The Great Tales of Beleriand: Definitive Edition by Chilled in Hithlum

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Part One: Silver and White

This takes place during the sojourn of Hurin and Huor in Gondolin: the Sons of Galdor have forged a friendship with their instructress Idril, daughter of King Turgon.  They embark on a mountain trek but their actions are frowned upon thanks to the princess's ever-present and meddlesome cousin Maeglin.  The day concludes for him with an unexpected and unconventional encounter...

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THE GREAT TALES OF BELERIAND

PART ONE: SILVER AND WHITE.

The voice of Idril...

"It began in blood..."

[Murder at Formenos]

"...with theft"

[The Silmarils are taken]

"...with rebellion"

[Fëanor agitates the Noldor]

"...with betrayal"

[The Ships are burnt]

"...and downfall!"

[Fëanor is slain]

"In long ages past Morgoth, the Great Enemy of World, suffered prolonged captivity in the land of Valinor against his most evil deeds, but upon an appointed time he was released.  In vengeance for his shaming he fled that land and with the aid of the unholy spidress, Ungoliant, he left in his wake damage that could not be reversed..."  

[Valinor before and after The Darkening!]

"And under a cloak of impenetrable darkness he returned to Middle-earth to rebuild his northernmost iron stronghold, Angband!  Thereafter the great and fair country of Beleriand and its Elven peoples fell under his shadow; and it so it was that the starlit peace of that land was shattered forever, for never again since this time has war ever wholly ceased..."     

[The raising of Thangorodrim wars against Thingol and the south]

"However Morgoth's enemies were not idle: for those from whom which he had stolen, so-named the Noldor, rashly swore an oath to vengefully pursue him and recover their greatest treasure, the Silmarils!"

[Morgoth laughs as he sets the bejewelled iron crown on his head]

"In this time also the Valar, the Powers of the World, caused the veil over the skies to be lifted and the Moon and Sun blazoned across the heavens.  It is said that far away in the eastern regions of Middle-earth the eyes of Men beheld the light in the west and strayed towards it..."

[Sunrise over mountains: an Eagle soars over Beleriand, finally swooping down behind the Encircling Mountains towards the hidden city of Gondolin]  

"Out of harmony's timeless flight,
Unto broken strife and night

Come O Children, the Firstborn and the Second.  

Beneath the heavens snared in cloud,
marred and choked by evil's shroud
 
Come O Children, the Firstborn and the Second..."

Gondolin...

Present day...

[An Elf maid and two adolescent sons of Men sit in a library surrounded by various forms of literature...] 

Idril: "Strange and varied were the rumours out of the east that delighted our ears in days of old, these for the most part were propounded by wayfarers trading their tales of the Aftercomers.  Of course the stories have all but dried up since our removal to Gondolin.  Still, in after years new tidings of the arrival of the Edain in Beleriand came to us by way of the Eagles baring news from Eithel Sirion; also we have learnt much from the journals of our beloved Aredhel that returned hither from her travels but who to us is now lost..."

Húrin: "Alas My Lady, I cannot enlighten you much further for we are Adan and ourselves born in Beleriand; our childhood stories are bound up with the new rising Sun, and even from our cradles we are told that our tale begins with the migration into the West and out of the Shadow."

Idril: "It is of great sadness to many Elves that our two kindreds were sundered in the beginning, for we shared not in the infancy of our younger brethren." 

Huor: "Perhaps then if you are willing you would show us more..."

The Echoriath...

[Idril, Húrin and Huor traverse a mountain path... an Eagle wheels overhead]

Idril: "My Friends, there it stands..."

[They approach a mound of carefully laid stones, at its base is an overgrowth of weeds and coarse grass...]

Idril: "Alas, such is the grief of King Turgon that he has not appointed anybody to tend to the burial cairn of his father..."

[She proceeds to uproot the weeds...]    

Húrin: "Then is this your first visit since the time of his passing?"

Idril: "My father declared five years of mourning, none have ventured hence; almost three have passed... I could not wait any longer!"

[The weeds are cleared to reveal a low arch of stones beneath which is a slab of Black Piq-stone* and an inlaid plaque of gold baring the name - FINGOLFIN, HIGH KING OF THE NOLDOR!]

Húrin: "He was a great and noble king!"

Idril: "Of course Húrin, your grandfather served mine ere evil befell; it touches my heart that you remember Fingolfin so honourably..."

Huor: "Personally speaking, I found him a bit scary!"

Húrin: "Huor you are in the presence of the Princess of Gondolin, show some respect!"

Idril: "Ha, ha, ha, not at all; it is so refreshing to dispense with formality and not have to..."

[She is interrupted by one uninvited...]

Maeglin: "Thank goodness you are alright: My Lady, when we found you gone we feared to worse..."

Idril: "Strange then that you knew how to find me so soon since I have barely been away from the city for little more than two hours..."

Maeglin: "By happy chance I caught sight of your horses by the head of the pass; Idril, these mountains are far too perilous for your royal person to venture upon unguarded..."

Idril: "Ah Maeglin, what would we do without your sharpness of eye; but as surely as they can see I have two valiants in attendance, Sons of the House of Hador no less..."

[Maeglin looks askance as Húrin and Huor close ranks about her.]

Idril: "See Cousin, I am quite safe!"

Maeglin: [with an undertone] "Safe, for now!"

Húrin: "My Lord?"

[Maeglin ignores him...]

Idril: "If you have tidings of any danger then you are duty bound to say!"

Maeglin: "My sincerest apologies, I did not mean to frighten the children!  Alas, the sadness of the circumstances that imposed the establishment of this place provoked dark thoughts within me and for a but a moment they ruled my tongue; ah, the threat of war is ever present!"

Idril: "Not all the fortunes of war are an evil, after all it was in such circumstances that our fair city was blessed by the presence of our two friends here..."

Huor: "Thank you, My Lady, but credit were it is due Lord Maeglin is right..."

[All eyes turn toward him in disbelief...]

Huor: "Oh the burdens of combat; tell me, Lord; how many Orcs have you killed?"  

Maeglin: "Such insolence!"

Húrin: "My Lord, please forgive my brother's recklessness he is yet unlearned in the ways of protocol!"

Maeglin: "Hmm, well I suppose he is very young..."

[Maeglin ruffles Huor's unruly hair and leaves with a curt bow to Idril...]

Huor: [affectedly] "Well I suppose he is very young..."

[Maeglin overhears and broods at the sound of merry laughter...]

Idril: "Come friends we should away, it does not do to dwell too long in the presence of death..."

[She stops at the sound of soft weeping and turns to see Húrin knelt before the Stone of the King...]

Idril: "Húrin?"

Húrin: [wiping his eyes] "Please forgive me I weep for Galdor, our father who has lost so much: firstly his father and brother, and now Huor and I.  Would that there was a way to let him know we are alive and well..."

Idril: "There is nothing to forgive; come!"

Turgon's Chamber...

[Idril enters her father's throne-room; she is visibly disenchanted to see Maeglin in attendance...]

Idril: "You wish to speak with me, Father?"

Turgon: "Ah, you have saved me a task; I was about to dispatch a search party!"

Idril: "This welcome staggers me: why would you treat with me so?"

Turgon: "I hear now that it is your wont to go off wandering unaccompanied beyond the confines of the city..."

Idril: "Then you heed the lies of an unwanted prowler that stalks my footsteps!"

Maeglin: "Harsh words, Cousin, when I merely wish to ensure your wellbeing..."

Turgon: "Harsh indeed and most ill-fitting for a Princess of the Noldor!"

Idril: "Perhaps?"

Turgon: "I know where you were and with whom..."

Idril: "And why?"

Turgon: "Of course..."

Idril: "Then am I forbidden by your proclamation from visiting my grandfather's graveside until you are ready?"

Turgon: "No Dearest, of course not; but Maeglin is right to express concern regarding your leaving the city without a guard..."

Maeglin: "The King and I feel that mere boys are not suitable escorts for a Royal Princess?"

Idril: "Mere boys; how dare you?  Húrin and Huor are heirs to the vassal of the High King and have already seen action in the war; have you?"

Turgon: "Now, Idril!"

Idril: "No Father, I tire of his disparaging remarks towards them; they are my friends and welcome guests in this house!"

Turgon: "Truly they are: all the more reason therefore not to place them in any unnecessary danger!"

Idril: "Danger, what danger?"

Maeglin: "The colliers have encountered many wild beasts beyond the circle of Tumladen that could easily prey on the unsuspecting and unprepared mountaineer!"

Idril: "There was no jeopardy today, Father, and he knows it; besides an Eagle wheeled above us the whole time, we were quite safe!"

Turgon: "It is true that Thorondor visited this very morn to appraise me on the state of the war, it is good news the Enemy has withdrawn for a time; now how else would we learn this without this with his vigilance?  The Eagles cannot always be on hand to supervise your outings with Húrin and Huor; therefore, in the interests of their own safety, the Sons of Galdor are confined within the city walls!"

Idril: "It is strange that you name them under their father, for at the graveside of yours the elder wept for his own and the loss his family have endured in keeping us safely hidden here..."

Turgon: "Is that what Húrin said?"

Idril: "Not in those words or with my connotation, but the comparison was not lost on me; please father they are guiltless, do not constrain them further!"

Turgon: "Hmm, there is much to consider here; thank you for telling me this!"

Maeglin: "Bare in mind your laws, My King!"

Idril: "Yes, thank you; he knows!"

Turgon: "Can you two not get along; by the Valar, you remind my of my father and his half-brother!"

Idril: [under her breath] "No love lost there then?"

Turgon: "Enough, this time I tire of your disparagement; go now Daughter, I shall see you at dinner!"

[Piqued and provoked, she departs...] 

Turgon: "O Maeglin, was I too unkind to her?"

Maeglin: "Nay Lord, you did as any father would; as any King!"

Turgon: "Why then do I feel like a jailor?

Maeglin: "A Jailor; not so, My Lord!"

Turgon: "Remember what happened with your mother..."

Maeglin: "Firstly my mother left Gondolin during the days of the Long Peace through her own desire and returned by way of her own preference; second and in this instance most important, this is not the wish of your daughter."

Turgon: "I know..."

Maeglin: "Alas, times have changed for the worse since Aredhel's day; and please forgive this for I mean no offence, but I am not altogether sure that the Lady Idril in her purity of heart fully grasps this...  Alack, I have said too much!"

Turgon: "Nay, Sister-Son, I sense that you are troubled; please say on..."

Maeglin: "Its is just that I love you Lord, and my cousin also!"

Turgon: "I know it!" 

Maeglin: "In my heart I fear the evil from without and I could not bear to lose either of you; but thou Lord are strong and able to fend against evil, Idril however is rare and delicate and innocent, she inspires in me the need to protect her.  Therefore as her father, how much more does this apply to you?"

Turgon: "That need is great..."

Maeglin: "Then how does it make you a jailor; on the contrary Lord, not only are you a father to your daughter but a father to your people!"

Turgon: "O Maeglin you speak ever to my heart, but please understand that Idril very much outnumbers you in years and she survived far greater evil ere came to Gondolin.  In spite of this I too marvel at how she remains pure of heart and would gladly lay down my life to preserve hers!"

Maeglin: "Quite..."

Turgon: "You say that I am strong but also is she; hers is fortitude, that of the silver after which she is named - CELEBRINDAL!  However, my daughter's greatest strength is wisdom, and foresight too; both as acutely keen as your sharp vision, and all of them the finest qualities of any great queen..." 

[Maeglin smiles in his dark thought...]

Turgon: "Yet Maeglin in one thing you are correct: a king has a responsibility to ensure the safety of his people.  If as you say that you are able to reinforce iron by blending it with other minerals then surely this can only be to our benefit; therefore I grant thy request to extend the range of your you mining expeditions, but remember that you are not to delve beyond the perimeter of the Encircling Mountains!"

Maeglin: "No, no; of course not, and thank you My Lord!"

The Banquet Hall...

[The Even-bells peel: all are seated at Turgon's table save for Idril and Húrin, Maeglin sits complacently at the king's right hand, exchanging smug glances with Salgant the harpist.  At length the absentees enter and the music stops...]

Maeglin: "My, my, twice in once day; do the customs of this realm count for naught nowadays?"

Idril: "Save your volley, Cousin; my father's word is law here and it is his pardon we beg, not yours!"

Turgon: "Please, let us just sit together and eat!"

[The music resumes and platters of fine food and wine are served; they dine for some considerable time without speaking and the air grows tense...]  

Húrin: "My apologies for tonight's tardiness; alas it was I that delayed the Lady Idril, forgive me Lord, it was not my intent to place her in any difficulty with yourself!"

[Turgon nods quietly with closed eyes expecting a fuller explanation...]

Idril: "Father you see..."

Turgon: "Húrin has taken it upon himself to explain; please, let him do so!"

[Maeglin and Salgant gloat, much to the displeasure of Huor...]

Húrin: "My brother and I are clear regarding your laws, and I know that I speak for him also when I say that we are happy and contented under your protection; but please remember My Lord, we are mortal and you are Elf-kind and we share not the same time span with our loved ones as thee.  Such is our fate and such is our frailty!  In the presence of your father earlier today I was minded of my own and became sad of heart; and in her kindness your daughter visited me to offer succour and concern which I gladly took, alas this caused our delay and late arrival."

Turgon: "Then the matter is resolved!"

[Maeglin grunts ‘Hogwash' under his breath with a cough... Huor glowers at this]

Turgon: "Do you have something to add, Sister-Son?"

[Maeglin feigns that he has mis-swallowed some food...]

Idril: "Or is there something stuck in your throat, Dear Cousin?"

Huor: "I say Lord Maeglin, that painting behind you is rather beautiful; a remarkable likeness, would you not agree?"

Maeglin: "Quite so Master Huor, I did not know that you enjoyed works of art..." 

Huor: "Oh yes, I find them most stimulating... and such a noteworthy subject!"

[Húrin looks askance at his straight-faced brother as Maeglin rises from his seat to pontificate before the portrait of his mother...]

Maeglin: "Behold, The Departure of Aredhel!  Note the ingenious coulisses which frame the central figure whilst still managing to provide the eye with a dioramic view of the city in the background; and here the subtle washes of colour that enhance the white walls.  Although, I feel that the most significant element remains the sublime use of sfumato causing the outlines to be almost imperceptible; this creates an impression of stillness that lends a certain melancholy to the overall piece which, subjectively speaking of course, I believe was the artist's intent..."

Huor: "Hmm, hmm yes I see; tell me Lord Maeglin, when did you first discover that you enjoyed wearing ladies clothing?"

[The whole room erupts with laughter; however an enraged Maeglin scoops up his steak knife and brandishes it aloft with a deep bellied roar; once the room falls silent he embeds the blade into the dinner table...]

Maeglin: "ARREST HIM!"

Turgon: "For what, a jest: I think not!"

Maeglin: "This insolent cur has besmirched the memory of my mother, your sister; I demand a reckoning!"

Turgon: "Do you think that I hold my sister in such cheap regard that the slightest reference towards her could not allow for the tiniest amount of merriment?  The jest was aimed at you not her; indeed if Aredhel is at all dishonoured tonight then it is by your own reaction to the playful arrows of a boy-child defending his brother against snidely comments!"

Maeglin: "I have lost my appetite, may I be excused?"

Turgon: "I think that might be for the best!" 

[Mustering his dignity, Maeglin bows and turns to leave...]

Turgon: "In one thing the boy is right, Maeglin: it is a remarkable likeness!"

[Maeglin storms out with the peel of fresh laughter ring in his ears...]

A corridor in Gondolin...

[Idril catches up with Húrin as he is about to retire to his room...]

Idril: "Húrin one moment, I would know why you took the blame upon yourself for our lateness when it was I that waylaid you?"

Húrin: "I do not know what you mean, My Lady; did I not speak true?"

Idril: "Yes to a certain degree, but you omitted my side of the conversation - the part that made us late!"

Húrin: "Why would I not, that remains between us; what purpose would it serve to betray your confidence when you have shown my brother and I nothing but kindness?  Besides, the king seemed satisfied with my answer and I did not lie to him; for as spake my father in my childhood days - there are some things best unsaid!"

Idril: "You are wise before your years, Húrin: THALION THE STEADFAST, they shall name you in after-years and that title I foresee shall be fully earned - goodnight my dear friend!" 

[As Idril departs Huor emerges from his quarters...]

Huor: "What did she want?"

Húrin: "She?"

Huor: "Alright, the Lady Idril..."

Húrin: "Oh, nothing!"

Huor: "Bah, keep your secrets it does not matter anyway; did you see Old Misery's face when Turgon told him off - priceless!"

[Suppressed laughter echoes along the hallway]

The Banquet Hall...

[After dark Maeglin, still troubled and haunted by the sound of mocking laughter, returns to the portrait of his mother which now appears dim in the borrowed light of his lantern...]

Maeglin: "Why mother, why would Turgon brook the debasement of the remembrance of you, a Daughter of Kings, by the spawn of a lesser race and he himself join in the mockery?"

[He sighs and turns away; to his utter amazement a familiar voice answers him...]

Voice of Aredhel: "Lómion, My Son; look at me!"

Maeglin: "Mother?"

Voice of Aredhel: "Yes, My Son..."

[The image does not move but illuminates from within, and a small patch of red paint appears about the left-hand shoulder; it slowly spreads outwards across the breast and begins to drip until it spatters on the floor.  Maeglin stands rapt unable to move...]

Voice of Aredhel: "When I first brought you to Gondolin did you not take Turgon as your king, swearing fealty to your lord; and did not my brother take you as his own?  Turgon loves you, Son; for on this very day did he not decree unto you that your inherited skill should be put to use for the benefit of the kingdom?"

Maeglin: "You saw that?"

Voice of Aredhel: "I see your heart, Lómion; do not measure others with your father's devices or gauge them only in terms of profit!  Alas that you witnessed not the light of the Two Trees; O My Son, your heart would glow at the recall of it, but you were born under the strangled light of the tallest darkest forest a Child of Twilight, and you saw not even the sheen of starlight until you reached full stature.  Ah, the shadow of that gloom I perceive about you still!  Yet and all I also remember the light in your eye when you first beheld Turgon's fair city and its many wonders; try to recall that exhilaration to your heart once more and forget your woes!" 

Maeglin: "I do remember and yes it stirs me but, Mother, it is only a fleeting wisp without roots; I know that I rank highly in Turgon's eyes and that he gives me ear, but still I stand as one alone..."

Voice of Aredhel: "That is extremely sad and not how I would wish things to be..."

Maeglin: "Much that has befallen is extremely sad!"

Voice of Aredhel: "I cannot see you before me, My Son, but I sense that a shroud has only this minute covered you heart; in this you are like to Eöl, your father, yet unlike him you speak not your true mind and this is why you feel as one apart.  For what purpose would this be?"

Maeglin: "I know not!"

Voice of Aredhel: "You must explore within for that which hinders you and seek for solutions; if you continue to quash your feelings then you will not be able to bring their related thoughts to mind.  Heed this counsel and you will attain the peace that eludes you!"

Maeglin: "Those words come easier than their application..."

Voice of Aredhel: "That is so, but in the doing you shall yield a far greater reward than any temporary profit or advantage gained through self-deceptive delusion!"

Maeglin: "Are you here only to berate me?  Lady, speak some kindness to me!"

Voice of Aredhel: "O Maeglin thou art, but your words are sharper than your eyes!  Perhaps this reunion would be more pleasing to you if you had called upon me in kinder tones; for myself, I cherish this brief moment together albeit from afar..."

Maeglin: "I am abashed and repentant; tell me, how is it that you are able to speak with me now?"

Voice of Aredhel: "Truly I know not, save only that my thoughts ever reach out to you from the Halls of Mandos..."

Maeglin: "Then you miss me as I miss you?"

Voice of Aredhel: "O my little Lómion, unhappy are the offspring of the Second-Born that lose their parents before they themselves gain maturity, alas that a similar fate should befall one of the abiding; in the Halls of Waiting marked-time has no meaning and I exist, simply exist, unable to miss anything."

Maeglin: "Then at least is my father there with you?"

Voice of Aredhel: "I would say do not speak of the least but rather take the most from your life, for ultimately that which you look to is that which you shall find!"

Maeglin: "That does not answer my question!"

Voice of Aredhel: "No, I know; it is a challenging question and one that I cannot resolve to your full comprehension; this place is unlike to any other and is not governed by any physical laws that you might understand.  The answer is both yes and no!  Yes, in that all those who depart the tangibility of Arda come here; but if I understand you correctly then the answer is no, insomuch that I have not encountered any fëa that could be distinguished as the one I knew as Eöl."

Maeglin: "But are not your fates somehow interlinked?"

Voice of Aredhel: "All that has passed between any of us shall be registered on the Tapestries of Vairë and upon those threads we shall meet again when our dealings together shall be judged.  Such is the doom of the Children of Eru: the Firstborn and the Second!"

Maeglin: "You refer to the Second-born with authority, but whilst you walked in Nan Elmoth they were little more than a rumour to us told by Dwarves; for even though their settlement lay at the southernmost eaves of our home we were forbidden to met them - such were the limitations imposed by my father!"

Voice of Aredhel: "Many were those limitations and not least those imposed on your way of thinking; it is erroneous and sinful to refer to them as a ‘lesser race' like your father before you, for indeed they are Children of Illuvatar and of no less import than you or I."

Maeglin: "Then you have met them since?"

Voice of Aredhel: "Nay, My Son: their fate is other than that to the Eldar and I cannot guess at their purpose in Arda, although I do know that once they remove from it their place in Mandos is not the same as ours.  However, I have heard that even the most valiant among them have no chance of return once they have departed from life; and this it is said is their divine gift..." 

Maeglin: "If our fates are sundered how do you know this?"

Voice of Aredhel: "My brother also has trouble remembering this... Thorondor is the vassal of  Manwë, not Turgon; much that occurs in Middle-earth is known by the Elder King and the Powers..."

Maeglin: "And such news filters down even to those kept in Mandos?"

Voice of Aredhel: "You speak as though I am a captive in Angband, not so My Son!  It is true that I walk not abroad as I once did and indeed my abode is in the Halls, but here I am untrammelled by the hröa and I go as I wish, perceiving things as I am able.  In the Undying Lands the Valar are greedy for news from the world without and they hoard it not..."

Maeglin: "What else can you tell me?"

Voice of Aredhel: "No more questions, I grow weary and cannot linger for much longer!  I would urge you to caution but not suspicion, for to take care has two meanings that should not be separated: a good Horse-master loves not his charge any less if he is kicked through his own lack of attention, or indeed a collier such as yourself would not discard his best tool simply because he smote his own hand when not concentrating, would he?  Wake up, Son!"

[Maeglin's eyes flood with white light as he finds himself stood stock still before the painting; it is now bathed in early morning sunlight, beautiful and unsullied by any trace of red.  Disoriented and heavy in body he stretches his stiff limbs, until when he is disturbed by sounds from the adjacent kitchen and flees before he is discovered...]

 

   

 

 

   

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Chapter End Notes

*Piq stone is an invented name for marble.