And so it ended.. I cannot stop my tears even I know that someday, somewhere in the far West we will all meet again.. Things happened so fast that it seems still not real to me. Stains of blood on the dress that is now thrown on a chair are sad proof it was not a bad dream..
I was just leaving the Hall of Fire with Isoldis that seemed to want to tell me something in private as we saw Veryacano escorting Daelith out of the house of Elrond. What was he doing there? He was supposed to stay hidden until we could defeat his demon and welcome him back as he once was. Where were they going? The mask Daelith was wearing draw attention as they walked north and many followed, especially those that were calling Vanimar home as the sight was strange enough for many to wish to stay out of the way of Veryacano and what seemed to be his prisoner even wearing the noble hauberk of the Order of Hammer.
In a foyer in the north of Rivendell, hidden from sight Tur Anglachelm was waiting. His words for Daelith were not kind. I blushed in anger hearing it all over again.. murderer, kinslayer.. That is the compassion some show to their kin, to those who once put their life in their service, to those who lost so much in a deed that could not be called evil as no evil intention dwelt the heart that is now broken?!
Veryacano was standing by Daelith and confirming his story. Anglachelm asked Daelith to remove his mask. The face so scared and marked by torment and despair seemed to have finaly move his heart as his tone was more compassionate when he sent Veryacano to find what healers and medicine Lord Elrond could send to the aid of Daelith.
The story was told, again.. Darnur’s death, the awakening of that evil Daelith was seeing and I could not understand, how this evil was haunting Reiven, how Daelith wanted to end this evil. I feared for Reiven but I knew whatever happened to Daelith did not change him so as to hurt her with intent.
Daelith repeated he knows how to stop this evil and asked all to follow. Anglachelm asked me to stand by Reiven and help her in case anything would overcome Daelith and he aimed to hurt her. I asked a moment to arm myself as I was wearing a evening dress, no armor or weapons. Cirdamir asked the same. I wished only a weapon in my hand in order to face the thing Daelith was to try to lure in our presence and I feared for Daelith as I guessed in Cirdamir’s demand the intend to use that blade against whatever was to threaten me, as he was also not allowing more than a few steps distance between us. Was not the kind of lack of trust poor Daelith needed but was no time to argue.
He lead us to a small cave near Rivendell, the one he used for shelter since we returned. He asked Riven to lay on a stone and tied her. I was standing by her, and the rest of Vanimarians that followed formed a circle by the wall of the cave. Whatever was to come was to meet many blades and steeled hearts. I shivered, was it fear or the cold of the cave felt trough the evening dress so inappropriate for the place? Daelith started a song, one he said he has learned from things unknown in the depths of Moria. He asked us to cover our ears but I did not. I wanted to be ready for anything not restrain my perception for stupid fears. The song shifted from Quenya to a speech that transpired evil from the very sounds. I could not retain from shivering but with one hand I was holding Reiven’s hand and one did not leave the hilt of my dagger. Reiven was so calm and tired as she did not care anymore what was to come. I felt pity for them both, none deserving such. I did not know her much but with her short black hair and white as snow skin she seemed so delicate and helpless.
The song stopped and the room seemed to freeze of a unknown evil almost tangible. Reiven gave a cry so painful and loud as one would not believe to come from such a delicate girl. Her strange little friend that followed us cried as Earilnin was holding her far from the improvised altar. A strange red fire started to burn in Daelith’s eyes while Reiven fainted. There was a struggle inside him but it was him there, not some demon or evil presence. He seemed even more master of himself then in the last weeks I did see him. As I guessed that thing was trying to get control of him I could only imagine the will he was putting to fight the thing he has lured within himself. And then suddenly he fell to the ground. I let go Reiven’s hand and approached him and so has Cirdamir. I did not have time to kneel by him to try to aid him that he was incredibly fast up to his feet and holding Cridamir’s blade. I yelled. The first words to remind him he is among friends and we can help froze on my lips as I understood was not us he would use the blade against. I remembered Veryacano’s words that he alone could get hold of Daelith and I understood fate was again against Daelith as Veryacano was not there. I knew what he intended and I tried to reach for the blade with my hands but I could not match him in force. The blade found his chest and he fell again to the ground, bleeding.
His last words were for the Tur: “I have always been your loyal servant... The evil of Morgoth will die through my sacrifice...” and a smile as beautiful as in the older days of no worry flourished on his lips and my heart broke as he looked at me one last time dieing, so at peace with himself that I could only see the old Daelith, no scared face or blooded garments. Anglachelm kneeled by him and closed his eyes whispering, for once not like a judge but as a friend: “Daelith... you... didn't need to” and for once I agreed with him.. but it was too late for trust or help or care for Daelith. Somewhere behind me Reiven woke up and someone untied her as she witnessed she felt free of the presence that haunted her for so long. Daelith has won and she was free of the demon, hopefully for good.
As Cirdamir and others took the body to take him back to Rivendell I gave Anglachelm the dark swan locket Daelith put in my hand when he first returned to Rivendell, the locket I hoped to give him back when he was himself again. It is now the Tur’s to give it back to his noble warrior or pass it to another worthy of it, as their tradition is for Daelith can only wear it in death now.
I could not bear the lament Tindir started to play when back to the halls of Rivendell. I left for my rooms and stayed in the dark till I remembered I forgot my bow in the cave. I returned alone. The place was deserted, the remains of the rope that tied Reiven and the blood on the stone floor the only proof this was not a bad dream. I kneeled by the place where he fell and I cried for long, knowing I failed. I failed to help one deserving it so much but who seemed to have all ill fate of this age against him.
I write this… what for? I look back to the pages filled with plans and hope. It seems there is something more powerful than us, against which nor friendship, or bravery or the noblest of hearts can fight. Namarie Daelith, Daelanthe in the language of old, loved like a son by Daenaro who you are now to join again. May you be at peace until we meet again..
