Chasing Mirages by Russandol

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Betrayals

Elrond decides it is time to travel back to Lindon.

 

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29. Betrayals

 

We had spent eight months in Ost-in-Edhil when the inevitable moment arrived.

One morning, Elrond and I stood outside the Domed Hall after an early audience, watching the violet shades upon the peaks of the Hithaeglir bloom into a blaze of white against the cloudless sky.

‘There is warmth in the air. Spring is coming,’ said Elrond.

I was almost dozing from the blend of lack of sleep and intense contentment after one of Mairon’s more gentle nights.

‘Erestor!’

‘My lord, I am sorry,’ I stammered, blushing. ‘I was woolgathering; I apologise.’

‘You have been behaving strangely,’ he said, peering at me thoughtfully. ‘One day you are thrumming with life, a grin on your face; the next you are subdued and distracted. And you have become reclusive again. What has got into you?’

Concerned, he placed his hand on my shoulder. I counted several heartbeats before stepping back to break contact without causing him offence. At length, I shrugged. ‘It is nothing, Elrond.’

‘If I did not know you well, I would say you have been courting.’ He winked and then raised his eyebrows, expectantly.

Until then I believed that my nightly subterfuges to visit Mairon undetected had been successful. Now I was uncertain, and glad that I had been most cautious. Several times I had suspected someone haunting my steps, but had shaken them off my trail; after all, I was most familiar with the methods used by those in our pay.

I must have scowled, because he chuckled.

‘Maybe not. Perhaps the chill mountain air does not suit you. In which case, I have good news. We will make ourselves ready to leave next week; in no time you will breathe the sea breeze again.’

‘As you wish,’ I replied blandly, but my gut knotted with anguish.

All our business was done, agreements signed and carefully stored in leather tubes, gold exchanged where the deal had demanded it. Elrond had agreed that he would present Mairon’s petition to Gil-galad, though he had avoided making a commitment to personally endorse his visit. Nothing prevented our departure.

That evening, I walked to Mairon’s house with a heavy heart.

When I reached his bedroom, the door was ajar. I heard soft rustling sounds from within, not unlike those of a dove flapping his wings, which ceased before I swung the door open and entered. Mairon stood at the window, staring at the darkening sky. He did not turn to meet me, so I approached him.

Without seeing his face I knew of his unease. Ever since he had restored the sentient power of my mithril shackle, I seemed to be able to feel faint echoes of his mood through it.

‘What is the matter, Mairon?’

He did not answer. Instead, he pulled me close and kissed me hard. The world shrank to the solid touch of our hröar, and the flame of my desire leapt high and wild as he cradled my head in his hands, possessively. His lips were familiar, and yet their touch was fresh, like drops of cool rain over a wilted flower. I moaned with pleasure.

When we broke the kiss, breathless, he replied. ‘News travel fast, friend. I hear Elrond’s party is readying to travel.’

His eyes bore into mine, demanding the answer to his implicit question. I buckled under his glare and looked down.

‘I must go back to Lindon, Mairon. I have no choice. You should leave Eregion, too.’

‘Me?’ He cried in amused shock. ‘Why should I?’

‘Your presence endangers the people of this realm. Do you wish them to suffer the same fate as Kiinlúum?’

His eyes narrowed in anger; his perfect features twisted in hatred. ‘Námo discarded me as vermin; why would he come searching for me?’ he sneered. ‘I refuse to renounce the respect I have earned a second time, my modest comforts, my craft and the company of people who share my ambitions. And I am in no hurry to return to...’ He stopped short and shook his head. ‘Not for fear of them!’

‘Your position here is founded on lies, Mairon,’ I objected.

‘Are you going to speak the truth to them, then?’ In his dark glare I saw a glint of fear.

‘You know I was forbidden by Manwë at the Máhanaxar to reveal your name or my purpose,’ I answered calmly. ‘But even if I had not been, why would I, while you work in their aid?’

He sagged with relief ever so slightly, and his anger seemed to fade. Encouraged, I spoke my plea.

‘Leave with me, Mairon. Free us both from our hröar and let us hide in the depths of Eä to make a home where no one can find us!’

‘I have done that for many long years, friend. I am tired of hiding and skulking in the shadows like a lonely dog beaten by its masters.’

His mind opened before me, showing me his loneliness, his fear of judgement and of being thrust into the Void. I stood still, mesmerised at this confession of weakness.

The bitterness of his voice turned to defiance. ‘I shall make my fate, not yield to the one the Valar have shaped for me, out of visions conjured to fulfil their own ends. Let them come. I can protect us both and what we shall build.’

His mood swung sharply, and so did the view into his thoughts. I glimpsed bright clouds of delicate structures connecting myriads of parts, each of them a complex pattern or even an equation, his mental images of the untold wealth of wisdom he had amassed on the workings and structure of Eä. Tears prickled in my eyes at their beauty.

‘Working with Celebrimbor has led me to the study of untapped energies linked to the paths of the mind and the chains to the flow of Time; I am keen to explore them further. I have plans, projects,’ he enthused, glancing at my wrist before he lifted his sparkling eyes to me. ‘You may have noticed the empathy we now share through your mithril shackle. This is a mere toy compared with what I can create once I fully master these wondrous secrets. We can make Eregion a place of order and beauty, healed from all marring. Even the pearly towers of Tirion will seem dull next to her radiance. Our Light can be as bright as the one that glares from the West, Eönwë! The Noldor who have stayed in Endórë have all but turned their backs on the Valar. We shall steer Eregion as we once did Kiinlúum.’

‘Not while Galadriel is her Lady,’ I observed, loathing to crush his dreams. ‘She will not be swayed, Noldo or not. And even if she is, why would you share your wealth and power with me, Rušurigas? You do not need me, with Celebrimbor and the Mírdain at your back.’

‘If you do not crave power, friend, I would have you remain at my side as my most faithful thrall,’ he purred.

We exchanged brief smiles of complicity, in all likelihood sharing mirrored thoughts. He reached up to trace my jaw with his fingertips, but after kissing them, I brushed his hand aside, ruthlessly fighting down the tendrils of desire.

‘Mairon, we must speak...’

I wavered and he took the opportunity with both hands, silencing my feeble protests with his eager mouth. He lifted me off my feet as though I were a child and took me to his bed where he asserted his dominance gently but unquestionably, making me oblivious to all but the awareness of my deep longing for him, both for his strong hröa with which he wrought the sweetest pleasures, and for his admirable mind.

Lust sated, we lay content and lazy in each other’s arms. Mairon played with a strand of my hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around his fingers while I avidly watched his face. I studied the smoothness of his forehead, free from worries, lingering on the curves of his eyebrows to remember the path of every hair. Lower down, I dwelled on his long eyelashes, which flickered most alluringly over eyes that rivalled the light of the Silmarilli. I admired the fair proportions of his nose and the bold line of his jaw. Reaching out to touch his cheek, my fingertips followed the plane that ended in the curl of his ear, as reverently as though he were the most precious and fragile object in Eä.

His lips parted and I longed to feel them yet again upon mine, whether light as moth wings or bruising in their hunger. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent as I snuggled closer. Slowly, I licked a path along his neck, then rolled the fascinating taste of his sweaty skin upon my tongue, at once salty, sweet and musky. I smacked my lips in delight.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked with a soft laugh. ‘It feels as if you wish to eat me. Did you not have enough?’

‘I can never have enough of you, Mairon,’ I answered. ‘You are beautiful.’

Smiling, he let his fingers explore the hollow of my neck and tickle their way up my collarbone. I shivered from pleasure.

‘Stay with me, Eönwë. With you I am not...’ He bit his bottom lip, hesitant. ‘Together, life is good. I need you at my side.’ His voice was urgent, almost pleading; in his eyes I saw hope.

I was stunned, nay, overwhelmed. Torn in two, I felt tears swell; I blinked several times. My heart ached, but I knew I could not do what he wanted. I slid from his arms and sat up.

Mairon grabbed my shackled wrist. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, pulling me back.

‘If I stay, I might yield to my desire, Mairon. There is nothing I want more than what you offer. But my will cannot be bent on this matter, not until I am freed by Manwë,’ I said. ‘Can you not see? We must bide our time to avoid having the wrath of the Aratar fall on the Children.’

‘I do not fear their wrath. The scorpion will not scuttle away a second time. It will sting if an enemy stirs its den.’ The venom in his voice startled me. ‘Are you truly asking me to abandon everything, when I have not even felt their presence or that of their spies?’

‘Our reunion may not have been discovered yet, but my heart leaps out of my mouth at the sight of every eagle circling overhead or even at the tamest robin perched upon the garden wall.’ I fingered the faded scar on my hairline. ‘Do you not love these Children? I would drown in guilt if again I brought ruin upon the innocent peoples of Endórë. Let us wait until my sentence is spent. When I am free I shall stay by your side and be whatever you wish.’

‘Will they ever grant your freedom, friend? Their vision of a great battle at the end of Time to defeat all evil, including me, will keep you chained to them. Stay with me!’

‘Our duty is to the Children,’ I insisted.

‘To the Children? Or to your lordling?’ His voice cracked sharp as a whip. ‘Is this how you fulfil your vows of everlasting love, by spurning me so that you can offer yourself to Elrond in the name of duty?’ He spat the last word.

‘I owe him fealty, nothing more and nothing less,’ I retorted. ‘Do not blame him for my strictures; he did not place them on me, the Valar did.’

‘Their very shadow threatens to steal you away from me again. I wish they could taste the bitterness of retribution, of watching those they love perish in agony,’ he snarled. His fingers tightened viciously around my wrist. ‘You are not going anywhere!’

‘And what exactly do you intend to do, Mairon? Chain me to your bed? I thought you wished for a willing thrall, not one of those wretched captives you toyed with in Angamando, who you beat and tortured into submission.’ I tugged in anger against his iron grip. ‘Release me!’

‘Why? So you can bend over and spread your arse for Elrond?’ he hissed, his face distorted into a leer. ‘Is that not what you have wanted to do all these years?’

‘Unfair and untrue!’ I cried. ‘How can you possibly understand what I endured, the ache of being apart from you all those lonely yéni, sustained only by my love, when the mere sound of that word love disgusts you? How dare you call me false, when you faked your own death just for the thrill of grinding me into the dust and watching me grieve? Have I not given you all, everything you ever asked for: submission, obedience, loyalty, and even silence? I could now destroy you with a single word, Gorthaur!’

He froze, his eyes round with shock at hearing that hated name. Snatching my hand free, I scrambled away from him and tumbled off the bed onto the floor. He stood looming over me. On my knees before him I was helpless, an infant facing an angry lion.

I watched him warily as I rose to my feet. His expression shifted to a look of profound hurt that made me wince. How could I have been so cruel? But it was too late to unsay my words.

‘You would betray me?’ he asked in a voice of steel.

‘There is no betrayal, Mairon, never from me,’ I whispered, swallowing down the painful lump in my throat.

He turned his back to me and began shaking violently, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. My shackle radiated a confused range of emotions that died down slowly.

‘Leave now, Herald, or I shall not be responsible for what I do to you.’

Hastily I obeyed, fumbling to dress, fighting despair and the urge to touch him, to tell him it had all been a terrible mistake, to fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness. I watched him stride to the door and yank it wide open; his face was unreadable but his fingers, gripping the jamb, were white. Tears ran freely down my face, as I rushed out of his house.

That night I howled my pain into my pillow.

‘Curse you, Manwë! And you, Nurufantur! May you suffer a thousand times the torments you have inflicted upon us, may you be damned and thrown into the Void until all the stars die in the sky... Oh, why did I lose my temper? Why did I let him goad me...?’

I desperately wished that in the light of day Mairon would listen to reason and we could be reconciled before I left.

That was not meant to be.

In the morning Celebrimbor informed Elrond and me that Annatar had left the city before dawn, heading for a mountain refuge to seek peace and guidance from the One.

 

 

Lindon, Year 1208 of the Second Age of Arda

The King absently drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair as he considered Elrond’s thorough description of Annatar, along with his herald’s misgivings about the Maia’s purposes. When Gil-galad turned to appraise me, I met his gaze calmly and waited to be addressed.

‘Aulendil’s curwë has already proved to be an asset to Eregion,’ he said at last, ‘but your lord cannot shake his unease about granting him leave to enter Lindon. What say you, Erestor?’

Considering he had once banished me as a threat to his realm, I was honoured that he asked for my opinion on a matter of security. I had expected the question and weighed every word of my reply.

‘Annatar thrives on knowledge and order, Sire; he yearns to make Ennor a place to rival Valinor, where those who have chosen to remain in these shores are not doomed to fade, as Mandos decreed. He is no niggard and shares his wisdom freely with those of like minds who have the required ability to learn from him, but his forceful personality and the keenness of his mind can seem overbearing at times. As for his fair appearance that my lord deems disturbing,’ I paused, struck by a pang of longing, ‘Aulendil has donned a hröa like ours to feel closer to us instead of appearing lofty and cold, as the Maiar seemed during the War. I believe he truly wishes our friendship and means no harm, my lord king.’

‘Anything you would like to add, Elrond?’

‘I cannot disagree with Erestor’s assessment, and yet something niggles at the edge of my mind that makes me doubt Artano. When I have spoken to Galadriel, she also confessed her antipathy, though she objects to his condescending bearing most of all. In my case, I find his voice and his fair mien oddly compelling, as though he strives to lure me, to seduce me into his cause.’ He ran his hand over his brow, frowning. ‘What concerns me gravely is that with his mere presence Annatar has created a rift where there might have been none before. The Lord and Lady of Eregion can hardly afford estrangement with Celebrimbor and the Gwaith-i-Mírdain, but their stances are diverging and I foresee a breach sooner or later.’

‘Are you accusing Annatar of deliberately widening this rift you speak of?’ Gil-galad frowned; I was startled.

‘No, Sire, that is not what I meant,’ answered Elrond firmly. ‘I have no proof of manipulation or misdoing. If I had, I would have taken the matter directly to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.’

‘I can hardly afford further discord in this realm; it is hard enough to rule all our disparate peoples as it stands,’ sighed Ereinion. ‘I am not sure the reasons for your mistrust are solid enough, Elrond, but I have made my decision. We will deny Annatar’s request. Draft the response in my name and I will sign it myself, so that he and Celebrimbor know that we have given his petition our full consideration.’

I bit my lip. I knew Mairon would be furious but on the other hand I was relieved he would not come, considering his jealousy of Elrond.

After dealing with other matters, Elrond and I were dismissed and we returned to our ordinary tasks, where stacks of paperwork awaited my lord after our long absence. Once alone with him, I took my chance.

‘Elrond,’ I said, ‘I wish to include private letters to Celebrimbor and Annatar in our official correspondence. Artano and I enjoyed discussing the days before the Darkening. I fear he will be disappointed about the outcome of his petition; I would regret to wholly sever our acquaintance.’

‘Be my guest,’ he replied, peering at me. ‘I have no business with your friendships. Or with your lovers.’ Caught unawares, I blushed to the root of my hair, betraying myself.

‘So I was right, after all,’ he exclaimed with a smug grin on his face, behind which I sensed tightly reined disappointment. ‘Even though you would not admit to it. Luckily for you, I was too slow to realise the reason for your strange moods and your perennial excuses to retire early from social events.’

‘I regret resorting to deception, my lord,’ I mumbled sincerely. It had never been my intention to hurt him that way.

Almost panicking, I braced myself against an interrogation about Mairon and our past history. Elrond would surely realise Annatar must be no other than my long lost lover.

‘I must confess my curiosity about the identity of the fortunate man.’ I froze in hopeful surprise. ‘What is his relation to Annatar? Is he one of the Mírdain, maybe? An ambitious journeyman aspiring to join the inner circle, or even an apprentice, keen and full of dreams? Or, why not, you may have fallen for one of the Masters...’ He watched me keenly but I held his gaze, giving nothing away. ‘Had it been Celebrimbor, he would have all but demanded that I release you from your oath so that you stayed at his side. Had it been Annatar himself...’ He bit his lip, and his eyes lost their focus for an instant. ‘If his brilliance extends to the arts of love, he would have eclipsed your memory of the said oath, and made you forget your own name, or mine.’ He chuckled. ‘I would have had to send a search party.’

When I remained silent, he sighed.

‘You are right keeping your secret, Erestor. Whoever it is, I should know, but I trained you well; you managed to elude my vigilance.’

I was weak with relief.

‘You spied on me?’ I queried at length, ruffled.

‘We were in a realm that sat on the other side of a negotiating table; you were privy to all of Lindon’s secrets on the matter. Of course I spied on you. It was my duty, and I was annoyed at my failure.’ He smiled fondly as he slapped me on the back. ‘But you fought relentlessly at my side to protect our precious gold coins from the grasp of those greedy merchants, and did not desert me to enjoy the rich rewards that you would have earned, so I assume you only whispered sweet, tender words into your lover’s ears.’

Recalling my last meeting with Mairon, when whispers had become snarls, and sweet and tender words had turned into bitter and hurtful accusations, I felt like screaming. Elrond had hit too close to the mark while being so far from the truth. I gritted my teeth and took a slow, calming breath before answering him.

‘Indeed, my lord. All but songs and poems, they are not my style.’ I smiled back. ‘Nevertheless, I shall assume you will be reading my letters to Ost-in-Edhil from now on.’

‘Oh Erestor, where is your trust in your lord?’ He rolled his eyes dramatically.

I wrote to Celebrimbor, thinking him for his generous hospitality during the months of our stay. And I penned a polite letter to Mairon, in which I reiterated my pleasure at meeting him, gave a brief summary of our uneventful journey and wished him success in his projects.

‘I sorely regretted not being able to speak my farewell to you, Artano. I wish I could have accompanied you in your journeys. Time spent in reflection in the midst of the majestic peaks of the Hithaeglir can bring a man, or a Maia, closer to Eru and to the beauty of His creations. Faced with the sight of the wide lands spread all the way to where they embrace the sky, it is no hardship to realise that we are indeed little in the grand design of Arda, and our individual desires and daily strife seem unimportant in comparison. I wonder if this is how you, one of the Ainur tasked to guard her, feel when you explore her great wilderness? But I have digressed into pompous matters.

I heartily appreciated your willingness to share your memories of bygone ages and hope to see you again in the near future, even if our reunion must regretfully be outside Lindon. I spoke on your behalf before my king, but it is not my place to question his decision.

The last few lines were for the benefit of Elrond, in case he did indeed pry into my correspondence; I did not doubt he would immediately guess the oblique meaning intended for Mairon, too. I smirked at the thought of sending him on a merry chase.

Finally, I would be most grateful if you were to give my regards to our mutual friend from the Jewellers’ Guild. Would you be kind enough to relay a message from me? I am eager to hear whether he is willing to accept my modest commission in the terms we discussed; unfortunately I departed without agreeing a price and finalising arrangements.’

Mairon replied, only a few weeks later. My heart was in my mouth as I beheld his familiar handwriting and tore the seal broken.

‘My esteemed Erestor,’ he started. After general news, he continued like this:

‘My mountain retreats always bring me a deep sense of peace and contentment and this time has been no exception. Like you, I am awed by the great wonder that is Eä, while saddened by the marring wrought on the fairness of Endórë that lies desolate and dark, all but forsaken by the Valar. Alas, for neither Gil-galad nor Elrond will aid me in my labours despite their might and wisdom! But these petty matters of politics are trivia, without the power to affect me.

I am faced with a great challenge, the greatest yet in my long existence, and my heart tells me I shall find the answers I need here in Ost-in-Edhil, with the Mírdain. Mastering the curwë to tap into the energies that I have only begun to discover will demand time and patience, but the reward will amply repay all my efforts. Maybe then your King will perceive the value of what I offer freely to those who love Endórë and would remain here as lords, and not as a fading memory of more glorious times.

Having followed up your enquiry, I am afraid that my gem cutter colleague has decided to reject your commission after your failure to meet the terms of your previous agreement. I recommend that you seriously reconsider your position in the matter if you wish for a satisfactory outcome.

May Eru hold you safe.

Your humble servant,

Artano Aulendil’

Cradling the letter that his hands had held not long ago, I was hit by a cold wave of dismay that brought tears to my eyes, and spurred by an urge to jump on a horse and gallop to Ost-in-Edhil as fast as the wind. I wished to repair the damage wrought by my unwise words at our angry parting, before bitterness, grown cankerous with time, sundered us for good. But I feared to surrender reason to desire.

I was racked by regret, tormented by doubt. Had I made the right decision, yielding to the threats of the Valar when they had given no sign of having discovered our encounter? Had I destroyed our chance of happiness on a whim built on unfounded fears?

 

Years glided by but I barely noticed the passing of the seasons, forever busy at Elrond’s side in the service of the realm. News from Ost-in-Edhil was frequent although Mairon rarely answered my missives and, whenever he did, he skirted any hint of our past relationship. Celebrimbor wrote to us often to share his achievements or to disapprove of Lady Galadriel’s regular stays in Lórinand. We all rejoiced and sent gifts at the birth of her daughter, Celebrían. Mine was a rather noisy rattle I made from carved seashells and mother of pearl.

Over a yén had passed when the increasing rumours of disagreements between the Lord and Lady of Eregion and the ambitious Gwaith-i-Mírdain escalated into a tumultuous crisis that resulted in Celebrimbor seizing power, backed by the Mírdain, fortunately without resorting to violence, while Galadriel removed to Lórinand with Amroth and Celebrían[1]. A survivor of the Helcaraxë and the wars in Beleriand, she would have fought her adversaries ferociously and never given ground, had the safety of her children not overruled her pride. Celeborn stayed behind in a vain attempt to wield his tempering influence, but also because he would not cross the threshold of Khazad-dûm.

Elrond saw in these events the sad confirmation of Annatar’s pernicious influence and the proof of his misgivings. Gil-galad wrote to Celebrimbor, pleading him to stand down or, at least, to disregard perilous advice but the new Lord of Eregion bluntly advised his cousin and former king to mind his own business. Mairon’s replies at my anxious questioning were soothing but vague; however, he categorically denied my lord’s outspoken accusation of having stoked Celebrimbor’s rebellious desire to become his own master.

Torn by misgivings, I fought to disregard the inner voice that warned me of the danger of leaving Mairon unwatched. Once he had been ambitious, cunning and sly, as well as ruthless. He still was. But his involvement in the background of a bloodless struggle for power was a far call from reverting to his old evil ways, so I saw no reason to disclose his identity. I was nevertheless dismayed, and every time a messenger from Eregion arrived, my heart thudded painfully in my chest, dreading more dire news.

More years passed, and my unease slowly faded as Eregion thrived, and the smiths of the Mírdain reached skills unsurpassed by the Children since the days before the Darkening. Celebrimbor hinted at a new project, the most ambitious and secret yet, culmination of yéni of toil under Annatar’s tuition. Mairon seemed equally thrilled despite his usual coldness in the brief notes he sometimes included within Celebrimbor’s letters.

One day, almost at the close of the sixteenth century of the Second Age of Arda, as Time was measured in these lands, Mairon wrote me a cryptic note, using Tengwar to transcribe the tongue of Kiinlúum to avoid prying eyes:

‘My job is done in Eregion, friend, our dream almost within my grasp. I shall summon you.’

I fretted about its meaning, beyond his infuriatingly familiar arrogance, wishing for answers to a myriad of questions. He called me friend, a word he had not used in any of his previous messages. Did that mean that in his joy he was willing to forgive me?

Several weeks later Celebrimbor confirmed that Annatar had indeed made his farewells and left Eregion. Elrond and Gil-galad almost cheered with relief at this news, but I felt as though the ground had sunk under my feet.

I waited, blindly, desperately clinging to my trust.

 

 

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[1] I am following the version of events described in “Concerning Galadriel and Celeborn” in Unfinished Tales, which includes both Celebrimbor’s rebellion and Galadriel’s subsequent departure to Lórien with Amroth and Celebrían. Christopher Tolkien tells us that this version was written after The Lord of the Rings.