Chapter 06: First Contact

[dustinrstrong]

The next morning, Taurensil sent the shore party back to the ship with the news that the Noldor had come.  He and Shaelina would find their camp and make contact with their High King.  But this plan was easier said than done.  Telemire was reluctant to go back.  His reasons were not entirely clear.

Over the next several days, Shaelina and Taurensil struggled to learn Telemire's language, and he theirs.  But Shaelina had a gift for tongues.  She quickly learned the dialect, and soon she began to speak Telemire's Quenya tongue.  Then she and Taurensil began to learn of Telemire's story.  They learned how Morgoth had stolen the prized possessions of his High King, Feanor, and how his was a war of vengeance, not of deliverance; they learned of the burning of the ships at Drengist and the betrayal of the Host of Fingolfin; and they learned of Telemire's banishment from the Host of Feanor.

Though he was not comfortable in doing so, Telemire agreed to show Taurensil and Shaelina where Feanor's host had made their camp, but he would not go into the camp itself.  Over the next week, he led the two Sindar across Dor-Lomin and across the northern foothills of the Mountains of Mithrim.  What lay before them was unimaginable, a huge encampment of thousands of Noldor.  If this was only a small portion of the Noldor host, thought Taurensil, they must be mighty indeed.  For it appeared that no army in Beleriand could hope to stand up to such power.

Telemire pointed to the center of the great encampment, showing the Sindar Feanor's court, but warned them that his was a will of stone and will not be persuaded from its course.  Nevertheless, Taurensil decided that he must try.  He had been absent from Eglarest's defenses for too long and Cirdan's havens may not last much longer, if they still existed at all. 

Cautiously, the trio made their way toward the encampment.  As they neared, a Noldor sentry appeared and challenged them.  Telemire stepped forward and the sentry, recognizing him immediately, drew his sword and called out for what must have been his captain.  Shortly, a half dozen more Noldor warriors approached and Telemire instantly recognized their captain, Turenanga. 

Since Telemire's condemnation of Feanor, and his subsequent banishment, Turenanga had harbored a deep-seated hatred of Telemire.  It was all he could do to restrain himself from cutting down his former friend and comrade.  The hatred was obvious in his eyes and it made Telemire uneasy.

"What do you want, Oathbreaker?" growled Turenanga.  "Have you come to seek your lord's forgiveness?"

"I have not come for myself," replied Telemire softly.  He did not want to provoke Turenanga, but he was readying himself for just such a possibility.  "I have simply brought messengers from a great kingdom in the south and I wish them presented to Feanor."

"You are not in a position to make any demands.  I should cut you down where you stand, traitor."  Telemire took a step back as Turenanga began to reach for his sword.

Taurensil and Shaelina did not understand much of the conversation, but it was obvious that there was animosity among the Noldor.  An animosity that Telemire had failed to detail.  The other seven sentries backed away.  The situation was becoming tense as the two Noldor began to ready themselves for a personal duel.  Turenanga had begun to draw his blade when his hand was stilled by a booming voice from behind. 

"Cease!  Sheath your sword Turenanga!  And your tongue."  It was not a request, but a firm command backed by the voice of authority.  Turenanga turned to see who would dare challenge him when he saw Maedhros, the eldest son of Feanor.  "If Telemire is a traitor for speaking out against my father, then what am I?  Do you wish to strike me down as well?"  Maedhros paused for a response, but received none.  "I thought as much," he said with disgust in his voice.  Maedhros, too, had defied his father and protested the burning of the Teleri ships, refusing to take part in it.  But this was unknown to Telemire.

Telemire automatically dropped to one knee and bowed his head in respect, motioning Taurensil and Shaelina to do the same. 

Maedhros touched Telemire on the shoulder.  "Rise, friend.  It is good to see you well.  But what possesses you to return?  My father has not forgotten your words.  Surely you know that this could mean your death."

"I know, my lord," replied Telemire, "but I have news."  He extended his arm toward Taurensil and Shaelina.  "They are of Elwe's kin, known to them as Elu Thingol." 

Maedhros did not greet this news with enthusiasm, as Telemire had expected.  Elwe was the brother of Olwe, the Lord of Aqualonde.  Telemire sensed Maedhros' uneasiness.  "They do not know . . . everything," he added.

Again, the two Sindar could not follow all of the conversation, but the mention of Elu Thingol had peaked their interest, and the tone of voice made them suspicious.  Shaelina was getting the feeling that Telemire had not been completely forthright about how he came to Beleriand. 

Finally, Maedhros gave a series of short, curt commands.  Telemire motioned Taurensil and Shaelina to follow him and Maedhros to Feanor's tent.  Shaelina tried to inquire about what Telemire and Maedhros had said.  But Telemire dodged the questions, pretending not to understand Shaelina's newly learned Quenya.  This evasiveness fueled Shaelina's suspicions. 

Escorted through the Noldor camp, Taurensil was impressed.  In the short time since their arrival in Beleriand, the Noldor had managed to construct a formidable defensive structure around their encampment.  There was a palisade twice the height of an elf along the northern and eastern sides.  The western palisade was still under construction.  The southern side of the encampment was guarded by Lake Mithrim.  Trees had been felled and sharpened, the points hardened by fire, and placed in front of the walls, creating a lethal hedge.

Throughout the makeshift city, warriors were readying themselves for battle.  Spear points and sword blades were being sharpened and arrow shafts were being fletched.  Armor was being polished to a bright sheen and small groups of warriors were sparring, honing their skills in these last few moments before battle.  To Taurensil's trained eye, however, many of these warriors were mostly inexperienced amateurs going through the motions of seasoned veterans, trying to put out of their minds what was to come.  As the party approached the center of the camp, Taurensil saw what he assumed to be the Household Guard, for they were better equipped than any of the others.  These elves had the appearance of being the only professional soldiers in the entire host.

Shaelina, too, was impressed, and saddened.  Although accustomed to the sights and sounds of war, she was still deeply affected by the loss it inflicted.  She knew that many of these valiant Noldor would not live to see the many wonders of Beleriand.  Out of nervousness and mourning, she began to play a melancholy refrain of the Song of Ulmo.  Her melody soon attracted the attention of Maglor, one of the Noldor princes.

Known as the greatest bard of all the Noldor, Maglor became enthralled by Shaelina's song.  He approached Shaelina, but she was unaware of his presence, for he never spoke.  He simply followed and listened to the most beautiful music he had ever heard.
As they neared the center of the camp, a figure of obvious importance emerged.  He seemed to tower over all around him and had a fire in his eyes that was expressed in his movements.  Telemire recognized him at once.  It was his former master, Feanor.

Instinctively, Telemire stepped behind Shaelina, out of Feanor's line of sight.  He knew that his mentor would not be pleased to see him again.  But Telemire did not move quickly enough and Feanor spied him immediately.

"What is that wretched creature doing in my presence?" he roared.  His seemingly good mood had become one of rage.  He began to push his way through his entourage, drawing his blade, and eyeing Telemire with a vengeance.  "I will kill you where you stand, traitor," he said in a cool, murderous tone.

As Feanor reached out and to seize Telemire by the throat, the apprentice did not offer any resistance, resolved to meet his fate.  But Feanor's hand was stayed by a sudden shout of, "Father! No!"

It was the voice of Maedhros.  "Father," he said in a softer tone.  "Telemire has brought us news of a great discovery."  He motioned for Shaelina and Taurensil forward, relating what Telemire had told him earlier.

Shaelina had stopped playing during Feanor's attack and was now listening intently on what Maedhros was saying, catching enough to understand the meaning of the conversation.  It was clear that Feanor was not pleased.

"I have not the time to negotiate an alliance with these people," he growled.  "They are a weaker race than our own.  They swayed from the Great Journey and have neither the light of Aman in their eyes, nor the determination of the Noldor."

"If that determination is measured in the betrayal of one's own kin," responded Shaelina in perfect Quenya, "then we do not, and I shall take that as the greatest of compliments."

She still did not know the full story of the Noldor host's arrival, but enough to know that it involved treachery.  And this was enough to throw Feanor into a rage.

"How dare you address me in such a manner, insolent girl!  I will not suffer the insults of a Moriquendi maiden who knows nothing of war" 

Feanor stepped to within inches of Shaelina, pointing his finger accusingly in her face.  "I have seen the mettle of your kind, and it leaves much to be desired." He dropped his finger and turned away from Shaelina, proclaiming, "Even those Late-comers that dwelt in Aman could not hold on to their most prized possessions, giving them up with little struggle."  In this, he lied, for the fight at Aqualonde had been bitter and had nearly ended in defeat for Feanor had it not been for the arrival of Fingon's host.

But now, Shaelina and Taurensil knew the dark truth about the Noldor and their arrival in Beleriand.  They had known of the Teleri of Aqualonde.  They were the kinsmen of the Sindar, their king, Olwe,  being the brother of Elu Thingol, the lord and king of the Sindar.  Shaelina now felt hatred consuming her, a hatred of the Noldor and their king.

"True, I am not of Aman," Shaelina responded, "and I may be a Moriquendi, a dark elf, as you proclaim, for I have never seen the light of the Blessed Realm, but my darkness lies not within my own heart, as yours does."

"Silence!" screamed Feanor, his fiery blood boiling in his veins.  "Silence your voice or I shall have it cut from your throat!"

The tension was rising in the center of the Noldor encampment.  Taurensil was becoming uneasy at Shaelina's verbal abuse of Feanor and began considering his options for escaping, though not finding any that would end favorably on his part.  For the first time in his life, he became convinced that he was going to die.

But the situation soon changed drastically.  Horns began to sound throughout the Noldor camp as warriors scrambled for their armor and weapons.  Companies began to form up for battle.  A host of orcs had descended on the Noldor, hoping to defeat them before their defenses were completed.

Feanor and his sons began to quickly issue orders to form the host into battle formation.  Satisfied that his orders were being carried out, he turned to a Sergeant-at-arms of the Household Guard and ordered that Telemire and the two Sindar be put under guard and taken from his encampment.  He did not need their help.  He would win this war on his own.

With no more time to waste, Feanor turned his fury from Shaelina and her companions to focus it on the enemy.