'Elthríel listened with rapt attention as Finrod, laying on his back and staring at the clear sky above him, spoke about the beauty of the Trees of Valinor. He rarely spoke to her now, not that he had ever made a habit to talk with her, but this was...
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The sound of clashing swords echoed in the practice ring as Finrod and another ellon combated each other in the ring. The warm sun shone down through an opening in the ceiling upon the two who fought furiously together so that sweat ran down their foreheads.
Elthríel sat with the other elleths who sat watching the combat with works of embroidery in their laps, talking and laughing and occasionally sewing a few stitches. Elthríel, for the most part, paid no heed to their idle talk and already quite a bit of her work was nearly done. Then, something the other elleths were saying caught her ear and she listened intently.
"Oh yes, I quite agree with you, Lúthaniel," one of them was saying. "Finrod would make quite a nice match if he wasn't so stubborn."
"Oh, what do you mean with that, Amtharel?" Lúthaniel returned, a slight tone in her voice that implied her pride was hurt.
"Because he loved this elleth back in Valinor, named Amarië," Amtharel responded, obviously quite pleased with relating this juicy bit of gossip to her friends. But Elthríel's breath caught in her throat at hearing that name again after so long. Fortunately for her, the others didn't notice, and Amtharel went on saying, "They pledged their love for one another, but she did not follow him across the sea, being forbidden by her people. He loves her still so there is no hope for anyone to love him unless he gives up his hopeless passion."
"Pity," another of them commented. "He's quite dashing."
"Oh, and have you heard him sing?" one elleth, with hair like a raven's wing exclaimed. "His voice is as beautiful as those of the Teleri."
"Aye, it makes me wonder what that ellon Daelthron had in mind when he asked Finrod to take care of his sister," Amtharel stated, giving Elthríel a dark look.
Elthríel looked up at her. Amtharel was beautiful with soft brown hair that shone in the sunlight and eyes that were grey like the sea. But her dainty nose and high cheek bones gave her a proud, heartless look when she wasn't smiling. And her attitude to those she deemed below herself went to the point of almost being cruel. Amtharel glared at her for a moment longer and then went back to the conversation.
Lúthaniel was saying, "Aye, but then she is such a dainty thing. I suppose Daelthron wanted someone he trusted to be nursemaid to her."
Amtharel responded, "My thoughts exactly. No ellon in his right mind would choose such a weak creature for his wife nor would he be persuaded too. Daelthron must have been mad, though, to ask such a thing of Finrod Felagund as if he would wanted to be burdened with having to care for such a delicate creature."
Elthríel bit her lip hard to keep back the hot tears of humiliation which threatened to spill over. Gathering up her embroidery work, she left silently, leaving the remaining Noldoli to their gossip.
Once out in the empty corridor that lead to the main passages and rooms in Nargothrond, Elthríel began to slow her pace. The sunlight streamed in from openings in the roof and made square patterns on the white marble floor beneath her feet. Occasionally, Elthríel passed by parts in the wall to her right that opened to courtyards where trees and flowers grew and a warm breeze ruffled the light green leaves. Yet it all seemed to mock her. The beauty that still remained in the world even after Morgoth's power had swept over Middle-earth in the beginning before Elves walked the earth seemed to taunt her, to ridicule the scarred and brokenness of both her body and soul. Elthríel went to her room and put away the embroidery. She could work on it later.
Coming out again, she walked back down the corridor, her light footsteps making barely a sound in the empty hall. Turning a corner, she nearly collided with Amtharel. Stepping back, Elthríel apologized. Amtharel looked disgusted. "Watch out where you're going next time."
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Elthríel nodded and bowed her head in respect. She hoped Amtharel would pass her by and say nothing, but that was not to be.
"So, Elfling," she began. Elthríel stiffed being called the name that was used for infants. "Whatever did your brother think when he asked Finrod to look after you if he should die?"
Elthríel studied the pattern at her feet. "I do not know. Perhaps he wanted to know that if anything should happen that I would be in good hands."
"Ha!" Amtharel scoffed. "Good hands? And why ever would that be?" she asked rudely, pulling up Elthríel's chin so that she had to meet her gaze.
Elthríel felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but she did not answer.
"Answer me. Or was it maybe that your brother wanted Finrod to marry you."
Elthríel felt anger bubble up inside her and it was all she could do to stop from boiling over. With as calm as a voice as she could manage, she answered, "I was held captive in Morgoth's dungeons for many years after being captured wandering in the desolate wastes of the Helcaraxë. I was permanently damaged and weakened. That is why my brother Daelthron wanted to know that I would be safe."
Amtharel stared at her in surprise and released her hand. Once she regained her composure she stated ruthlessly. "Alright, but bear this well in mind: should Finrod ever love again, you would be his last choice. You are weak, timid, and a cowardly little thing. A ruler needs a strong wife to support and help him in his rule. He would never choose you. He will never love you."
With that, she whisked her skirts and set off in the other direction. Elthríel stood there stunned.
At last, she made her way and leaned on a pillar, overlooking the empty courtyard below her. The trees and plants basked in the beautiful rays of the setting sun. A warm breeze blew, rustling the green leaves. The evening song of birds and the peaceful splashing of a fountain in the courtyard garden mingled together. The brilliant hues of red and gold reflected in the marble pillars in the garden below, splashing them in soft shades of pink and purple. Elthríel closed her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek. What Amtharel had said was true. She was tiny for an elleth, but that was not of Melkor's doing. What weakness and fear she now suffered was because of her imprisonment. She had not always been that way. She once had the strength to journey with her brother and to reject her own people, the Vanyar, to follow the one she loved. That seemed so long ago now. Morgoth's imprisonment and the tortures she had suffered had changed her forever.
But then, like a small ray of light that pierced through Elthríel's darkness, a faint memory came to her that gave her hope. She opened her eyes to the fading light of the sun. The words resounded her mind and a faint smile came to her lips as she whispered it to the gathering twilight.
He loved me once.
So! Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I still hoped you enjoyed it all the same. :) Can you guess who Elthríel is? ;-) First to comment will get the next update dedicated to them.
