Finding Lost Family by chrissystriped

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Chapter Eight.One

This is again a Chapter from Mighty Love to fill in a gap.


Ecthelion’s steps echoed in the entrance hall of Ilmarin. Now that the last Maia had been sentenced, the Valar had time to decide what should happen to the orcs who had helped the slaves to escape. It was about time. They had dropped them on Tol Eressea and that was the only reason why there hadn’t been blood yet. Still, he and his people had enough to do with keeping outraged elves away from the camp of the orcs.

It took him a moment to recognise Sharû. The orc viewed the frescoes on the walls, his back was turned to Ecthelion. He wore no armour and his dark hair lay open on his shoulders, he could have been mistaken for an elf from behind. Maybe he was a little heavier built than most, a little shorter, but not so much that it would attract attention.

“I wanted to meet you, but you were already gone”, Ecthelion said to him. They had both stayed the night in Valmar.

“I wanted to go this way alone.” Sharû turned around. “I had to think.” He stared at him. “What did you do to your hair?”

Ecthelion grinned and rubbed over the stubble on the left side of his head, the side that was scarred by burns.

“I don’t allow the people to forget what I was”, he answered. “My relatives, my friends, they’d love to pretend that I was never gone. They want Ecthelion of the Fountain, the war hero, the musician and all that happened after can be forgotten.” He shook his head. “I was all that and I didn’t allow my captors to take that knowledge away when I was a slave. But I’m an Angband-Elf and I won’t allow them to take that away from me either. And that’s why I won’t hide my face behind long hair. I’m not ashamed for what I did - had to do - to stay alive.” He put his hand on Sharû’s shoulder. “And it reminds me that it were two of your men who carried an unconscious slave from a burning building and brought him to Mormirion.”

Sharû smiled at him, Ecthelion saw that he was nervous.

“But will it be enough?”

Ecthelion shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t think that they want to kill you. They could have done that on the other side of the sea with much less effort. And they wouldn’t have invited you to Valinor if they saw you as enemies. I talked a lot with Aule these past months and he seems more interested than repulsed by you.”

He saw the jolt that went though Sharû and turned around.

“The Valar are ready to receive you. I’m Reviahûn, please, follow me.”

Sharû looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong?”, Ecthelion asked. He didn’t lower his voice, the Maia would hear anyway. Sharû shook his head.

“Later.”

“He remembers me from Angband”, Reviahûn said calmly. “We were in the mines at the same time. Come, they are waiting.”

Ecthelion frowned when he followed the Maia. The mines... but he couldn’t be one of Morgoth’s men... oh. He glanced at Sharû. The orc nodded curtly, his face serious. Just wonderful. Why did they send someone who was bound to hate orcs? That didn’t bode well.

“Why are the Valar receiving us here?”, Ecthelion asked.

He was surprised that they hadn’t been called to the Mahanaxar.

“The Powers don’t want to cause more trouble than necessary, now that the trials are over. It may be that you will be questioned in public at a later time, but for now they want to settle this matter in private. Most elves consider the prospect of orcs living in the immediate vicinity... unsettling.”

“And what do you think?”

“It is not my place to question the decisions of my Masters.”

Ecthelion couldn’t read in his face. He let it go, better not to push him.

 

Sharû had to force himself to keep his hands unclenched. He was tense and kept reaching for a sword he wasn’t wearing. He longed for his armour, he felt wrong in elvish clothes but he wanted to make a good impression. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that it depended on him what happened to his comrades. The Valar should think of him as an elf, that was their best chance. Mo had known it, Silwen and Garam, who had already managed to be accepted by them, had told him, too.

He wished the two of them were here. They were the best example, both of them, that ancestry didn’t matter. Well, Ecthelion was just as welcome. The elf and his men kept watch so that no other elves could stray too close. It strained his nerves that they couldn’t defend themselves but he hadn’t dared to ask for their weapons yet.

“I have to leave you here. Enter this room.” Reviahûn pointed to the door in front of them.

Sharû looked at Ecthelion, the elf only shrugged and opened the door. The room behind was circular, fourteen empty chairs stood lined on the wall. Weren’t the Valar supposed to wait here? Sharû entered the room and suddenly the chairs weren’t empty anymore. Sharû knelt hurriedly, he bowed his back until his forehead touched the floor. Aule seemed to be agreeable but he didn’t want to take any risks. Melkor had always expected complete submission.

“Rise, Sharû.”

He couldn’t say who of them had spoken, only that the voice was male, it echoed inside him. He sucked in his breath when his gaze fell on the Vala in front of him. He looked like his king though his face was more gentle, his eyes kind. It was said that Manwe and Melkor were brothers but why had he chosen a body that looked so much like his brother, if he could choose?

“Tell us about you, Sharû”, he said, it was the same voice as before.

“I was born in Angband”, he started.

He spoke in the language of Angband, he understood the Quenya the Noldor had brought back across the sea but when he had to use it, he felt like a trained dog. His native language derived from the Quenya all elves had spoken at first, it was a little harsher and less lovely for elven ears but it was still recognisable as elvish language.

“Back then we had still families, later they took the children away from their mothers after they had been weaned, so there was no one they could set their hearts on. But I had a family. My father was one of the first orcs. He was... sad. He forbade my mother to give me an elvish name because he didn’t want me to suffer as he had done. I don’t know who he was before, he never spoke to me about it, he wanted to forget it.

"Frequently he was gone for weeks and when he came back he was ill and gaunt and was in pain when he moved. They tortured him so he wouldn’t forget what he was, whom his loyalty had to belong to. It was easier for my mother. Her mother was a slave but she looked so much like her father that she was considered...” Sharû gritted his teeth when hate boiled up in him. ‘Morgoth’, he thought. He had caused so much suffering. He and Sauron who had had a big part in making the orcs.

“She was considered good breeding stock. She and my father had twelve children before she died in childbed. My father didn’t survive long after she died, he loved her very much in his way.” Sharû shook his head to banish his tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of them. “Mother, she told me and my siblings elvish stories and sang songs full of starlight and open woods.

"It could have gotten her into trouble but although father couldn’t bear to listen, he never betrayed her. When I was conscripted, she said to me I shouldn’t forget where I come from. ‘Never forget how lucky you are that your eyes are yellow and your skin dark. They are your family, too.’ But I was a soldier and I had to fight. I needed to forget, I didn't dare to look and see how similar to me my enemies were.

"I shielded myself by telling me that I hadn’t anything in common with them. I knew what happened to the ones who asked too many questions, after all. I didn’t want to be brought into a cell and be ‘convinced’.

"Later I was transferred to the mines as guard for the slaves and there... I couldn’t ignore the words of my mother anymore. In war it is kill or be killed, but in the mines they were only defeated people and I saw the same pain in their eyes I saw so often in my father’s. I couldn’t do much, but even a guard can decide if he strikes when someone stumbles or wait for a moment so he can get on his feet again.”

Sharû looked each of the Valar in the eye. “I won’t pretend that I never did anything bad. It was my right to take them and I did. Maybe it was wrong, but I at least never was cruel.” He looked at Ecthelion who stood next to him, unsure what the elf would say to this.

“If you have the choice between a master who gloats over your pain while he fucks you or one who gives you a little mercy in all this darkness, you are grateful for the latter.” Ecthelion smiled at him. “But you only understand that when you have been there. It wouldn’t have been of use to anyone if you had lived celibate.”

Sharû nodded slowly.

“Eventually Mormirion approached me”, he continued, “and told me that he wanted to build up a new unit. He offered me the position of a colonel and I couldn’t possibly say no. I was the only orc in such a high position. Mo searched for men like me. Orcs with elvish parents or what came closest to that. Later slavechildren who had orc-fathers, like Garam.”

“Mo?”, Aule interrupted him surprised.

Sharû shrugged embarrassed. “I didn’t call him that in public, but in our free time he was always Mo for me, he was my friend. Mo didn’t treat us like the other commandants. He didn’t look down on us because of what we were. He offered us his respect and we thanked it with loyalty. Mo wanted us to remember who our parents were, Mo wanted us to accept our heritage. He gave us a prospect, a life. He expected of us to treat the slaves justly.

"Eventually I noticed that he siphoned off rations to feed the slaves. Me and my men decided to contribute with our pay. Ecthelion asked me once why we did it. We are orcs, but we aren’t like the ones who are sundered from elves by many generations. Everyone of us could have been born as a slave – and when you see that, you can’t let your relatives starve. And that’s why we are here now.

"I stood beside Mo when Sauron ordered him to kill the slaves and I knew that there would be a rebellion if he intended to follow the order. But Mo couldn’t do it either. He said: ‘I don’t want to have more innocent blood on my hands. Let us do something we can be proud of.’ And so we helped the slaves to escape.”

“Why didn’t you leave after? You had accomplished your task”, a man with dark-brown hair and beard, who sat next to Aule, asked.

“Where could we have gone?” Sharû shrugged. “Our whole life we had followed orders, you don’t set that habit aside easily, and we knew that Angband would fall. We didn’t have a home to go back to, only uncertainty before us. Mo told us that he wouldn’t be able to do much for us but most of us decided to go with him anyway.

"The tales my mother told me, speak of you as benevolent guardians. You invited our ancestors to come here. Shall we be punished forever that they declined and were taken captive? Aren’t we elvish enough to deserve a place near you? We don’t ask much, we only want to live in peace.”

“We thank you for your words, Sharû.” Manwe looked at Ecthelion. “You and your men name these orcs your prisoners and you defend this claim insistently. I hear that you maintain guards on Tol Eressea who keep other elves away. Why?”

“I want to make it clear that we bear no grudges. We only insist on them being our prisoners because that means that it is our decision what happens to them. Usually it is enough to quieten all others, they knew that we were slaves after all. We don’t show openly that we are on good terms with them. But you I want to tell, that I call this man brother and would vouch for him anytime.”

Sharû was taken aback. That he would go so far...

“Where does this... friendship come from? They were your masters.”

Ecthelion bowed his head to Ulmo. “Maybe I’m not the right one to explain this. I wasn’t as long a slave as many others and I did come to Angband after Mormirion and his men had taken on the supervision over the slaves.

"It wasn’t an easy life and we had to do many things that we wouldn’t have done in other circumstances. Yes, I had to work until I was dead on my feet. Yes, I was beaten and yes, I was raped. An everyday occurrence, by the way, you get used to it startlingly fast, although I only let it happen grudgingly. But I was told that it had been far worse before. There were the additional rations, although we didn’t know, of course, that our guards paid for them.

"Punishments weren’t arbitrary, you usually knew, why you were beaten. The rules were rigorous but if you followed then, you weren’t treated cruelly.” Ecthelion looked at Sharû. “It were two of his men who rescued me from the fire that caused the scars on my face.”

“I heard...”

“I know what you heard!” Ecthelion cut Orome short, his anger getting the better of him. “No, I didn’t get these injuries at the fight for Gondolin. Someone who was of the opinion that it would make a more heroic tale, spread this lie. You can be sure that he will regret to have invented it, if I ever get hold of him. I was a slave and I won’t be persuaded to have a guilty conscience because of it.”

“It was not my intention to offend you”, Orome said. “I was only surprised. Please, continue.”

“The fire... A furnace exploded. I was on the way to the exit, I don’t remember why, but it saved my life, everyone nearby got killed. Two guards who had come running to rescue the orc who had overseen us, saved me. They saw that they couldn’t do anything for their comrade but I still lived. They could have left me. I was only a slave, too badly injured to be able to work again soon – worthless.

"They carried me out of the building and brought me to Mormirion. I owe my life to these orcs, twice over. We would have fought if they had followed Sauron’s orders and taken as many of them with us as we could, but we wouldn’t have survived. Sharû said that he did bad things, and that is probably true. They were our enemies and they did despicable things, but they saved our lives. The debt, they might have owed us, is paid.”

Ecthelion shrugged. “Besides, I’m Noldo, I have experienced firsthand what revenge leads to. I’ve had enough of it.”

“And you are all in agreement about this?”, Orome asked.

“I don’t think that there can be complete agreement in such things. Of course there are former slaves who want satisfaction. I gave Aule a list, it concerned Mormirion’s trial, but everyone who signed it, will accept Sharû’s people as kin.”

“The list is quite long”, Aule said.

Manwe nodded slowly. “Go now. Reviahûn will show you a room where you can wait until we come to a decision.”

Ecthelion bowed deeply. He thought that it had went well.

“You spoke well”, he said to Sharû after he had closed the door behind them.

“You, too.” Sharû squeezed his shoulder. “I want to thank you, Ecthelion, regardless of how this ends. If it weren’t for you and the other Angband-Elves, it would be so much more hopeless. And concerning the satisfaction that some of you demand: If the answer of the Valar should be positive, we will find a way to let them have it. I already talked to my men about it.”

Ecthelion frowned. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Do you know how a blood debt is paid?”

Ecthelion shook his head. “I don’t know much about orcs.”

Sharû nodded, but he didn’t continue because Reviahûn came to them. They followed him wordlessly to a room nearby, where food and drink was ready for them.

“If you need something, ring the bell.”

“So, a blood debt.”

Ecthelion poured them wine and took a bite from a pastry. How good food could taste if you knew how it was to starve...

“Yes. To prevent a feud that could otherwise go on for many generations. Everyone of you who demands satisfaction can choose one of us. The victim accepts the services of the offender for a year and a day – complete submission, he will be like a slave. But sometimes the wrong done can only be atoned for with blood. The victim can torture the offender then, although death it not desired.”

Ecthelion squeezed Sharû’s hand. “I’m going to see to it that anyone who might want this will treat your men decently. I meant what I said to the Valar. I consider you as kin – and you don’t torture kin.”

 

Ecthelion walked up and down the hallway. The Valar had asked Sharû to come in alone and the time seemed to stretch endlessly. The suspense was killing him. Finally the door opened and Sharû came out with a huge smile on his lips.

“They give us the island”, he said.

“That’s wonderful!” Ecthelion was relived. He wanted to add something but the words left him when Sharû embraced him.

“Thank you, my friend... brother.”

Ecthelion returned the embrace hesitantly. Sharû was big and warm, he would have liked to lean his head against his shoulder. He stepped back awkwardly before his feelings became too obvious.

“I’m glad that you are allowed to stay.”

“Yes, the only restriction is that we are only allowed to set foot on the mainland if invited, but I think it’s better that way. We know that most elves will view us with distrust and hate, we don’t want to court risk.”

“My people and I will express a lot of invitations”, Ecthelion answered. “And I hope we will be welcome on the island, too.”

“Of course. Once I have a house, it will be open to you anytime.”

“May I interrupt you?” Aule had come out of the room and now offered a pouch and a wooden box to Ecthelion.

“Is that money?”, Ecthelion asked surprised, the pouch was heavy.

“Mormirion sends you this. He bids you to give the money to those of you who have need of it.”

Ecthelion opened the cord, gold gleamed at him.

“But that’s... where did he get that from?”

Aule smiled. “His wages. Of the next hundred years, I want to add. He said, he doesn’t need it because he isn’t allowed to leave my house anyway.”

“You are kidding me! I can’t accept such a gift.”

“Take it. You don’t do him a favour if you refuse it.”

Aule’s gaze became gentle. “He blames himself so much. He will feel better if he can pay his debt. If you really forgive him, accept his atonement. The instrument is for you.”

Ecthelion had been so surprised that he had almost forgotten the box. Now he opened it with trembling fingers and found a disassembled wooden flute. He put it slowly together and blew a note. He was awarded with a deep, warm sound, dark and sweet like honey. Ecthelion’s fingers flitted over the holes before he was completely aware that he played.

“What a wonderful instrument.” Ecthelion caressed the dark wood and noticed the sign that was stamped into one of the brass joints. “Priceless”, he whispered.

“I want to see him”, he said to Aule. “This present asks for personal thanks. May I?”

“He is in house arrest not in solitary confinement, of course you can visit him.”

 

Mo sat at his worktable and copied a diagram. Aule didn’t want to give him humiliating tasks, but as he hadn’t any rank at the moment he couldn’t let him work on his projects either, so he copied old documents. No one had time for it, no one would begrudge him this task, but it was really about time that someone go to it, some of the parchments were brittle and faded. Mo liked the work, it was strangely relaxing, like he was travelling back in time. He had helped with some of this projects – before he left.

He felt that he wasn’t alone anymore and turned around.

“Ecthelion?” Mo stood up and bowed. “What can I do for you, herunya?”

“I expected to find you in the mess hall at this time.”

Ecthelion looked around, the workshop was empty apart from Mo. Mo shrugged sheepishly.

“I’ll eat later. It doesn’t help my appetite when everyone looks daggers at me, you know. Please, sit.”

Mo offered him his chair, but Ecthelion shook his head and leaned against the table.

“Stop treating me as if you think that a wrong motion will get you punished.”

Mo grimaced and sat.

“I’m just polite”, he answered, but Ecthelion was right, of course. “I just have to be very careful. To be allowed to stay here is a grace and I won’t forfeit it with a foolish mistake.”

“I understand.” Ecthelion pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, it had grown out in the last months. His unconventional hairstyle hadn’t escaped Mo’s notice.

“I suppose you intend something with this?” Mo pointed to his face and his partly shaved head.

Ecthelion tilted his head. “People try to act as if nothing happened, but I won’t allow it. I won’t let them make me feel guilty about surviving.”

“Do they try?”

“Yes.” Ecthelion growled. “Death in battle is honourable, to let yourself be captured and enslaved is not. But I’m Ecthelion of the Fountain, I won’t be spoken to like that!”

Mo smiled at himself, when he noticed the elf straighten himself. The pride of the Noldor wasn’t proverbial for nothing.

“I wanted to thank you.” Ecthelion met his gaze. “For the flute, but most of all for the money."

"It is the least I can do.”

“You gave us one hundred year’s worth of wages. I think that’s much more than the least.” Ecthelion put his hand on Mo’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “You aren’t responsible for everything that happened in Angband, Mo”, he said gently. “So don’t try to take it on your shoulders.”

Mo nodded, he didn’t trust his voice.

“How is Sharû?”, he finally asked. “Well. Now that the Valar decided that they can stay on Tol Eressea, they are determined to build homes for themselves.”

“I’m glad that the Valar decided this way. They followed me. I couldn’t have borne it if they had been killed.”

“The Valar aren’t blind. They saw that there is more elf in them than you’d think.” Ecthelion smiled pensively. “If you look at him now, it is almost startling how much he looks like an elf.”

“You like him very much, don’t you?” Ecthelion stared at him.

“I’m still a Maia, I can hear it.” Maybe he had said to much, it wasn’t always a good idea to address the feelings of others.

A light blush crept over Ecthelion’s cheeks. “Yes”, he said after a tense moment. “I like him a lot, but it is too early. For both of us.” He shrugged. “Maybe a time for us will come.”

“I wish you luck.” Mo said it with all his heart.


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