftly drawn when he found them to have been right; his work undone through his own doing.
Only one did Alarcaryon love more than the making of things and that was Anwára. The first time he laid eyes on her as he came into the house of Finarfin, for Anwára was a handmaiden there and she stood quiet and young in a corner and no one would look upon her, safe Alarcaryon. He marveled on her golden hair, so that he mistook her for one of the Vanyar who dwelt at the foot of Taniquetil and he was set in wonder. But that was, as he would find out, only half the truth, for Anwára's mother was a lady of the Ñoldor and her golden hair she had received from her father, who in fact belonged to the kin of Ingwë.
Now as Alarcaryon saw her there in the hall alone, he strode up to her and wordless he took her hand and together they went through the streets and gardens of Tirion and he would show her his craft, to which she would not reply, but only look at him in enchanted admiration. Anwára was ever a quiet child, but now she visited Alarcaryon often at his forge and no longer would he be angered and little of his craft went amiss in its making and even then he would not be drawn to ire. From her alone he accepted guidance and so did it occur that Alarcaryon and Anwára created many a thing together upon the anvil. One year later they would be wed.
But a shadow had laid itself on Aman. The light of the trees were strangely dimmed, for Melkor desired the Silmaril for his own and already the memory of their glimmer was gnawing like a fire in his heart. From this point of time on, it was his will to destroy Fëanor and to undo any friendship that bound the Valar and the Eldar; but clever did he conceal his intention and nothing of his guile was to be seen in his demeanor that he wore in his act. Often did Melkor find ears that would hearken to him and some tongues that increased the meaning of the heard and they spread it; and his lies went from friend to friend as secrets to be told to yet another. So did it also happen to Alarcaryon.
One day Melkor came to his forge and the craftsman welcomed him with good wine from his own house and long did they speak with one another and Alarcaryon would yet curse the day on which he had held his ears open to Melkor's ill words.
Melkor came not only once to Alarcaryon but three times more and every time that he arrived, Anwára left the forge and she would not regard the Vala with a single look. Instead, she would sit on the window and long she looked at Alarcaryon as he conversed. When the Vala was gone, the craftsman would at all times seek for Anwára and he would ask: »Why did you leave in such spite? Have you forgotten your manners? Has our guest ever done you or your kin evil?«
»You ask this truly, my love? Steel your mind, for you look through toned glass rather than I. The only difference between us is now that I can see what truly lies beyond the panel.«
Alarcaryon never truly understood what she meant this day, not until it was revealed what Melkor had truly intended.
Of what occurred at Alqualondë, this tale shall not tell, for it is an event too grievous to be told of again and who seeks answers to Fëanor's deeds, shall see to the account of the Vanyar in which all stands written.
It must be said however, that Alarcaryon had no partaking in it and he broke the sword that he had forged for the purpose alone to follow his king. Denying the order he returned to the house of Finarfin and there he met his wife and together they followed the Ñoldor that had not sailed with Fëanor, over the Grinding Ice and from there they passed into Hithlum where they long lingered, until Nargothrond was finished.
Thither they followed Finrod Felagund, for that was where Anwára's kin had gone. But Alarcaryon ever again looked with disdain to the north, where the realm of Thingol lay. His anger had risen over the ban that the king of Doriath had spoken out, robbing the Ñoldor of their exalted tongue and they were now forced to speak the Sindarin of that time, would they not want to count as traitors to their kin. Anwára could cool his ire, but Alarcaryon never quite lay down his grudge against Thingol and the Grey-Elves and this ardent fire would endure its burning still long after their daughter Tarnairë was born, extinguished only at the moment that he passed into the halls of Mandos.
