A Different Kind of Hell [ Silmarillion ] 3

Chapter Two: Sea and Shore

SHORES OF VALINOR

The elven host, split between sea and land, spent weeks in constant march. The sons of Fëanáro led by ocean under the flag of their father. Eve spent most of her time sitting in the swan ship, alone, praying. She prayed for the souls of the dead Falmari and Noldor. She had decided long ago that Eru Ilúvatar and her Christian God were the same and thus he would listen to her. Nothing but praying brought her consolation alone on the ship.

Pityo and Telvo alternated learning to control the swan ship and trying to keep her company. The sea had calmed after the Doom of Mandos had been pronounced, Uinen silencing her tears. At least Ossë had not arisen in wrath.

Three weeks into their northern sailing, half of the ships moved to the shore. Snow dusted the ground this far north, though the Helcaraxe crossing lay a month away at least. But Pityo and Telvo needed more food for their ship, and Eve demanded to see Finno.

As the ship drew close to shore, Eve insisted Pityo help her to the prow. She was a royal lady of the Noldor after all, and she intended to see this side of Valinor before they left it. The mountains of Araman rose in the distance, and dark shores of stone met them from the sea. A small contingent of elves met them as they ran ashore.

"Here, Eve." Pityo offered his help on the left.

She hobbled with him down a plank onto the rocky shore without speaking. Tears ran down her face, freezing in the wind of Araman. But as they reached the ground and the constant sea movement left her, she looked up and saw him.

"Elmendë." Finno's voice cracked as he saw her. The armor she remembered seeing him in during the battle had been replaced by dark clothes and a black fur cloak. She took in his entire form, the form of her husband.

Eve grinned through her tears. "Finno." She moved from Pityo and grabbed her husband desperately. They didn't speak. Eve breathed in the scent of her husband and her tears came again. "Finno."

Pityo and Telvo stood to the side talking to a few of their father's followers who had missed the boats. Those who had taken the march on land had stopped at Formenos and gathered supplies which needed to be spread to the ships as well.

"Your leg?" Finno asked a minute later, pulling apart from Eve. "At least you are standing." He looked her up and down. "The twins did well it seems."

Eve gave a short laugh. "If you let go of me, I'll fall-"

"Eve I am not going to let go of you." He grabbed her into a hug again and kissed her forehead. His own tears fell into her messy auburn hair. "I promise."

"I love you," she whispered into his chest. Eve dried her eyes in his shirt. "You wouldn't happen to have a dress I could change into. This one is still bloody and salt soaked."

Finno chuckled. With a quick motion, he picked her up bridal style despite her objections that she could hobble on her own feet, and together they went to the marching camp. Though without the Two Trees there was no concept to measure day or night, the whole elven host had agreed to rest at that time.

Telvo and Pityo followed after Finno. The camp had been erected with several large tents, the types of things used at festivals and dragged by horses. More than half the elves slept on the cold ground in the open. Fur cloaks had been distributed where they could, more often than not they ended being used by Formenos elves who were used to the cold.

"Seriously, Finno. Findekáno! Put me down-"

"Eve!"

Eve whipped her head around and found the golden hair of Elenwë and Itarillë bobbing through a sea of dark haired elves. Her face lit up and she forgot her complaint against her husband.