One in the Deep Waters by Isilme_among_the_stars  

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Across the Wide Sea

 

With the returning of Círdan's fleet from their first crossing to the new island home of the Edain, came a letter for Maglor. Well supplied with parchment and ink, Gil-Galad being true to his word, Maglor wasted little time penning a reply. Thus began a slow correspondence across the wide sea.

 

 

Viressë (April), S.A. 32

 

Atya,

 

You must excuse this curtailed scribbling, for I have little enough time to write before Círdan and his folk depart, having already dedicated the greater share of my free moments on a lengthier recount for Elrond. You will, I hope, learn much from him that I have not the time to repeat. Yet there are some things I wished you to have of me first-hand, not second.

 

I believe you and your kin have rubbed off on my companions, for like consummate Noldor they take to naming each new concept and wonder we encounter. There are already several names among us for the land that we now call our own, ranging from the poetic 'the land of the Gift' to the plain and practical 'Western land'. Still my favourite by far, bittersweet as it is, is Elenna-nóre, 'the Starwards land'. This name is not given for its shape as you might logically surmise, since it rises to a great height in the centre, a peak that we have named Meneltarma, and spreads outward in five points, as a star. No, our island gained this name long before we arrived here, for Gil-Estel was the beacon by which we found our way.

 

It was a strange feeling, to be guided remotely by the father who begot me while I trod a deck not so different, perhaps, from the one he stands upon in the heavens. I have not felt close to him since I was a very small child, and still he remains achingly distant, forever out of my reach. Perhaps this is the most fatherly gesture I am likely to have of Eärendil, and I wonder, up there among the cold stars, if he ever cries for Elrond and I. Am I a hole in his heart as he is one in mine? He is bright and jovial in my memory: possessed of laughter that boomed like wind in the sails, strong arms and salt-crusted, sun-bleached hair. The vision is so real I feel he could step out of it fully formed; swing down out of my thoughts like he used to from his ship, shinning the mooring lines to meet us on the dock. I half expected him to climb down from the crows nest more than once. Perhaps it is sailing that brings these memories to the fore. My father ever spent more time on his blessed Vingilot than he did with us.

 

I thought of you much on the journey too, when the glamour broke and the blonde head belonged not to Eärendil, but a Hadorian veteran, or a silver-haired Sinda caught in Anar's dazzling light just so. I should thank you for being there for Elrond and I when we needed guidance and care. You were, almost without fail. Is it wrong that I am grateful for the gift of a father who was more present by far than my own would have been had the havens never fallen? Perhaps it is immoral of me to be glad of a circumstance begotten of wrongfulness and tragedy. But is a blood-soaked blessing any less a blessing? I know not. And I begin to miss you greatly. What a fine tangle our lives are.

 

But I digress. The real reason Elenna-nóre has captured my heart so is that it recalls to me each and every time I hear it the brother whose name is ever on the tip of my tongue. We are still bound up with each other, he and I, even parted thus. His presence is a phantom at my shoulder, ever disappearing the moment I turn to exclaim over some new wonder I have forgotten he cannot share. In such moments I feel no longer a man full grown, but a boy lost. And if I miss him this much, I can only begin to guess how much he must miss me. Please tell me how he fares, for I know even if Elrond feels bound to hide the worst of his anguish, you at least will be truthful with me. You know what it is to be parted by more than just the sea.

 

But let me turn now from sorrow to tell you of something joyous. I stood on the very pinnacle of Meneltarma not two days ago and sung thanks to Eru for this land while great Eagles wheeled above. The view from that place you would not believe and though I have tried to sketch it for you, it is but a poor rendering of what is in reality the most majestic sight I have ever laid eyes upon. I felt I could have stepped from that mountaintop into the heavens and danced along the clouds. On the Westerly horizon is visible, though only just, the lonely isle and its city Avallóne. Though the few that climbed that peak with me saw it only as a glint, I could make out the outlines of the tallest buildings. It seemed to reach out for me, a sister city to the one I will build.

 

There is something elvish about me still and ever will be, which tells in times such as this. I am a bridge between two worlds, never quite able to set foot fully in either, ever of two kindreds and yet neither. Even after choosing I remain a thing apart. Never have I felt both the loneliness and the wonder of this quite so keenly as I do now, positioned thusly between the two halves of myself, and without the only other who would understand what it is to do so. The next wonder I beheld from that height were tall ships, strung out like a line of pearls, between that city and our own Western shores. Many who fought beside us during the War of Wrath dwell there now. They come bearing gifts, Ossë says, and I have reason to hope their forthcoming visit will not be the only one. I shall give them word of you, in the hope they pass it on to those you loved that remained in the Blessed Realm.

 

There has not been time to explore every nook in this wide land, but already I have found much to love. Enclosed are a few tokens I hope you will appreciate: pressed flowers of a kind I have never before seen, sand from the Southern shores so white that as you approach in full sun it is near blinding, and some few sketches I have made of the landscape. Now, Atya, you also have a piece of my home to keep with you and we are connected not only by the past but the future, you and I.

 

Please tell me that you have found more to fill your days than crooning dubious shanties for tipsy Hadorians in backwater villages. Though you may find their company passingly pleasant for a time, I think it doubtful to bring you much fulfilment in the end.

 

Until we meet again (and I expect you to visit sooner rather than later) you have my love still,

 

Elros

 

 

Nárië (June), S.A. 32

 

Dearest Anarinkë,

 

Come onya, have we not spoken many times of Sirion and its fall? After what was taken from you, by my hand no less, how you still imagine any fault in yourself for that which came after is beyond me. To whom does the guilt rightfully belong? Let us not pretend our relationship, blood and tragedy birthed both, is work of any higher power. To have received care is no blessing in truth, only rightfully your due. That it came from those who robbed you of your rightful parents is cruel still in its way, no matter how much love may have grown between us over the years. It twists the heart into confusing shapes, does it not, when care and malice coincide thus? What I would give to lift that burden from you! But true atonement was and remains beyond reach, so Maedhros and I gave what we could and deserve no gratitude in truth. Take readily of what good has come of it and let no shadow remain over your heart. You know all this do you not, onya? Yet still it does not sink fully into your soul. Let me see if I may help put it to rest.

 

Did Maedhros ever tell you of Rána and Anar's first risings? I suspect not, since he spoke little of our earlier years in Endóre, not only with you children, but with most. For good reason too, as much of that time he spent in captivity. It may be a strange thought to one who has ever lived under their light, to think that there was a first sunrise and set, and first night bathed silvern under moonglow. The closest reference you can liken it to is most probably a sighting of Gil-Estel on a moonless night. Think on how dark the night is before the rising. Even that smaller light on the horizon illuminates much. Then, remember how much brighter Rána is.

 

I greeted both moon and sun in Hithlum and stood awestruck as new colours danced in the waters of lake Mithrim. Maedhros, by dint of Morgoth's dubious hospitality was afforded a more spectacular view, yet it came tethered to great cost. There is little comfort to be had, as you can well imagine, strung by one's wrist from a fuming mountain, and yet this was one: the sky lit up in all its moods under the new lights, high in the mountain passes. Even the foul air and filth spewing from Thangorodrim could not entirely sully the sky's beauty. So, in great pain, Maedhros marvelled at the bronzed lesser peaks before him when Anar set, was awed by the gentle rose-hues that settled in the passes at its rising, and was glad of the banishing of blackest dark from the night. He thought it surpassingly strange that the world produce such beauty amid his anguish. Still would he rather have died than remained hanging there in torment, even for the chance to gaze on it another day. No small shame did I witness when first he spoke of it in whispers, his proud grey eyes hid behind a veil of roughly cropped copper hair. He reasoned no good should come of captivity, you see? Those of us who loved him were merely relieved some small thing had given some little comfort, and saved a few threads of sanity. Do you understand? Taking what solace you can, being whole-heartedly glad of it even, does not cheapen the atrocity you faced, though it may indeed render it very slightly more bearable. It is not a betrayal, of yourself, nor of Eärendil and Elwing, though it may be little comprehensible to them. Set your heart at rest.

 

Worry not for Elrond. You yourself know it is no small anguish to be parted from a bosom-brother, and just as it is with you, so it is with he. All will be well in time. He laughs and cries by turns. But most importantly, he sings, and that should tell you something, if you remember his vocal habits well enough, which I am sure that you do. Not a week ago we sat side by side, shelling cockles for bait, he humming some Sindar lay and I restraining the impulse to complain that he did so carelessly out of tune. When the shucking knife slipped and pricked his thumb he cursed soundly, no doubt a profanity that he learned from you. Then, if you will believe, he gazed West over the waves, laughing around the thumb stuck in his mouth to soothe the sting and asked me: "think you Elros has learned kingly decorum yet, or that he still curses as colourfully as a Halethian irregular?" He resumed humming, still out of tune, and I admirably held my restraint. I am curious, Anarinkë, have you yet learned to wipe the filth from your tongue?

 

And worry not for me either. Your brother and Gil-Galad none too subtly find a myriad of ways to keep me from shrinking into quiet obscurity. All is well with us, truly, and little changes that is worthy of report. Though I beg you tell of the life you build, both the trials and the wonders, when next you are able to write.

 

Should there be any Eldar you encounter who truly do not hold malice and want for word of me, though of that I highly doubt, you may say that I am well enough and find joy yet on these shores. They shall be more delighted to have word of Gil-Galad and his realm I suspect.

 

You also still have my love, and always will,

 

 

Makalaurë

 

 

Súlimë (March), S.A. 33

 

 

Atya,

 

You are wrong, of course. There are those that care for you much and were glad to hear you have found some happiness. It would be wrong of me to sugar-coat, so I will not. Though their brows crease in conflict, and I see a kind of pain in not few eyes at the mention of you, so also is the relief and warmth genuine when I speak of the quaint life you have made for yourself, or a fond moment we had shared before I sailed.

 

Nearly a year has it been since our coming to Elenna-Nóre, and I have now seen her in all her seasons and most of her moods, though I am not so conceited as to think I know my land fully yet. There is still much to discover. Practicality has won out. Our Western country is now most commonly named Númenórë, which is rendered Anadûnê in the language coalescing as the common tongue here (inventively called Adûnaic). I too have accrued another name. Tar-Minyatur they call me now, ‘first ruler’. How very original! And how strange it is to my ears to be called thus.

 

My days are consumed with planning and establishing. I work ceaselessly to craft the bones of a nation while men swarm as busy ants raising shelter and homes for themselves and those yet to arrive both. There is so much to be done, and very little pause to be had. I should tire, but instead I spill over with life. Our toil is filled with hope. Throughout my people runs an endless, frothing energy, generous in gifting thew to our arms and uplift to our hearts. The future we are building is a bright one. How can we tire when buoyed by such verdant hope? And we are not alone in our endeavours. Much help have we had from the Eldar of Tol Eressea. What we should have done without them I know not, since it is from them we have been gifted many plants and animals on which our agricultural and horticultural communities now rely. Indeed, great has become the friendship between our two peoples.

 

Fear not, atya, I keep my tongue well in check these days and speak only fair before your brethren. That is not always an easy feat, when characters from stories and songs you crooned to Elrond and I as children take my hand, saying "suilad Elros" as if we are somehow equals. Felagund came. Finrod Felagund! I had to restrain myself most carefully from trying to catch glimpse of his incisors, wondering if they are visibly more lethal than the average elf’s, so colourful did you make that particular rendition. We spoke of farming, of all things. I suppose it is not so strange, for he well knew the practicalities involved in supporting his own kingdom. Though next he comes I resolve to turn the topic to something more worthy of his agile mind. For you a flicker of sadness crossed his fair face, followed by a generous helping of relief to hear you well.

 

There is one visitor I trembled to meet when at last they came. Even as I write I feel my chest begin to cramp, filled to brimming with all that went unsaid between the three of us. For she was always there in the shadows of our stitched together family. So very loud in her absence was Elwing. I saw her in the hollows of your eyes. Your every doubt as to how best to raise us bore her shape. Now when she looks at me, there is a ghost of you in her gaze. She dances around the shape of you in stiff, too-remote embraces, her mouth set firm at each offhand comment made about my childhood. Should not it have been unfettered joy to be re-united? Why instead, do I feel weakened by sorrow's sting? I love her, truly I do, or at least I am endeavouring to. And yet, I cannot deny the part of myself that belongs to you, though I see it pains my mother. There was no ease between us. It was a relief when she took wing for home (that was how she was saved: riding the sea breezes as a bird until she came to my father) and still I yearn for her return. What a wretched thing is my heart: two-faced and selfish!

 

How I wish I could reach you with my arms and not merely my pen. For ease we had in good measure, and comfort besides. But until such time as I can look upon you once more, I shall have to merely hope that this letter finds you well.

 

Elros

 

 

Úrimë (August) S.A. 33

 

Dearest Anarinkë,

 

If there is one person in this world who has the right to bitter anger toward me, it is Elwing. I doubt any other has lost so much at my brothers' and my hands, and without redress. Should your mother find it in her heart to forgive me before the breaking of the world, still would I account that astonishingly soon, and not at all do I expect it. Still, I am sorry for the conflicted position in which this leaves you. Remember, there was little ease between us either at first. That it grew with reasonable speed was only through necessity and because you were yet a small child. Fret not. Though it may take longer than either of you would like, I do not doubt something comfortable and warm will grow between you and Elwing in time. As for sorrow: why would it not rear its head at such moments? Re-unions are often suffused with the pain of separation as much as they are the joy of togetherness.

 

Elrond, when I relayed to him your words, looked up from the history he was transcribing and said, "did he really think it would be easy?" I don't suppose you did, truly, but I begrudge you not the wish that it could be. Your brother thrives. I am sure Elrond is far too modest when he himself writes, so it falls to me to sing his praises. Elrond may well already be among the most skilled healers in Mithlond and swiftly gains respect as a lore master in his own right, young though he is still accounted among our people. How proud of the two of you I am!

 

Tar-Minyatur and Númenórë! Your people are practical folk, aren’t they? And yet I detect no small amount of wonder, both in what you write, and the records from Mithlond. I am profoundly glad to hear of the boundless joy there is to be had in your growing nation. Elros, what an honour to be gifted such a thing: a people who love you, who thrive together, and the peace to enjoy your time without travail of war and bloodshed. I am under no illusion that such a thing is without challenge, yet how elated my heart is that you have this chance!

 

Thank you for word of my cousin. Finrod truly was one of the best of us, and I am glad to hear him returned among us. May yours be a friendship that serves you both well.

 

You have my love, as ever,

 

Makalaurë

 

 

Lótessë (May), S.A. 37

 

Atya,

 

The years speed past and though I know in truth it has been yet few, at least in compare to the longer span spent together in Middle Earth, these short years bring swift change. There is much to tell and once again you shall find much in the accounts I have sent Elrond for the keeping of the library at Mithlond. Though those, I fear, you will find dry and impersonal. There is more I would tell you that cannot be said with ink and quill alone. I do hope we will stand face to face with one another again before long. Then, perhaps beside a cheery fire and over a shared brew, both of our tales shall run long in the telling.

 

But for now, what shall I tell you? How this land becomes even more fair? Our foremost city, Armenelos, oh, she is such a beauty! And we have not one now, but many settlements the island over. There are communities, towns, craft and trade. We are settlers no longer, and have swift become a nation in truth. Each of the regions is distinct and beautiful, from the windswept North where the great eagles roost, to the warm and clement south, where vineyards are being established. I love the entire island, truthfully, yet my favour rests in the land near the elven haven Eldalondë. For there, in the place we have begun to call Nísimaldar, the first trees brought by our elven friends grow well and blossom profusely with sweet flowers. Though the trees are yet young and far from their full height I see the nascent beauty of the great forest they will become in time.

 

To my great joy it is Nísimaldar that I pass through often to welcome our visitors from Tol Eressea when they come. Though they have more than once offered to meet me in Armenolos, riding through that fragrant place is not a pleasure I shall easily give up. It is in truth, not only because of the trees. For in that place, by the shores of a lake wreathed in the most delicately scented shrubs, I shared first a kiss with the woman who will, I hope, soon become my queen. Astoreth, she is named. Fair as the morning, with hair the colour of honey, and a heart as dauntless as my own. Elwing warmed to her quickly after the obligatory initial suspicion, and I do think that you will like her too.

 

You were right about mother. It began fragile and tentative at first, but something warm and wonderful has grown between us. Though there are still topics to which I dare not venture with her even now, of which you are one. This I count a shame, for had circumstances been different I think you would have liked her, and she you. In another world...

 

If you come not soon I shall be forced to ask Círdan to harass you until you finally choose to sail. And believe you me, I have learned of a whole battery of Telerin pranks that would put to shame those Maedhros used to tell us of Celegorm's. He can and shall make your life unpleasant should I ask nicely enough. I jest, but please do come. I would so like for you to meet my dear Astoreth.

 

With love as always,

 

Elros

 

 

There came a day, warm and golden, as Summer wound to a close, when Maglor found himself treading an unfamiliar path. His feet took him East to a haven where a grey-bearded elf presided over a great fleet of tall ships.

"Could you spare me passage on your next voyage to Númenórë?"

The old shipwright considered Maglor with a knowing expression, his lips forming a little uptick on one side.

"I was beginning to think you would never ask."

Chapter End Notes

Surprise! I changed things up a little to bring you an epistolary chapter. Please let me know what you thought.

Tolkien in fact never specified a name for Elros’s wife, although we do have quite the detailed genealogy including his children and descendants following the ruling line down quite some generations. I’ve given her a name. I feel she deserves one.

There's quite a lot of elvish in this one, I know. While I've tried to explain most within the text where I can here is a little glossary to help:

Anar = the sun

Anarinkë = little sun (Maglor’s affectionate name for Elros)

Atya = dad

Gil-Estel = Star of hope (Eärendil’s star)

Meneltarma = Pillar of Heaven

Nísimaldar = fragrant trees

Númenórë & Anadûnê = Western land or Westernesse in Quenya and Adunaic respectively

Onya = my child

Rána = the moon (also known as Ithil/Isil)

Suilad = greetings (in Sindarin)

Months of the year in Quenya used in the letters each have their English equivalent besides, and can be found here: 

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