Into that land he gathered most of his kin by Himring  

‘So, you’re back’, grunted Hathol, barely looking up from whetting his axe.

‘I am back,’ clarified Hador, ‘but not to stay.’

Hador’s breath had caught at the sight of his father, as he approached. Hathol had aged more than he had expected over the last years. His father would not appreciate if Hador let him see that his son had observed this.

Hathol, with apparent reluctance, abandoned his task and looked his son over critically, as he loomed above him.

‘Impressive gear,’ he said, sounding as unimpressed as possible. ‘You seem to be doing well among the Elves.’

‘Fingolfin has been generous,’ Hador said. ‘I have formed close ties in Barad Eithel and learned much.’

Hathol had nothing to say to that.

‘And yet,’ Hador admitted, ‘we have not been untroubled. Even with most of us getting along well, Elves and Edain, it only takes one or two incidents to sour the atmosphere…’

‘Incidents,’ Hathol said flatly.

‘It could have been worse,’ said Hador. ‘Nothing broken that could not be repaired, nobody hurt that would not heal—physically, at least. Feelings may take longer to settle. I guess it may have been some such incident that set Grandfather on his path away from Hithlum, back then?’

Hathol did not bother to confirm or deny it.

‘Anyway, you turned out to be right, in so far at least,’ said Hador. ‘Fingolfin has pondered this turn of events and drawn some conclusions. He decided we needed a place we could withdraw to, to be amongst ourselves and live according to our own customs. He also decided that I was the obvious spokesperson to administer our laws and mediate between him and our people, because I had already been doing that anyway. Even at Barad Eithel, our people have been looking to me to speak for them at court.’

‘You have been given a chieftainship that you already had?’ commented Hathol.

‘I will be called Lord now, to make it more official on Elvish terms,’ said Hador, with some embarrassment. ‘There were lengthy discussions about all of this in their council, going on for months, to sort out all the details. They are law-minded, the High Elves. Anyway, they ended up giving us Dor-lomin. Prince Fingon had already entrusted many of us with tasks, and rank and holdings over there in recompense over the past years. There were other reasons, also. There are restrictions and conditions, of course.’

‘Conditions?’ Hathol raised an eyebrow.

‘The Grey Elves must retain access to traditional hunting grounds,’ said Hador. ‘The High Elves must have access to the fortifications in the seaward mountains.  And we must do our part to sustain the war effort.’

‘You will continue to bleed and die for them?’

‘We will defend both our homes and theirs,’ said Hador firmly. ‘Although that part is not all about fighting: Dor-lomin has been an important source of supplies to them.  And, in fact, if attacks continue mostly from the Northeast, as they have, then in Dor-lomin we will have the Elves between our homes and the Great Enemy.

But, Father, if we truly wished to stay out of the War, we should have followed Bereg south. That course carried its own risks, though, as everyone must have been aware, even then! And nobody has heard from Bereg since, have they? There may be other enemies that he might have found there in the south, less powerful, but enough to overwhelm him, without allies.’

He bit his lip.

‘Father,’ he said, ‘I knew better than to suggest you should come to Barad Eithel. But I am here now to invite you and the others to come to Dor-lomin.’

Hathol looked as thunderous as Hador had feared. He quickly went on talking.

‘Prince Fingon would have gifted me his own house, along with the rest, but I wished to build my own and I have found a good place. It is by a stream in the south; they call it the Laughing Brook. The soil is good there, better than here. There is enough space for a larger settlement.’

‘And have you asked your Elven-king for permission, for that invitation?’ asked Hathol, dangerously.

‘I discussed it with him. Of course I did! But before you say anything else, Father, listen to me a bit longer. This settlement is failing. The valleys are too narrow. The young people have been leaving. I know that you have been blaming me for this. But everyone who followed me into Hithlum left here on their own two feet. And not all those who left were following me at all; some went elsewhere.

Also, some of your problems here are caused by the isolation you and grandfather chose yourself. King Finrod talked the Sindar out of their complaints when we settled here without speaking to anybody but…’

‘King Finrod did what?!’ Hathol asked, with all the chagrin of discovering a debt he owed without having had an inkling of it.

‘You find out such things when you talk with Elven princes,’ said Hador, without irony. ‘You are dwelling here on sufferance, in truth, even if you did not care to know. In Dor-lomin you would all be welcome. And we have been promised that Elves who enter our lands over there will be respecting our customs and laws.

But do not answer me yet. I will go and greet the others. I have not seen them for years, after all, and I regret that I have allowed your disapproval to keep me away for so long. I will not speak about this yet to anybody else, I promise, until you have had time to think beyond your anger. I know it is not an easy thing I am asking! But think hard on this, Father, I pray you, before you say no!’

Chapter End Notes

I am taking it that Hathol did allow himself to be persuaded, although maybe not all at once. The title is adapted from a quotation from the published Silmarillion text.

It is possible, going by the timeline given in HoME, that Hador's grandfather Magor was still alive at this time. I have implied here that he is not, although I suppose there might be some alternative explanation for his absence.

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