HOLLOW: Founding Nargothrond

SUMMARY: Finrod consults Elu Thingol for advice about a dream he has had and the King of Doriath makes a suggestion that will change the course of history in Beleriand.

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Finrod fidgeted as he waited to see Elu Thingol. He was not sure why he felt so nervous. It was not the first time he had sought an audience with the Teler King of Doriath, but this time it was different. How, he could not say, only that it was. Artanis had urged him to speak to their great-uncle, for she had discerned the sense of unquiet that he had kept hidden from all, though he suspected that Melian was aware of it.

He was pacing in the small antechamber to Elu’s study when he heard a door opening behind him. Turning, he felt his pulse race as it always did when he found himself before Elu and Melian’s daughter. Lúthien had an inner quality about her that unnerved him and a dark beauty that enthralled him, yet they were good friends and loving cousins. Whenever he was with her he sensed a deeper destiny than being the beloved daughter of the King and Queen of Doriath, yet he could never quite pin it down, only knowing that her road was bound to be dark yet bright at the same time. He did not understand it and did not try.

She smiled at him as she closed the door behind her. "You look nervous, Cousin," she said in a teasing voice. "Surely you do not fear my ada?"

Finrod chuckled. "Nay, Cousin, I do not, but I feel nervous all the same."

She walked over to him and brushed imaginary dust from his blue-grey tunic cut in the Doriathrin style. Finrod (and Artanis) made it a point to follow Sindarin fashion when residing in Doriath, eschewing the brighter colors and satiny smooth cloths of the Noldor for the muted shades and textured fabrics of their Telerin kin. Lúthien gave him a brief kiss on the cheek and another smile. "You are very dear to us, you know, Finrod, more than Ada let’s on, you and Artanis both."

"Thank you, Cousin," Finrod said with a sigh. "I sometimes think Artanis and I are permitted in Doriath for kinship’s sake and nothing more."

"Nay, my beloved child, you are here for the love we bear for you both."

The two cousins turned to see Elu Thingol standing there. He was tall and regal in a robe of deep burgundy edged in vair. A circlet of white gold etched with leaves graced his silver hair, braided in the Sindarin fashion with gemstones and beads that glittered in the lamplight. His eyes were a deep blue, the blue of a mountain tarn, full of depth yet their surface reflected a light that reminded Finrod of the Two Trees, which only made sense, for Elu had been one of the three ambassadors who had gone to Aman with Oromë. Finrod sometimes wondered if his great-uncle ever regretted never returning to Aman and beholding the Two Trees again, but when he watched him with his Queen and saw the love the two bore for one another, he thought perhaps any regret was tempered with contentment.

Elu Thingol gestured for Finrod to come closer and the younger elf obliged, allowing the King to embrace him and offer him a kinsman’s kiss. "Now, I understand you wish to speak with me, iôn nîn."

Finrod nodded but otherwise did not speak. Elu glanced at his daughter. "Will you excuse us, Daughter?"

Lúthien smiled. "Of course, Ada. I was on my way to find Artanis. We are going hawking in Neldoreth."

"That is well," Elu said, "but take Beleg with you. I do not want you traveling alone."

"Celeborn rides with us," Lúthien replied, " and Mallor will come as escort as well."

"Good. All the better. Now, best be off, child. You do not wish to keep Artanis waiting. I know she has been fretting to leave Menegroth for awhile."

She gave them both a brief curtsey and went on her way while Elu gestured for Finrod to precede him into the study. It was a warm room, with a deep fireplace where a fire burned brightly. The walls were mostly shelves holding scrolls and books. A large desk took up the center of the room but there were a couple of chairs in front of the fireplace and that is where Elu led Finrod. In short order they were both sitting before the grate with goblets of mulled wine in their hands.

"You are troubled," Elu said without preamble.

Finrod sighed. "Does it show that much? Lúthien...."

"My daughter has her naneth’s gift of insight," Elu explained, casting a wry grin at the younger ellon. "Not always a comfortable thing to have. I can never keep anything from either one of them. It was nearly impossible to find a good hiding place for Lúthien’s begetting day gifts when she was an elfling. She is better than my hounds at sniffing things out."

Finrod chuckled and took a sip of wine before trying to put into words the restlessness he had been feeling of late. "This past summer my cousin, Turgon, left Nevrast and came to me at Tol Sirion. Both of us were weary of mountains and so we traveled southward, skirting the Forests of Brethil to the west and so making our way to the Crossings of Teiglin until we had journeyed further south even to the Aelin-uial. We reached there one evening and set up camp where the higher ground meets the meres." Elu nodded, knowing the land well. Finrod continued, his expression troubled. "That night a heavy sleep came upon me and... and I dreamt."

Elu’s own expression became unreadable as the elven King went still in a way Finrod had never seen anyone do. "Of what did you dream?" he asked softly.

Finrod shrugged. "I cannot say for sure, only that when I awoke I felt an unease fill my heart and a sense of doom enter my fëa. I wish to find a place similar to Menegroth where I can take my people and dwell in safety. I do not trust this Leaguer. Morgoth will not stay behind the walls of Angband forever and when that day comes I wish to have a refuge to those who need it."

Elu nodded. "The Enemy is ever restless, and this silence from the north troubles me as well." He sat for a moment, deep in thought, and then nodding to himself, he rose, gesturing for Finrod to join him. "Come. There is something I wish to show you."

Finrod put down his goblet and followed the king out of the study and down the crystal-lit hall. He had not been in Menegroth long enough to know the layout well and in minutes he was hopelessly turned around, but Elu never faltered and as they traversed from one hall to another the Teler began to speak in soft tones. "There is a place, southwest of here, that might suit. Ah... here we are." He gestured Finrod into a small room where shelves were stacked with scrolls, all neatly labeled. Elu took a moment to find a particular scroll and removing it from the pile brought it over to a long worktable and spread it out. Finrod stared with interest at a rather intricately drawn map of western Beleriand. Elu placed a delicate finger on a spot.

"Doriath," he said, then drew the finger down at an angle to the left until he came to a river and a long chain of steep looking hills. "The river Narog. It runs swiftly and has forged a deep gorge through these hills. Somewhere along the gorge are deep caverns that might suit your need. And here." He pointed further west. "This is the Taur-en-Faroth, the High Faroth we call it. It is a wooded highland that should suit your purposes for building materials."

Finrod gazed at the map, a look of doubt on his fair face. "It’s a bit distant from the Leaguer."

"All the better for its purpose as you have divined it," Elu pointed out. "Also, few know of this region, for it is sparsely populated by any of my people and the Nandor have not come this far west."

Finrod nodded. "Perhaps I will take a look."

Elu smiled at the younger ellon, the youngest of all the princes of the Noldor, yet Elu could sense a greatness of spirit in him that far surpassed those of the other invaders. "I will give you some guides."

****

They spent a fortnight making their way across the fair plains of the Taleth Dirnen, skirting Amon Rûdh along its southern flank, and heading deeper into the chain of hills that marked the boundary between northern Beleriand and its sheer mountains and dim forests from the southern reaches which flattened out into flowering meads as one reached the Sea. Finrod had accepted the two guides given him by Elu — Bronweg and Celepharn. They were somewhat taciturn in nature and disparaging of the Noldor but knew their business. Finrod managed to impress them with his humility and willingness to turn his hand to whatever task needed doing, from erecting shelters to gutting the game they caught for their meals. With them came two of Finrod’s personal guard, Thandir and Glorendil. The two Noldor soon won over the two Sindar and Finrod joked that he was feeling left out.

"In that case, my lord," Glorendil said with a wicked smile, "feel free to peel the potatoes for our stew tonight. We wouldn’t want it to be said that we neglected thee in any way."

The two Sindarin guides snickered at that but Finrod merely smiled and held out his hand for the peeler. After that, the five of them became good friends.

Eventually they made their way into the steep hills where Narog came through them in a deep gorge, flowing over rapids though there were no falls. On the western bank they could see the highlands of the Faroth rising above them, the woods dense with oak and elm, with a scattering of maple, birch, and dark firs, which pleased Finrod. The guides led them to the west side of the gorge where the short and foaming stream, which they called the Ringwil, tumbled headlong into the Narog from the highlands.

"There, lord," Bronweg said, pointing to a slit in the side of the cliff. "There is where the caverns begin."

"Let us then make torches and see what there is to be seen," Finrod commanded and in short order they were following the Noldorin prince into the cavern. They had to bend over and enter one at a time, for the slit was low and narrow. "This would have to be widened," Finrod commented to no one in particular as he made his way in.

Then they found themselves in a large cavern and not even the light of their torches could penetrate the darkness that surrounded them. The two Sindar remained at the entrance, their task finished, allowing the three Noldor to wander as they pleased.

"Well, lord, what thinkest thou?" Thandir asked somewhat doubtfully, speaking in a whisper that nonetheless echoed eerily through the hollow of the cavern.

For a long moment Finrod did not speak, merely raising his torch to see as much of the cave as he could. It was dank with the smell of the river outside and the walls were dull and grey and covered with sickly looking moss that gave off a faint light. In short, the place was not Menegroth with its many pillared halls of stone lit by glowing lamps that reflected the gems scattered about. Yet, when Finrod finally turned to his two companions and smiled, they could see his eyes shining brightly with more than just reflected torchlight. "I think we are home."

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Vair: Squirrel fur. It is a blue-grey color and is one of the furs used in (human) heraldry.

Ada: (Sindarin) Hypocoristic form of Adar: Father.

Naneth: (Sindarin) Mother.

Fëa: (Eldarin) Soul, spirit.

Notes:

1. The description of the location of Nargothrond is taken from the Silmarillion, as is Finrod and Elu Thingol's discussion.

2. Glorendil is the Sindarin form of the Quenya Laurendil.