A Different Kind of Hell [ Silmarillion ] 3

Chapter 14: Of Gold and Silver

LAKE MITHRIM

Eve woke to shouts. Fear filled her as she threw off the blanket Nixiel had made for her, the dirt beneath her fingers sticking under her nails. She flung open the red flaps of her tent. Her stomach sank.

Over the lake, the dark horizon glowed just the faintest bit red. Screams filled her ears again, though she couldn't tell from where. They sounded familiar. Eve couldn't speak. Her mouth dried as she began to make out the screams.

Pityo, Pityo, Pityo. That's all she heard amidst tears.

It took every ounce of strength she'd learned to draw on in the age since leaving Valinor to close her eyes and look away from the horizon. It wasn't real. She wasn't at Losgar. She wasn't watching as raging flames consumed Pityo. She wasn't watching as Telvo drowned beneath the waves red like blood in the dark of night.

But the shouts and murmurs continued. Eve opened her eyes again, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She felt a presence to her left, quiet but steady. Hyamindo had been a companion with her since the night she'd wandered off. He had a good head on his shoulders, typically quiet but not afraid to remind her not to do something stupid. He'd already lost one lord. He wasn't going to lose another.

Eve turned from the horizon to look at him. A soft glow, more golden than the red flames that had raged at Losgar, highlighted the youthful grace of his face. His light grey eyes widened as he stared straight ahead. She frowned. He carried so much guilt in him as well. Alqualondë, Losgar, Dagor-nuin-Giliath, the capture of Nelyo. Which trauma raced through his mind now, she could only guess. The sunlight softened him, but could not erase his pain.

Sunlight.

Eve turned so fast, a few strands of her scarlet hair caught in her mouth. Not firelight. Sunlight. There! Rising over the hills, the star that had given her home life and shone down on her so many years ago. Her heart skipped a beat. The shouts had turned to near silence. Only a steady breeze that caused tents and banners to snap and ruffle alongside the waves on the lake shore accompanied the first rising of the sun in this new land.

The last time she'd seen the sun, Eve had been with Christopher and Sophia, strolling down Manchester Avenue. She remembered the dark, leafless branches of the trees that during autumn painted their town with reds and golds. She hadn't noticed the beauty of that golden ball of light in the sky. Eve only remembered being frustrated with the uncharacteristic heat for New Year's Eve in New England.

But as the sun rose over the Fëanorian camp, its golden light bathing the green fields and lake as far as any elven eyes could see, Eve's heart leapt. The voice of her chaplain at a mass a thousand lifetimes ago filled her mind. Be praised, my Lord, for all your creatures, and first for brother sun, who makes the day bright and luminous. He is beautiful and radiant with great splendor. He is the image of You, Most high!

"What, my lady?"

Eve startled. She hadn't realized she'd said anything until Hyamindo spoke. It took all her strength to tear her gaze from the rising sun. It didn't hurt her. It only reminded her of what she'd left behind when that truck had taken her life.

"I forgot how beautiful it is." Eve struggled with her words. They caught in her throat, as if too precious to release. The sun. Home.

Hyamindo took a deep, silent breath. "Indeed, it is the fruit of Laurelin, there is no mistaking it."

"What?" Eve frowned for a moment. She turned away from the elf captain and back to the sunrise. Then her smile fell. Laurelin. Not her sun. Not home. The Canticle of the Sun that had rang in her ears moments before fell silent. Just a glowing fruit from Valinor, the new home she had rashly discarded.

"I do not know how the Valar saved it. Perhaps Yavanna is more powerful than even she believed."

"I thought it was something else."

Eve couldn't look back at him. Not at the Fëanorian clasp upon his red cape, nor his grey eyes that would've been so out of place in New England. Instead she searched the sunrise for any hint of the sun she knew.

Was it possible? Could the fruit of Laurelin and the sun of Earth be the same? No. She had left behind that life. Here, she was Lady Elmendë of House of Finwë. Not a college student. Not a budding artist.

"What did you think it was, my Lady?"

She turned to him with a soft smile. "Something from a book I read. It reminded me of a story."

"I never paid much attention to my teachers," Hyamindo admitted. "I preferred to run about, shooting arrows at any tree I could find. It is a wonder I even know Laurelin and Telperion's names."

Eve couldn't help but chuckle at his joke. As the light of Valinor bathed them in warmth, she allowed herself to just feel the moment. It would do no use to dwell on a past she could never reclaim.

Hyamindo paused for a moment before speaking more softly. "I like it though, what you said, my Lady. 'Let there be light'. It is apt."

Her breathing stopped. Flashes of memories, of golden chalices and a jeweled monstrance, of bowed heads and prayers for forgiveness, the smell of incense and thin pages between her fingers, crashed into her again. He is beautiful and radiant with great splendor he is the image of You, Most high!

Perhaps it didn't matter. Years ago, she had prayed to God to accept her marriage, convinced that Iluvatar and her God were one in the same. It had kept her going, given her a solid foundation. No heartache had been enough in the Undying Lands to sever that belief. Only the blood of the Teleri and the ashes of their ships in the bay had done that.

Since then, hatred and agony had been her constant companions. Eve frowned. Perhaps what she had once professed with such certainty in the mountains of Valinor was true after all.

"My Lords."

Hyamindo bowed to two of her brothers as they approached. Káno and Moryo. The former had still refused to accept the kingship, and Eve had to give him credit for his steadfast hope that Nelyo was indeed still alive. Eve didn't bow, but she also didn't turn away.

"Give us a moment, Hyamindo," Káno said. When the man had moved away, Káno turned back to Eve. "Is this-"

"The Sun?" Eve paused. She didn't feel bad about interrupting him so angrily at first, but at the hurt in his eyes she regretted it. "I don't know. Perhaps."

"It changes nothing," Moryo argued. "Father is gone, Nelyo is gone. The Valar will not help us. This golden fruit is but a sign that they have power here and yet are still unwilling to act."

Káno shook his head. "You are correct that it changes nothing right now. But perhaps in what remains of Laurelin's light, what was begrudged to this land will now give it more life to aid us."

As if in answer, the whisper of a chorus of trumpets reached their ears. The camp went dead silent. Káno and Moryo froze. The trumpet echoes died away and for a moment, Eve wondered if she'd imagined it.

Until they sounded again. Louder this time, in harmony, with splendor and righteousness, the trumpets of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë cut through the air. Moryo and Káno turned to look at the western horizon where the sun had risen. Eve grabbed her mouth. As tears filled her eyes, she couldn't make them out.

Moryo lowered his voice. "It isn't possible."

Another trumpet blast echoed off the hills to the west. Still faint and far away, but unmistakable. The younger houses had came at last.

Eve fell to her knees. In the light of the sun, for sun she would name it whether fruit of Laurelin or flaming ball of stardust, she wept. Let there be light.