"A king there was in days of old:
ere Men yet walked upon the mould
his power was reared in caverns' shade,
his hand was over glen and glade.
Of leaves his crown, his mantle green,
his silver lances long and keen;
the starlight in his shield was caught,
ere moon was made or sun was wrought..." [1]
Teithoron Tegilbor set aside the scroll from which he was reading aloud. His young charge was sitting cross-legged on the floor before the hearth in the scribe's chamber, his chin resting upon his small hands and his eyes gazing deeply into the red glowing embers of the dying fire; but while Legelion was listening to his words and his bare toes were tapping along with the cadence of the lay, the scribe could sense that the boy's mind was elsewhere.
'Whither does your thought wander, child?' he asked, but not unkindly.
'My apologies, Teithoron... I was listening to your reading, truly, but then I wondered...' the Elf-child hesitated, thinking his question might be impertinent.
The King's scribe waved an elegant hand, gesturing for him to continue.
'I wondered that you speak little of your days lived in Menegroth,' Legelion said. 'Do you not now remember them?'
'You forget the long memory of our kindred,' Teithoron replied laughing. 'I well remember them.'
'Indeed you speak truly! For my memory is but thirteen years long, and I know not how far in the past an Elf might yet recall his life. But forgive me... perhaps it is too painful for you to talk of those days aforetime; for Echeleb my father's father has told me the tale of the Silmaril that the Man Beren Erchamion and Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of King Thingol, recovered from the crown of Morgoth, and the sad fall of Doriath thereafter.'
'Ah, Lúthien,' Teithoron sighed, and closing his eyes he quoth:
"Her robe was blue as summer skies,
but grey as evening were her eyes;
'twas sewn with golden lilies fair,
but dark as shadow was her hair." [2]
Looking again upon Legelion he said, 'Yes, my heart yet grieves for the loss of Elu Thingol's realm, and the slaying of the lord and the departing of Melian the Maia, his beloved wife and Queen of Doriath. And I mourn also for Dior Eluchíl the Fair, their son, and Nimloth his wife and Eluréd and Elurín their children.'
'It is true then that the twins were left alone to die in the forest?'
'Nothing certain is known of their fate, but some say that the birds aided them and led them to Ossiriand [3]; but I deem they indeed perished from hunger.'
The boy shivered despite the fire's warmth. 'What a cruel way to die,' he said, 'but they were born in Lindon, were they not? Had they no woodcraft? I know they were but six years old, but when I was of equal age I yet knew how to forage for forest fare.'
'Alas, they did not.' Teithoron replied. 'For Dior Eluchíl took up Elu Thingol's crown when they were but three years old, and they dwelt in Menegroth thereafter; rarely did they leave the safety of its caverns.'
'This fills my heart with sadness,' said Legelion glancing up at the cave-roof of the scribe's underground chamber. 'To live beneath the earth their whole lives, and see naught of the summer sky nor nightly stars nor even green trees! I could not live ever in Thranduil's Halls without feeling the wind or the sun upon my skin!'
'The Thousand Caves were unlike these, for they were delved by the Naugrim of Belegost and the Iathrim had part in that labour...' Closing his eyes he recited:
"...through corridors of carven dread
whose turns were lit by lanterns hung
or flames from torches that were flung
on dragons hewn in the cold stone
with jewelled eyes and teeth of bone.
Then sudden, deep beneath the earth
the silences with silver mirth
were shaken and the rocks were ringing,
the birds of Melian were singing;
and wide the ways of shadow spread
as into arched halls she led
Beren in wonder. There a light
like day immortal and like night
of stars unclouded, shone and gleamed.
A vault of topless trees it seemed,
whose trunks of carven stone there stood
like towers of an enchanted wood
in magic fast for ever bound,
bearing a roof whose branches wound
in endless tracery of green
lit by some leaf-imprisoned sheen
of moon and sun, and wrought of gems,
and each leaf hung on golden stems.
Lo! there amid immortal flowers
the nightingales in shining bowers
sang o’er the head of Melian,
while water for ever dripped and ran
from fountains in the rocky floor.
There Thingol sat. His crown he wore
of green and silver, and round his chair
a host in gleaming armor fair..." [4]
Legelion's eyes shone as the lay filled his mind with images of that ancient mansion, but the light within them dimmed as he frowned. 'But alas, all brought to ruin, never to rise again.' He gave a great sigh. 'Were all the Gelydh so evil?' he asked.
'I know not,' replied the scribe. 'For by the decree of Elu Thingol few were permitted to pass through the Girdle of Melian, thus I met none in Doriath; I know only what the tales tell. But in my thought I deem it is unwise to judge that whole kindred by the fell deeds of the sons of Fëanor, who save for their Oath, were as proud and valiant as all their kin; though my heart says otherwise.'
'My heart accords with yours, then. I mean, was it their Oath that made them abandon two young elf-boys to their doom? And thrice slay their Elven kin? So much needless death...'
The boy sighed again, staring once more into the dying embers. Teithoron moved to sit beside him on the rich carpet, and gently placed a faggot of dry sticks upon the coals. Almost immediately it burst into bright flames.
'From death comes life,' said the elder Elf, pointing with his long hand.
'I do not understand.'
'Know you of fëa and hröa?'
'Nay, but fëa sounds akin to 'fae', the soul embodied within us.'
'Well done! In the High Elven tongue it is indeed the indwelling spirit of an incarnate being...'
'Aye, that's what I said,' laughed Legelion, 'then hröa must be that which we name 'rhaw', the body "of an incarnate being"!'
'Yes, child, that it is. Now what do you suppose befalls a spirit that is sundered from its body?'
'Alas, that is death!'
'The body dies, yes, but what of the spirit?'
'My mother, our clan healer, told me it goes to the Halls of Awaiting.'
'She has taught you well,' Teithoron nodded. 'And what does it await in the Halls of Mandos?'
'To be re-embodied... O! I see now. "From death comes life." Thus does my mother hope to someday cross the Sundering Seas to be reunited with Amdiran my slain brother in Dor-Rodyn, as does Amathel his wife.'
A fleeting shadow passed over the scribe's features, but the boy's keen eyes and shrewd mind were not deceived.
'What is it, Teithoron?' he asked.
Laying a gentle hand on Legelion's slim shoulder, he replied sadly, 'Alas, dear child, that might not be so.'
'Whyever not?' he asked in dismay, for he too bore the hope to one day meet his older brother.
'I too share your hope, but...' the old elf began, but fell silent.
'I beseech you, please do not falter. I would hear your thoughts,' the boy pleaded.
'Very well,' Teithoron acquiesced. 'There is an elleth whom is dear to my heart, who perished beneath the blade of a Golodh in the Ruin of Doriath.' He paused, seeing his past in the rekindled flames burning in the hearth. 'Raeneth was her name, and she was my wife for a long count of years.'
The boy took his mentor's hand in his and stared at the old Elf in amazement, for he had never thought of Teithoron as anything save the scribe of the Elvenking; naught but a keeper of books and a writer of scrolls, and now the ever patient teacher of a sprightly Green-elf child.
'But then why your grave forewarning? Does your hope not lighten your heart?'
Teithoron clasped the small hand between both his own. 'Therefore have I studied much lore in this regard; lore that the Gelydh brought from Avon; lore that the Rodyn, who were present at its making ere the world began, themselves imparted to the Elves of the Light.'
'And what did this lore tell you?' the boy asked warily.
'Forsooth, much is unclear, for there has been much debate though the long years, and the thoughts of the loremasters of old are varied and oft disagree. Yet it seems to my mind that some things are certain: not all Elves are reborn, for it may be their wish to remain in the Houses of the Dead, or indeed they might refuse the summons of Mandos to his Halls when they perish.' Teithoron glanced grimly at his young ward. 'And it is said that this was oft the choice of the "Dark-elves" that the Gelydh name Moriquendi or Úmanyar in their tongue.'
'Us, you mean!' Legelion frowned. 'But wherefore would they not remove thither and thus deny their rebirth? And what is their fate?'
'To your first question, I have no answer. But it is their doom to wander the world as a faer, bound to Arda until its End as are the fae of all Elvenkind.'
The boy blanched, his eyes wide in horror. 'I wish now I had not asked!' he exclaimed. 'But speak rather of those who return, for I would hear more joyful lore instead.'
The old Elf's hands tightened their hold on the boy's, and Legelion turned his wan face away from his master's grim look. 'Surely not more ill tidings?' he asked dully.
'The re-embodied return indeed to Avon,' the scribe replied, 'but we who take the Grey Ships into the West are brought not to Eldamar in Avon, but to Tol Eressëa.'
'Then my hope is in vain! And also that of my mother and Amathel, my sister by marriage... alas!'
'Do not despair, my young friend,' Teithoron said kindly, 'for it is written that aforetime the Teleri removed from that fair isle to their abode at Alqualondë, and thus I would guess that passage between the twain is yet likely, even now in these latter days.'
* * *
Together they sat in silence and watched the dwindling fire, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Legelion stood and stretched his wiry frame, and crossing to the scribe's table he poured two cups of rich Dorwinion wine, which he brought back to the fireside. Teithoron gratefully accepted one and the boy asked hopefully, 'Is there more that you know of the re-embodied? Something glad, perhaps?'
The scribe pondered awhile. 'Once it was thought that a reborn fae was indeed born anew as a child to new parents, enjoying once more all the wonder and newness of childhood; and when the re-born Elf was full-grown, they recalled all their former life...' [5]
'So I could be a reborn fae?' interrupted Legelion, astonished. Then he said excitedly, 'Maybe I was a Golodh before! Maybe I have even seen the Light of the Two Trees!'
'Or maybe you should listen more closely to my words,' laughed his friend. 'For though I deem that there might perchance be some strain of the Golodhrim flowing in your veins, for you share their great love of words and thirst for knowledge, have I not just told you that the re-embodied return not to Ennor but to Avon?'
'O! Aye, so you did!' the boy chortled, unabashed.
'And my words were: "once it was thought...'
'So now it is thought..?'
'Now it is known that the fae retains a memory of its rhaw so strong and exact that its likeness can be remade by the power of the Rodyn.' [6]
The elf-child raised a slender brow. 'Thus if I were slain today, I would return in my boy-body?' he asked.
'Indeed you would. But speak not of such an ill-fated chance, now in these days ere a change in the tides of the world.'
'What changes are these, then?'
'Naught but the foreboding of a weary mind and the slip of a careless tongue; I shall speak no more of it. Be so kind as to bring more wine, child.'
'As you wish,' Legelion conceded, though his heart was hot with curiosity.
* * *
Their thirst sated and the hearth-fire rekindled with sweet scented logs of pinewood, Legelion resumed his questioning.
'But why is it that we who are doomed to last until the end of days should perish at all? It seems to me unjust.'
'Ah,' the elder Elf replied smiling, 'say not that it is unjust, but rather that it is unnatural! For in Arda Alahasta, which is "Ardhon Unmarred" in our speech, we are immortal within the world according to our right nature. But the power and malice of Morgoth -- or Melkor as he was named aforetime -- was dispersed into the very substance of Ardhon whence our bodies are made and are sustained, and thus by his taint we too are afflicted. Indeed, the Waning of the Elves is rooted in the marring of the world.'
'Alas! Did naught escape the Shadow?' cried the elf-child.
'Naught save the Rodyn,' Teithoron answered, still smiling, 'and mayhap the bright stars.'
'Why do you smile, Teithoron? I feel no stirring of joy at your dreary words!'
'For we have never known Ardhon otherwise, not even at the Awakening of the Unbegotten at Nen Echui in the quiet of the world. I smile because I have faith in the design of Eru for the Firstborn of his Children, and despite the evil of Morgoth we yet love the beauty of the world and labour to bring it to full flower. Thus is my heart lightened even under the Shadow's gloom.'
'But I have heard that there are many of our kindred that even now forsake Ennor and journey westward to the havens by the Sea.'
'Indeed, there are not a few for whom hope dwindles and who are weary of their long toil. The healing of the world's hurts is a labour that must now be endured by those of us who yet linger in the ennorath, as is our burden to teach the Ephedrim ere we, too, depart.'
'Teach the Secondborn?' Legelion looked askance at his teacher. 'Is there aught they would learn willingly from the Firstborn, for I am told that they have little love for us or for the world, which by their faithless wickedness they are defiling.'
'While, I deem, they are largely governed by the evil of Melkor beforetime, there are yet some who heed the wisdom of the Elves, and with them we must share our love of the world and stay their reckless desire to dominate it. For they, too, are Eruchîn and are therefore our younger kinsmen, and through them will come Eru's healing of all the griefs of Ardhon. In this our memory of the Past and our understanding of what might have been, that is Ardhon Unmarred, will play a great part in the renewal of the world.
'Thus should you also smile, for our task is clear. And you are a merry child!'
* * *
[1] The Lay of Leithian
[2] ibid
[3] The War of the Jewels, The Grey Annals
[4] The Lay of Leithian
[5] Morgoth's Ring, Laws and Customs among the Eldar: Of Re-birth and Other Dooms of Those that go to Mandos
[6] ibid, Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth (Reincarnation of Elves)
It should be noted that this tale is set in the 2978th year of the Third Age, when Legelion was but thirteen years of age; also that these anecdotes are not in strict chronological order.
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