Iron Stars

Chapter 19: Commander

⚠️Trigger Warning: This chapter will be discussing eating disorders, self harm and suicide. If any of these things trigger you, do not read this chapter. I can post a summary for any dealing with these problems. I would highly recommend reaching out to somebody and seeing if you can get help. ⚠️

SA 35
Northern Ered Luin

Nyx stood alone, the wind gently buffeting her. Her hair billowed around her head, strands falling past her silver eyes. Eyes that reflected the light of Valinor and of the stars above. Eyes that had seen both cruelty and beauty. Eyes that were surrounded by vicious scars. Wrapped around her shoulders was a deep maroon cloak, keeping her warm as the wind blew. She bore no weapons, perhaps for the first time in many years.

The land she stood upon was desolate, ravens alone flying through the turbulent air. Nearby the earth met the sea at a steep cliff, where waves leapt up, seeking a place in the world. The spray struck her face both refreshing and freezing. Behind her mountains loomed, their jagged peaks reaching for the sky. And to the west sank the golden sun, its rays turning the water to amber.

The cold lands stood not far from the Northern Wastes and were just as desolate if not more so. Here the dragons of Morgoth had been led and here many had been slain. Their bones littered the ground and great white skulls would loom out of the mist, memories of ancient times. Ruins were all that was left of the cities that once stood there. It had no name but Nyx's, Ohtavailë, The Battle Wind.

Nyx gazed across the sea, which roared and thrashed, seeking for a glimpse of her home. Caranthir had ruled these lands once. Now those lands lay drowned but it was said that across the waves stood Himring. An island surrounded by wind and water. Her home.

But Nyx had lost that home. It had burned after Azâghal had died. It was one of her many losses. Losses that ate at her heart and slowly broke her. For years, she had ignored the growing pain of loss. The growing ache in her heart. Her father's death had been forgotten in the darkness of Angband. Those thousands who died in war forgotten as she fought.

However, she could not run forever from the sting of grief. Her mother had been first. Though she did not remember her mother, Nyx had always noticed the absence of Nerdanel. Noticed that she had only one parent and had only a name to remember her mother by. For as Nerdanel faded after giving birth to Nyx, she had given her a name. Velcanyxa. Sharp Flame.

Her father had been next. He, she remembered. How he had taught her, raised her, led her and her brothers to Middle-Earth. She recalled how her siblings and her had gone to his side as he died. She remembered holding his hand, begging him to stay with them. She had been only 47 then. Full grown but still a child in truth. Angband had hardened and burned away the child in her however. She simply couldn't remain a child.

Then the battles. So many of them. So many dead, their blood watering the ground. Bodies that littered the ground so throughly, the ground could not even be seen beneath her feet. How after the Nírnaeth, the orcs had made a mound of the bodies. A hill seen for miles around. And however much she tried to forget those killed both by Morgoth and her, the blood on her hands never came off.

Caranthir, Curufin and Celegorm came next. Brought down as they sought the Silmaril. By arrow and spear and sword. Gone in the blink of an eye.

Amrod and Amras had followed their brothers. Killed in Sirion as they again sought the jewel of their father. Arrows straight through their chests. She had found them dead, side by side just as they had been in life, hands reaching for each other. The brothers who had done their best to make her happy, who had hunted with her, who had been her partners in crime.