Library: Of Nargothrond

Here follows the description of a book which may be found in certain libraries. The author is given as “Mornariel, elf of Nargothrond, daughter of Ondotano and Felyamírë”. The foreword includes a brief description of the author and her situation - a young elf who had accompanied her father to the Elf-Haven of Brithombar, fled with him from its sack, and remained in the safety of the Mouths of Sirion and the Isle of Balar while Nargothrond too was attacked and destroyed. The introduction explains that this text’s composition was begun at Brithombar, and it was later completed at the Mouths of Sirion. While it was written very long ago, the edition in Elrond’s Library is more recent, with a date that indicates it was last copied onto new parchment 400 years ago. The handwriting is very neat. Copies of this text by itself can be found in Mithlond, Duillond, Imladris, and Lórien – and it can also be found bound with other writings concerning the lost kingdoms of Beleriand. The crumbled remnants of the original text are in Mithlond. This text is a large one, and very diverse in its contents. It begins with information of a more statistical, numerical nature, including information about the population (how many elves there were, their ages, their occupations, and so on) as well as the surrounding lands and the underground realm itself. While the author is keen to detail as much solid fact as she can about the use of the land and realm – how the terrain was used, where food and building-materials were found, the methods and materials used in the building of the great city – it is clear that her mind is not only factual. Amidst the numbers and dry facts are lyrical descriptions infused with a wistfulness and sorrow that denotes the great love the author held for the realm of Finrod, some of which are accompanied by sketches. Once the plain facts have been given, and supplemented with prose, the text becomes more fragmentary in focus. The evocative prose style remains, but instead of describing the lands and stronghold, the author’s attention turns to more personal things – customs among the people, anecdotes recalling friends and family (and indeed, events of great import, which are also recorded in far grander histories), old songs once sung by many voices in the caverns that are now remembered with sadness. Each character and event is delineated with great affection and an obsessive attention to detail, as though the author is desperately trying to preserve everything that Nargothrond ever was. In fact, that impression becomes more and more prevalent as the text continues – in the later section written at the Mouths of Sirion, when the author met those of Nargothrond who had escaped to Doriath and thence to Sirion, the text is dominated by transcripts of the memories recounted by other displaced Nargothrondrim. In this section also can be found the history of Nargothrond’s founding in its fullness – how the caves were once the home of the Petty-dwarves; how Finrod Felagund was struck by the wonder of the Menegroth and was advised by Thingol to seek the Caverns of Narog; how he enlisted the help of the Dwarves of Ered Luin to aid his own stone-wrights in turning these deep caverns into grand mansions; how he paid them with the great wealth of Tirion and how they in return gave him the Nauglamir. This history is clearly not one through which the author lived; but the information was passed to her, and so she preserves it. Following this story of Nargothrond’s birth, written with a sense of grandeur, is the painful story of its fall. Again drawn from those who escaped, there is a reconstruction of the sack itself, in as much completeness as could be derived at the time. The author adopts a more clipped, factual style for this topic – but the shortness of the phrasing speaks of grief just as well as outright lamentation could have done, for it is clear that the author finds the subject difficult to dwell upon. The final pages of the text are personal once more – few words save of thanks, but sketches of those who have been brave and kind enough to share their stories with the author. They are mostly portraits, but there is one page that shows a group of them sitting and lying upon the shore and gazing out upon the sea, as though it is only across the waves that they will now find peace.