Author's Note: This was originally part of another story, but it didn't quite fit. It conforms to Tolkien's eventual decision to make Gil-galad the son of Orodreth and a 'Sindarin lady of the North'. Meril was briefly Finrod's wife and Gil-galad's mother in a rejected passage, so I have used that name for Orodreth's wife. Ereinion is about eleven years old, or four in mortal terms; Finduilas is not quite fifty.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien except Cyllír. Translations of Elvish (Sindarin, unless otherwise noted) and additional notes are at the end of the story.
There Came a Time of Winter [1]
In the North, they called it mîdh, that fine, mist-like rain that fell so often about Lake Mithrim. West Beleriand saw milder winters, but for several days, thick, low clouds had glowered over Nargothrond. Freezing fog and drizzle kept even the hardy Noldor indoors, and the palace's roaring fireplaces could not quite banish the damp chill from the caverns. [2]
Meril loved this weather. In a cloak of the light, yet deceptively warm grey fabric for which the Mithrim were known, she strode briskly along the sodden path by the Narog, her cheeks bright with cold, her heavy sable hair loose. Her children followed at a slower pace.
Growing elves, Meril believed, needed regular exercise and fresh air. Her daughter was of another mind. Finduilas dawdled, unhappy with the rain. Ereinion clung to her hand, listening as his sister poured forth her woe.
"Adar would never make me walk in this weather!" She would much have preferred to be inside, curled up by the fire, listening to the tales of a certain elf-lord.
Ereinion said nothing, but he remembered a winter past, when heavy snow fell at Tol Sirion. Orodreth would listen to none of his daughter's protests, but carried her over his shoulder into the snow. They had a marvelous time, building a great ice fortress and making eagles in the snow. When at last it grew dark, they roasted nuts and drank warm, spiced miruvor, a rare treat for the young elves. Outside, the wind howled through the pass of Sirion, but they huddled together, warm and snug by the fire, the clear voice of Finduilas rising above the wind with songs of Yule. Orodreth told stories of his family and his childhood in Aman and Meril sang a pretty lay of Thingol and Melian, of their meeting in the woods under the light of the stars.
Ada-einior Angrod and Nana-einior Edhellos had gone to Mandos, and Ada had sent his wife and children to live with Ingoldo. Even a very young elf could sense that such idyllic memories belonged to another time. [3]
A sudden movement in the brush caused Meril to turn back, her elven senses alert. A great beast broke through to the path, darting toward her son. Ereinion dropped his sister's hand as the creature knocked him to the ground. Its snout loomed over the little elf.
"Huan!" he giggled, as the hound bathed his face in friendly greeting with a tongue bigger than the child's head.
Meril stiffened as familiar riders met them on the path.
"Huan!" Celegorm admonished. "That is an elf, not a puppy." Huan shook himself, sending a spray of water at the three elves on foot, wriggling with joy at his master's arrival. Celegorm groaned inwardly as the dog came loping up to meet him.
"Ereinion, you are soaked through," Meril sighed, regarding her son's bedraggled appearance.
"My apologies, brennilen," Celegorm offered, looking warily at the Sinda. The brothers had little but contempt for Orodreth. His wife was another matter. [4]
She paid no heed to the son of Fëanor. "We shall have to turn back, it is too cold for you to be out and wet like this."
Curufin, silent until now, spoke up. "I must return to Nargothrond. I will take him back, if that pleases you."
Meril looked at him with misgiving. "Very well. Ereinion, go with Curufin."
They rode in silence; Ereinion had learned to be chary of Curufin's changeable humors. As they drew near Nargothrond, he sighed heavily. "Cyllír will make me take a bath."
"Well, you are very wet," Curufin pointed out.
"She pulls my hair," the elf-child explained.
Curufin could well remember the none-too-gentle ministrations of Caranthir when made to groom his younger siblings. "Come, Ereinion," the elf-lord said, with a conspiratorial smile, "I have an idea."
Curufin led him through winding passages to the deeper regions of Nargothrond, and Ereinion began to feel a bit afraid. At last, Curufin stopped by a door and knocked briefly before entering.
The heat of the room felt soothing to the little elf, who was admittedly quite cold. He looked curiously at the smith working over the roaring fire of the forge, holding a small crucible by its long handle.
Celebrimbor raised his eyebrows, surprised by his small visitor. "What happened to the little one?"
"Huan," Curufin answered, with a twist of a smile.
"Do they know he is with you?"
Curufin was annoyed. "Of course." He took off his cloak, draping it over a chair to dry, as the child had left him quite wet.
Ereinion sat down near the fire, watching Curufin's mysterious son intently. Celebrimbor but rarely left his forge, even for meals. The smith poured the molten metal into a mold, and then went to the little elf. "Atar, you cannot leave him in these wet clothes." He helped the elf-child to remove his soaking outer clothes. "You should dry quickly, now, little one," he said, returning his attention to his work.
Ereinion hardly noticed when Curufin left, and watched Celebrimbor with rapt attention. The elf-lord worked in silence for a while, and then shook his head regretfully. "This is not the right grade of metal for this work." In Valinor, such metals would be deemed too impure for the use of a student. This land, scarred by Morgoth, seemed to taint everything it touched - even this little elf. Celebrimbor could sense the sadness in the child's heart, the despair of all the Noldor in the wake of Dagor Bragollach. Celebrimbor studied him for a long moment. He knew precisely what the metal would forge. "Would you help me, young Artanáro?" he asked.
He allowed Ereinion to come as near as he might safely stand. Much more work would go into the making of armor to be used in battle, he explained. "Some metals are very strong, but too heavy for an elf to carry. Others are light, but do not provide much protection. For such things, we blend several layers of different materials, but it takes much longer. This, we will finish in an afternoon." He let the child hammer at the hot metal, his own hand making adjustments as needed. Ereinion had curiosity, but no talent; his grandfather's aptitude for smith-work had not passed to his descendants. Orodreth had more interest in letters, and his children took after their mother's people in their talents - Ereinion, though none knew it yet, would show an affinity for ships and seafaring rare among the Noldor. [5]
Eventually the two elves were satisfied with the shape of the little shield, and when it had cooled, Celebrimbor helped the child to etch the emblem of Orodreth on the surface. As he presented Ereinion with the result of their work, it occurred to him that he had given the little elf a thing of war. No child in Valinor would have such a toy. No child in Valinor would want one.
~-~-~
Finrod had begun to worry. He could think of no more places to search in Nargothrond, and still he found neither Ereinion nor Curufin. The guards reported that the two elves had entered the palace, and Curufin had left alone some time later. Finrod could not but think of the doors built by the Noegyth Nibin in the oldest part of the palace. Ereinion would not know how to find them, but Curufin might have such knowledge. [6]
The son of Finarfin knew his cousins did not warrant his trust. Behind their deference to him lay venom and malice that only slept, as innocent as snakes in hibernation. Still, he could not believe they would harm a small child.
He turned the corner of the long passage that led to the forges. He had to accept that the child was not within the palace, and had either wandered out or been taken by Curufin elsewhere. The thought struck fear in his heart, for the woods were no longer safe at night. It occurred to him that he had not asked for Curufin in the most unlikely of places. Retracing his steps, he knocked at the door and entered without waiting for a response. "Celebrimbor, have you seen your father?"
A little ball of tangled hair and mud-splashed clothing met him in mid-sentence. "Ingoldo!"
"My father was here this morning, but I know not where he went."
"I have found what I sought." Finrod held the child closely, silently thanking the Valar that he was unharmed. "Do not make us worry so, little one. We have been searching for you everywhere."
Ereinion ignored this. "See what we are making?" He clambered down and dragged his kinsman to see the little shield he had helped to craft.
"You have been busy." He looked at Celebrimbor. "How did he come to be here?"
"My father brought him to me. He was wet and cold, and my father thought he would warm quickly in the forge."
Finrod mulled this over as he led Ereinion to the main hall and his mother. He often met Celebrimbor late at night, and they would share some warmed cider and talk. Yet the smith remained reticent, and reluctant to mingle with others, taking his meals alone in the forge. Perhaps Curufin sensed his son's isolation; perhaps he acted without thought, on a lingering instinct of paternal concern. Finrod believed it no accident that his cousin had brought this lost little child to his son's place of retreat.
"You took him to the forge." Meril's voice was icy.
Finrod carried Ereinion into the main hall, and had to smother a laugh as Curufin shifted uncomfortably. It was a most unusual predicament for the haughty elf-lord.
"He was cold," Curufin explained.
"It did not occur to you to send him to my handmaid for a bath?" Meril took the drowsy elf-child from his kinsman. "Ai, little one, you smell like wet dog." She glared briefly at Celegorm. Huan, feeling he was the source of the trouble, padded over to the angry elf and pushed his head under her free hand. Meril stroked the silky fur, reassuring the big dog that he had not incurred her wrath. "And it is far past your bedtime, ionen." Much too late, she decided, for a bath. She cast a baleful look at the sons of Fëanor as she left the hall, making her way to the rooms she shared with her children. [7]
"Did you have a good time with Celebrimbor?" Meril helped her son to change into his nightshirt and climb onto the bed.
"Oh, yes, Nana. We made a shield, and he showed me pretty jewels…." The child's voice continued to name the wonders of Celebrimbor's forge, his eyes glazing so that she could not tell if he spoke awake or from living dream. His eyelids flickered, and bright blue-grey eyes fixed on her suddenly. "Nana, when will we go home to Ada?"
She brushed a lock of hair from her son's forehead to cover the distress in her own eyes. "Soon, I hope. He misses us all very much."
"He must be lonely." Ereinion was silent for a moment. "Celebrimbor is lonely, too."
Meril raised her eyebrows, surprised at the child's perceptiveness. "Yes, I think he is." She wondered if it arose from her son's own sense of upheaval.
"I will be his friend," he informed her.
She smiled. "I think he would like that." With this, Ereinion seemed to settle into his dreams at last, and she turned to go, only to hear a small voice speak up again.
"Nana, gerin vîl al le," he murmured. [8]
"A im 'erin vîl al le." She stopped. "Your father loves you, too. Even if we cannot be together, he keeps us in his heart." She kissed his forehead. "Rest, now, and Ada will visit you in your dreams." She turned down the lamp and took no leave, watching over her child as he slept. [9]
~-~-~
The lamp flickered in an icy draft. Yet not the draft but emptiness made a cold bed this night. The wind howled through the pass of Sirion, and no voice arose to sweeten its sound. Like a baying wolf, like the breath of death, the wind and the cold seeped into the Tower, and Orodreth slept not, but watched.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien except Cyllír. Translations of Elvish (Sindarin, unless otherwise noted) and additional notes are at the end of the story.
Meril loved this weather. In a cloak of the light, yet deceptively warm grey fabric for which the Mithrim were known, she strode briskly along the sodden path by the Narog, her cheeks bright with cold, her heavy sable hair loose. Her children followed at a slower pace.
Growing elves, Meril believed, needed regular exercise and fresh air. Her daughter was of another mind. Finduilas dawdled, unhappy with the rain. Ereinion clung to her hand, listening as his sister poured forth her woe.
"Adar would never make me walk in this weather!" She would much have preferred to be inside, curled up by the fire, listening to the tales of a certain elf-lord.
Ereinion said nothing, but he remembered a winter past, when heavy snow fell at Tol Sirion. Orodreth would listen to none of his daughter's protests, but carried her over his shoulder into the snow. They had a marvelous time, building a great ice fortress and making eagles in the snow. When at last it grew dark, they roasted nuts and drank warm, spiced miruvor, a rare treat for the young elves. Outside, the wind howled through the pass of Sirion, but they huddled together, warm and snug by the fire, the clear voice of Finduilas rising above the wind with songs of Yule. Orodreth told stories of his family and his childhood in Aman and Meril sang a pretty lay of Thingol and Melian, of their meeting in the woods under the light of the stars.
Ada-einior Angrod and Nana-einior Edhellos had gone to Mandos, and Ada had sent his wife and children to live with Ingoldo. Even a very young elf could sense that such idyllic memories belonged to another time. [3]
A sudden movement in the brush caused Meril to turn back, her elven senses alert. A great beast broke through to the path, darting toward her son. Ereinion dropped his sister's hand as the creature knocked him to the ground. Its snout loomed over the little elf.
"Huan!" he giggled, as the hound bathed his face in friendly greeting with a tongue bigger than the child's head.
Meril stiffened as familiar riders met them on the path.
"Huan!" Celegorm admonished. "That is an elf, not a puppy." Huan shook himself, sending a spray of water at the three elves on foot, wriggling with joy at his master's arrival. Celegorm groaned inwardly as the dog came loping up to meet him.
"Ereinion, you are soaked through," Meril sighed, regarding her son's bedraggled appearance.
"My apologies, brennilen," Celegorm offered, looking warily at the Sinda. The brothers had little but contempt for Orodreth. His wife was another matter. [4]
She paid no heed to the son of Fëanor. "We shall have to turn back, it is too cold for you to be out and wet like this."
Curufin, silent until now, spoke up. "I must return to Nargothrond. I will take him back, if that pleases you."
Meril looked at him with misgiving. "Very well. Ereinion, go with Curufin."
They rode in silence; Ereinion had learned to be chary of Curufin's changeable humors. As they drew near Nargothrond, he sighed heavily. "Cyllír will make me take a bath."
"Well, you are very wet," Curufin pointed out.
"She pulls my hair," the elf-child explained.
Curufin could well remember the none-too-gentle ministrations of Caranthir when made to groom his younger siblings. "Come, Ereinion," the elf-lord said, with a conspiratorial smile, "I have an idea."
Curufin led him through winding passages to the deeper regions of Nargothrond, and Ereinion began to feel a bit afraid. At last, Curufin stopped by a door and knocked briefly before entering.
The heat of the room felt soothing to the little elf, who was admittedly quite cold. He looked curiously at the smith working over the roaring fire of the forge, holding a small crucible by its long handle.
Celebrimbor raised his eyebrows, surprised by his small visitor. "What happened to the little one?"
"Huan," Curufin answered, with a twist of a smile.
"Do they know he is with you?"
Curufin was annoyed. "Of course." He took off his cloak, draping it over a chair to dry, as the child had left him quite wet.
Ereinion sat down near the fire, watching Curufin's mysterious son intently. Celebrimbor but rarely left his forge, even for meals. The smith poured the molten metal into a mold, and then went to the little elf. "Atar, you cannot leave him in these wet clothes." He helped the elf-child to remove his soaking outer clothes. "You should dry quickly, now, little one," he said, returning his attention to his work.
Ereinion hardly noticed when Curufin left, and watched Celebrimbor with rapt attention. The elf-lord worked in silence for a while, and then shook his head regretfully. "This is not the right grade of metal for this work." In Valinor, such metals would be deemed too impure for the use of a student. This land, scarred by Morgoth, seemed to taint everything it touched - even this little elf. Celebrimbor could sense the sadness in the child's heart, the despair of all the Noldor in the wake of Dagor Bragollach. Celebrimbor studied him for a long moment. He knew precisely what the metal would forge. "Would you help me, young Artanáro?" he asked.
He allowed Ereinion to come as near as he might safely stand. Much more work would go into the making of armor to be used in battle, he explained. "Some metals are very strong, but too heavy for an elf to carry. Others are light, but do not provide much protection. For such things, we blend several layers of different materials, but it takes much longer. This, we will finish in an afternoon." He let the child hammer at the hot metal, his own hand making adjustments as needed. Ereinion had curiosity, but no talent; his grandfather's aptitude for smith-work had not passed to his descendants. Orodreth had more interest in letters, and his children took after their mother's people in their talents - Ereinion, though none knew it yet, would show an affinity for ships and seafaring rare among the Noldor. [5]
Eventually the two elves were satisfied with the shape of the little shield, and when it had cooled, Celebrimbor helped the child to etch the emblem of Orodreth on the surface. As he presented Ereinion with the result of their work, it occurred to him that he had given the little elf a thing of war. No child in Valinor would have such a toy. No child in Valinor would want one.
The son of Finarfin knew his cousins did not warrant his trust. Behind their deference to him lay venom and malice that only slept, as innocent as snakes in hibernation. Still, he could not believe they would harm a small child.
He turned the corner of the long passage that led to the forges. He had to accept that the child was not within the palace, and had either wandered out or been taken by Curufin elsewhere. The thought struck fear in his heart, for the woods were no longer safe at night. It occurred to him that he had not asked for Curufin in the most unlikely of places. Retracing his steps, he knocked at the door and entered without waiting for a response. "Celebrimbor, have you seen your father?"
A little ball of tangled hair and mud-splashed clothing met him in mid-sentence. "Ingoldo!"
"My father was here this morning, but I know not where he went."
"I have found what I sought." Finrod held the child closely, silently thanking the Valar that he was unharmed. "Do not make us worry so, little one. We have been searching for you everywhere."
Ereinion ignored this. "See what we are making?" He clambered down and dragged his kinsman to see the little shield he had helped to craft.
"You have been busy." He looked at Celebrimbor. "How did he come to be here?"
"My father brought him to me. He was wet and cold, and my father thought he would warm quickly in the forge."
Finrod mulled this over as he led Ereinion to the main hall and his mother. He often met Celebrimbor late at night, and they would share some warmed cider and talk. Yet the smith remained reticent, and reluctant to mingle with others, taking his meals alone in the forge. Perhaps Curufin sensed his son's isolation; perhaps he acted without thought, on a lingering instinct of paternal concern. Finrod believed it no accident that his cousin had brought this lost little child to his son's place of retreat.
"You took him to the forge." Meril's voice was icy.
Finrod carried Ereinion into the main hall, and had to smother a laugh as Curufin shifted uncomfortably. It was a most unusual predicament for the haughty elf-lord.
"He was cold," Curufin explained.
"It did not occur to you to send him to my handmaid for a bath?" Meril took the drowsy elf-child from his kinsman. "Ai, little one, you smell like wet dog." She glared briefly at Celegorm. Huan, feeling he was the source of the trouble, padded over to the angry elf and pushed his head under her free hand. Meril stroked the silky fur, reassuring the big dog that he had not incurred her wrath. "And it is far past your bedtime, ionen." Much too late, she decided, for a bath. She cast a baleful look at the sons of Fëanor as she left the hall, making her way to the rooms she shared with her children. [7]
"Did you have a good time with Celebrimbor?" Meril helped her son to change into his nightshirt and climb onto the bed.
"Oh, yes, Nana. We made a shield, and he showed me pretty jewels…." The child's voice continued to name the wonders of Celebrimbor's forge, his eyes glazing so that she could not tell if he spoke awake or from living dream. His eyelids flickered, and bright blue-grey eyes fixed on her suddenly. "Nana, when will we go home to Ada?"
She brushed a lock of hair from her son's forehead to cover the distress in her own eyes. "Soon, I hope. He misses us all very much."
"He must be lonely." Ereinion was silent for a moment. "Celebrimbor is lonely, too."
Meril raised her eyebrows, surprised at the child's perceptiveness. "Yes, I think he is." She wondered if it arose from her son's own sense of upheaval.
"I will be his friend," he informed her.
She smiled. "I think he would like that." With this, Ereinion seemed to settle into his dreams at last, and she turned to go, only to hear a small voice speak up again.
"Nana, gerin vîl al le," he murmured. [8]
"A im 'erin vîl al le." She stopped. "Your father loves you, too. Even if we cannot be together, he keeps us in his heart." She kissed his forehead. "Rest, now, and Ada will visit you in your dreams." She turned down the lamp and took no leave, watching over her child as he slept. [9]
- [1] 'There Came a Time of Winter'
- The title is from The Silmarillion, 'Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin' p 176 pub. Ballantine/Del Rey.
- [2] mîdh
- fine rain (Ilk and S). This is probably a case in which the modern Sindarin word developed from Ilkorin. At this time, Nargothrond was probably most influenced by the more archaic Sindarin spoken by the Falathrim, given Finrod's close ties to Círdan and the physical location of the palace (Old Sindarin would probably form something like mizde or míde from Common Eldarin mizde). (ref. The Peoples of Middle-Earth, 'Last Writings' p 386 pub. Houghton Mifflin)
- [3] Ada-einior, Nana-einior
- Grandpa, grandma (lit. 'Daddy-elder' - we lack words for grandmother/grandfather in Sindarin)
- [4] brennilen
- my lady
- [5] 'Ereinion, though none knew it yet, would show an affinity for ships and seafaring rare among the Noldor'
- There's no mention of this, but his fostering by Círdan would certainly encourage an interest in ships. Such an interest, moreover, would tend to augment his eventual alliance with the Númenóreans.
- [6] 'doors built by the Noegyth Nibin'
- I'm thinking of the secret exit by which Lúthien escaped.
- [7] ionen
- my son
- [8] "Nana, gerin vîl al le"
- "Mama, I love you" (lit. 'I have love for you')
- [9] "A im 'erin vîl al le"
- "And I love you"