Heart of Flame: A Tale Of Sauron

Hithlum

Above an army of hundreds, there is a banner. Held aloft above a dark host, it is heavy, but the orcs gather to raise it over their heads in triumph. 

A body impaled on the post, arms stretched across the back. The torso flutters with the shafts of black arrows. 

She cannot live after seeing this. She cannot survive this.

The child's laughter roused his mother from her sleep. Luimëníssë's eyes calmly opened as though she were dreaming only of blackness. Nothing to give the other two ellith in the tent concern. Írissë was playing with Itano, the toddler squealing with delight as she held him high over her head. His dark hair matched her own as did his pale skin, a testament to his Noldor heritage.

"He was so quiet when we traveled across the endless ice, it concerned me sometimes," Artanis admitted softly to Luimëníssë as she sat up in her bedroll. "Do you remember when the first of the heavenly lights appeared? The silvery one?"

Luimëníssë forced a weary smile, blocking the memory of her nightmares with the brightness of her three-year-old son's laughter. "They are calling it Nîlû now."

"Hmm, yes. The moon." Artanis swirled the dark liquid in her cup thoughtfully. "Itano was the first to spy it in the sky where we walked beside Fingolfin over that last stretch of the Grinding Ice. Curled up in that sling at your shoulder, always half dreaming, his eyes widened and he let out a cry that nearly made me jump out of my skin."

Luimëníssë chuckled as she tied a leather strap around the end of her long braid.  "I don't believe I have ever seen you so shocked."

"He was always so silent, it scared me. I thought something was wrong."

"But it wasn't." Luimëníssë gave a shrug of her slim shoulders. "It was only the end of our suffering as we marched into our new land with our trumpets blaring."

Tapping the goblet with her finger nails, she hesitated then held it out towards her cousin. "Here. Drink this."

Luimëníssë arched a snowy eyebrow at her. "What is it? Wine?"

"Yes."

She snorted. "So early?"

"I fear you may need something strong today."

The hair on the back of her neck pricked in anticipation as she took the cup from Artanis and drank deeply. The richly spiced liquor relaxed the tension in her shoulders, but not in her heart. She waited for Artanis to speak her peace.

"You know we are almost to the shores of the great inland water, Lake Mithrim?"

Luimëníssë nodded, cradling the cup in her lap. Artanis took her hand.

"Those of our kin... who came before us to this place... they have made camp there as well according to our scouts' reports."

Írissë had stopped playing with Itano, the child happily waving around a stick like a sword where he sat on her knee. Írissë grasped a protective arm around him and gave a wavering smile. "We will see our other family once more very soon, they say."

"How long have you two known this?"

Írissë and Artanis exchanged a glance. "We didn't want to upset you."

Luimëníssë scoffed. "You couldn't. How much more damage can be done?"

Írissë brushed Itano's hair back from his face. "They are saying that Fëanor's people knew of our arrival even before our warriors attacked the gates of Angband when we first stepped foot in Hithlum."