SUNDERING – Chapter 4

That season and those that followed found Aegnor often in the company of Andreth, but never without an unseen escort of elven warriors. For naught would he risk harm to this delightful young girl, and ever she was enthralled with the mysteries of the surrounding country.

Many were the veiled insinuations directed at her by her female friends, kindly meant as to one who is being courted. Blushing prettily and avowing nothing of the kind, she nonetheless hoped fervently that somehow the beautiful elf would declare his love and approach her father to arrange a match.

When patrol duties kept him from her side, she dreamed of being held in his arms and loved in the unknown manner of wedded couples. Busy fingers stitching a marriage coverlet, bride-clothes and a pale blue first-night shift occupied her days as she awaited his coming. And, in secret, she worked careful embroidery of her own imagining on a tunic of emerald green for her beloved, employing all her abilities to create a gift worthy of the elven prince.

FA 380

Lake Aeluin sparkled like a great blue jewel set amid dusky green folds of heather and scattered pine trees. Andreth and Beril had been permitted to travel with the joined forces of Elves and Men to visit the deep, clear waters rumored to have special attributes of healing wounds both of body and mind. Bregor rode now as a member of one of the high-land patrols and proudly escorted his sisters on this, their first visit to the remarkable site.

That evening as they encamped by the still, dark waters, after a tasty meal of venison, cooked until tender in a mixture of local roots and herbs and a handful of dried plums, some of the elves wandered to the waters edge to sing the stars into awakening. Their songs told of the time of the twilight birthplace of the Firstborn on the shores of Lake Cuivienin.

Andreth was entranced by the haunting wonderment in the ethereal voices lifted in praise of the scintillating lights sung into existence by Varda the Star-Kindler. Eyes closed, she was swept back in time. Thus it was that Aegnor found her, sitting on an out-jutting rock, her long, dark hair unbound, a look of rapturous delight gracing her lovely face. Behind her in the darkly gleaming waters, stars floated upon the still surface; one especially brilliant spark of light appeared to be tangled in the wealth of her tresses.

Lovelier than any elf-maid he had ever known she seemed to Aegnor at that moment. With a languid blink, Andreth opened her eyes to find Aegnor staring fixedly at her.

Stars fill her eyes, Aegnor thought dreamily, then within the space of a single beat of his immortal elven heart, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of belonging. A beatific smile wreathing his face, he felt the answering recognition flowing from the fëa of this beautiful young girl. Reaching out with a hand certain of his lady’s favor, Aegnor caressed her smooth cheek, trailing his fingertips down to stroke the pale column of her throat. Pausing, his fingers then brushed her slightly parted lips, and bending over her, he reverently touched his to hers. The shock-wave that rippled through them startled them apart, but their grey eyes, wide with stunned surprise, never wavered. Beloved, his fëa cried out, as his heart surrendered. So silver-clear and refreshing this sea of longing for the beginning of their unity; then followed the tiny flicker, which rapidly became a flood of breathtakingly pleasurable sensations that he had never known existed.

“Andreth, thou art beautiful beyond the realm of words.”

Thou. Andreth froze at the implication, that intimate personal term among elves. He loves me as I love him? Then her thoughts turned to the practical; Aegnor going to Boromir, her father, seeking her in marriage, the wondering or envious looks on the faces of her friends, the wedding feast and, only hinted at in hushed tones…the mystery shrouded bedding.

Caught by his intense gaze she noticed a different light within the depths of his eyes that had naught to do with star or sun or moon nor even the fiery light of the Exiles. Rather it glowed pure and silver-bright and seemed to pour into her, melting her resistance like warm spring sunlight on winter’s snow.

Barely had Aegnor spoken when a voice outside the sphere of their existence intruded into their timeless moment. “Aegnor? Andreth?” Bregor strode up with an easy familiarity, grinning at the bewildered pair. With a broad wink at his blushingly discomfited sister, he added, “Father may wish to be included in this scheme.” Grabbing them each by one hand he escorted the bemused couple back to the campsite.

Minas Tirith on the Isle of Tol Sirion

Aegnor came then to his brother, Finrod, to discern this change in his feelings for the mortal female, Andreth. When at length they drew apart into a convenient alcove Aegnor struggled over the wording.

"My brother, strange indeed the new-awakening sense of myself as male and she as female, as a flame kindled deep within that burned ever more fiercely and in her eyes an answering fire dwelt. Beauty there came to her then, in my beholding eye, that never yet have I seen in any maiden howsoever fair. A song of rare mystery was her spoken word, enwrapping my heart, her touch a blaze of radiant warmth. Seemingly entangled in her hair, a bright star shone, reflected from the face of Aeluin. Tell me, I pray thee brother, what manner of Working has been cast over my mind and heart."

Hiding his dismay, Finrod studied his youngest brother carefully before answering.

"Brother, that which you experienced, were it between two of the Eldar, would be the call of fëa to fëa, beginning the dance of awareness of the presence of your life-consort, the eventual joining of hröa to hröa, and in a time the begetting of children.

So that was ’recognition’ of fëa, Aegnor mused, dazzled by the intensity of the experience. How can I have known Andreth since her birth and yet I never ‘saw’ her?

Aegnor was delighted. “Upon my return I shall beg leave of her father to betrothal-pledge my lady, if she shares my thoughts. When long Peace comes we shall wed. Will you stand for me as King-and-sire when the Holy words are spoken between us, Finrod?"

His brother said slowly, "If both were Eldar such would be both my pleasure and duty."

Aegnor in confusion responded' "Yet she is not as we? Are the Secondborn so different?"

Finrod drew a deep breath to calm his roiling emotions. With grave concern he replied, “Alike we are as Children of the One, with soul and body and will to act; in form not unalike and often like-minded, as eagle and hawk."

Pausing he held the eyes of Aegnor before going on, knowing the blow to come with words lovingly spoken.

"Alas, eagle and hawk nest not together; neither do Firstborn and Aftercomers."

Aegnor, in confused trepidation, questioned, "Are we then not allowed?"

"For that I have no answer. By our laws and customs there is neither restriction nor approval, though perhaps the very absence of either bespeaks the lack of need for explanation," Finrod said. "Eagle and hawk seek not the other for a mate. Perchance the same holds true for Elda and Atan."

"Do they not bind also as do we? Even their children seem as ours.”

Again Finrod wished he could avoid revealing the hard truths to this, his youngest brother. "Seemingly they bind alike to us, but after loss of their bond-mate many will wed anew."

Aegnor gasped at this shocking revelation. “How can this be achieved without falling into a state of utter madness?”

Finrod continued, "It is but one manner of difference between our peoples, Aegnor. Whether begetting of children may ever occur in such a pairing, Elda and Atan, is not known."

"Why then should I be drawn to her? If it be against our nature I would seem a twisted and uncanny thing indeed," Aegnor stated in something akin to horror.

Pity for his brother nearly overwhelmed Finrod.

He spoke softly, "Atani are mortal, my brother."

"And what of that; we all may die of wound or grief, yet the bond remains beyond the Halls," he retorted.

"You dwell near the Ladros stronghold and must surely have seen the changes in Men; the sicknesses that take adult and child alike though no wound is the source, the slow withering of strength, hair once dark faded to grey, vision dimmed or lost," said Finrod. "Their lives span not even a single yen, ere they depart Arda for a place unknown."

Aegnor stood frozen in place, not really comprehending what he had just heard. Dazed, he remembered Men, his friends, who had died in recent years. But they must surely have perished in skirmish or ambush, he assumed, just as had some Elves, while holding fast the Leaguer of Angband. Finrod must be wrong. He must!

"This cannot be true!" Aegnor cried out.

"Come then and you shall learn somewhat of the Atani," Finrod said as he led the way out of the fortress.

*******

Several days later they and their escort arrived at a human settlement and were warmly welcomed. While the others visited with friends in the settlement, Finrod with Aegnor behind him made for the edge of the human community. The large cottage Finrod wished to visit was located on the outer perimeter with a spacious garden in which four human females, one scarce more than a babe, now tended the plants. Upon his call all the ladies turned about to see the one attached to such a pleasant voice, and were startled to see a pair of tall, golden-haired Elves regarding them.

With careful steps one of the females approached the Elves. Her face was alight with joy, though a maze of wrinkles wreathed her smile, the hair of her head white as the winter-furred fox.

The aged woman spoke respectfully, "Welcome noble sirs. Would you wish water or wine and a place of rest from your travels?”

Finrod said, "Our thanks for your generous offer, sweet lady, but to meet you and your family is the reason for our journey."

Blushing like a young girl she responded, "These are my blood-kin, gentle sirs, my daughter (she indicated a younger woman with few wrinkles and a mere touch of grey in her hair), and her daughter (this to a very young woman, plain, but youthful) and my three-times daughter (with that she stooped cautiously to lift the little one for their inspection)."

Finrod complimented her on all her daughters, and then asked to know, if she would, the number of sun-years she had lived.

Proudly she lifted her head to them and stated, " Four score and six and hale and healthy through them all. I never lost a child; I bore six strong sons and two lovely daughters for my husband, nor ever suffered a long illness. Our family is long-lived, and I hope to go on several years more before my days end."

Finrod bowed his thanks, unobtrusively nudging his brother to copy his example. He could tell Aegnor was trying hard not to believe the words of the old woman and the effects of time on face and body. No word by mouth or mind passed between them.

The two elves rode back through the encampment and gathering their band headed back along the trail for some time without communicating. Finrod halted, then led Aegnor away a short distance to allow the younger Elf to ponder the implications of his recent lesson.

Finrod offered his advice with great reluctance, "Should you not return to her she may well choose another, a male of her people, and together they would live their brief lives in harmony as the One surely intended."

The grief-stricken face that stared back at Finrod brought tears to his eyes as well. Aegnor broke the silence, his voice unsteady, "Finrod… I… I…" Then in a rush of words, "How do I not love Andreth?" And he began to weep. "So easily then do they forget their love? Breath and sight are empty of joy without her, life a torment to deny my eyes and heart nearness to her, yet you bid me trouble her no more? If not to the Halls they go when they flee the hröar, then whence? There would I go and await her coming. Better swift death by orc-blade or warg-maw than to be riven from her side that another one might take the place that should be mine."

Finrod held Aegnor as his brother sobbed hopelessly until the tears subsided. He spoke quietly, "Aegnor, for her sake and yours I beseech thee not to return to her side."

Aegnor merely shook his head against the pain of love banished, his mind numbed in despair. At last in defeat Aegnor uttered his own Doom, "Never will my heart-song be sung to another. For Andreth I shall await, be it even unto the breaking of Arda Marred! By the name of the Holy One with my oath I bind myself to Andreth, though words of uniting may be unsaid, and hröar never joined and ever parted." Then he slumped against the loving strength that was his eldest brother.

*****

Returned to the Northern Marches was a much changed elf. Fiercely he fought and harried every orc, foul creature or any other minion of the Dark Lord. Gone was the joyful abandon in battle. Pitiless he had become in his quest to assuage his own anguish. Fixing his embittered heart on the dread, reeking plumes from Thangorodrim, he willed the treacherous Vala to emerge from his lair, to be hewn down and trampled underfoot.

Idle time he spent not in the crafting of beauty, but in the perfecting of sword skill and honing his archery arts to an unerring accuracy. Angrod grieved the loss of his merry-hearted brother, but had neither answers nor remedy for the strange malady.

*****

Days passed with no word from Aegnor. Instead of the gaily cheerful banter of her female friends, she now endured the pitying looks from some and knowing glances from others.  Perhaps he is on patrol or kept overlong by his brother, the King, she reasoned to herself, but she remained unconvinced.

Days, threaded together like beads, formed a necklace of a week, and weeks into a net of months, and neither message nor messenger arrived to relieve her troubled thoughts. Did I mishear his words, she wondered, not for the first time. Are the firstborn as fickle as I hear of some Men?

Elves had visited from time to time, but of the golden brothers none spoke; they closeted with Boromir and stayed not to share table and hearth.

So the arrival of a party of elves in the early spring did not elicit any eager hope in Andreth’s wary heart as she mended usable garments for the fatherless children of those who died defending the lands and people of Dorthonion.  

It was, Anthel explained, the duty of the Lady, her daughters and their maidens to provide for the less fortunate among their Lord’s people, as Anthel often demonstrated by taking food to the aged, the widowed women or permanently lamed men. But of greatest comfort was the time spent listening to their outpouring of grief or simple daily routines, and bestowing on them soothing words or a touch that said they were valued and not forgotten.

Bregor burst into the quiet room announcing as he entered that there was among the dark-haired elves, one of gleaming gold. “Aegnor?” she queried hesitantly.

“Sister, I know not, but that they have an urgent message for father.”

Bregor saw for the first time in many months a smile that lit her face, and prayed to the Valar that the news included an offer of marriage. Father had noticed the quenched flame of his eldest daughter and berated himself for a fool in allowing the friendship to develop between the Prince and Andreth. With Beril he would take more care; already she was promised to Hathol of the House of Hador. Though intending to secure a match for Andreth with one of the tall, blonde Men, he was without success. Andreth excused herself early from the Hall each evening, claiming weariness and extended only the required courtesies to their guests.

Bent on assuring himself that Beril would not follow in her sister’s folly, the wedding had taken place before the departure of the Hadorion. Andreth altered the bridal clothes in her heavy, ornate coffer to fit her daintier sister, but the tunic for the Prince would never be worn by her soon-to-be brother. Broader in chest and arms, the clothing, designed for the slim elf, would have split at the seams. So with loving hands and hot tears she laid it back to await a day that might never come.

With trembling hands she placed the small cloak she had been stitching on the lid of a nearby chest, and followed her brother to the Hall. The evening meal was served before the meeting ended. As they entered, Andreth sat breathless, sending fervent prayers to the Valar that there was news of Aegnor, if not his actual presence.

Her shoulders slumped as she recognized Angrod, who’s grim face foretold naught of cheer. At the long sideboard the elves chose an assortment of easily carried food items and a leathern flask apiece, acknowledged the Lord of Ladros and proceeded to leave.

Andreth sat transfixed and unnoticed. Bregor, however, intercepted the elven party and bowing before Angrod, asked quietly, “Have you word of your brother? My sister grieves his long absence.”

“Three brothers are mine. Finrod is much at Nargothrond, Orodreth keeps watch at Tol Sirion and Aegnor is given to bringing destruction and woe to the great Enemy.” Angrod answered without a change in his somber expression. “Does she wish a message carried to one, or all?”

“If you will linger I shall inquire of her intent.” Then Bregor continued, “Father sends her to stay with the Hadorion in hopes she will wed with one of their House like our sister, Beril. Andreth desires, though, to become a wise-woman and gain knowledge from a kinswoman, Adanel, one of the Wise among our people,” Bregor admitted unhappily. “No longer will I be near to defend her as once was my free-sworn duty.”

Bregor motioned to Andreth to join them. Slowly she covered the distance which seemed to yawn chasm-wide and insurmountable. Bowing her dark head she asked of her brother, “How may I serve you?”

“Would you send a message to one of the brother’s of Prince Angrod?” Bregor answered.

Pale-faced and glistening-eyed she gazed up at the serene elf as if waiting for a hint of some shared emotion.

“Lady Andreth,” Angrod spoke low and softly, “Is there aught you would say to my brother were he present?”

Drawing a ragged breath, Andreth responded, “The woods are voiceless, the deep pools without reflection of star, the airs stilled; life has ebbed away from these sorrowing lands, and I go to return no more.”

Angrod stood patiently in case there was more, but with a brief nod of her head, Andreth turned from him and walked away with brittle pride lest she run headlong and weeping from his presence.

TBC (4 of 8)