Fifteen other elves emerged from the surrounding foliage, clad as the speaker with dark or brown hair and similarly dull grey eyes.

Breathing a collective sigh of relief, Huoro and the weary guard relaxed their stance. In response, the other elves lowered their weapons as well.

“I am Síremardo.” The speaker bowed to them. “Welcome to Eyrn Dholen.”

“You have our gratitude, Síremardo. I am Lord Huoro.” Huoro bowed his greeting in turn.

Síremardo looked at him curiously. “You and the one your friends support in the middle of your group are Minyai, are you not?”

Huoro stared at him in surprise for a moment, whispering the ancient word to himself. Then he glanced back at Arafinwë’s slumped form, noting the blood-streaked golden hair that flowed from beneath his helm and smiled. “Yes. Yes, we are. We call ourselves the Vanyar now, but yes, we both are of the Minyai though his adar is of the Tatyai or Noldor and he claims a Noldorin title.”

“We know about the Noldor and they are not Tatyai to us any longer. The rest of you are Noldorin though?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“The Noldorin rulers and lords from across the sea are all gone now save a small few who rumor claims dwell far away on an island with Lord Círdan the Shipwright. Whom do you serve?”

Huoro regarded the nér shrewdly. “The king of the Noldor from across the sea.”

Síremardo crossed his arms, cocking his head haughtily and staring intently at Huoro and the guard. “And who would that be considering the sons of Finwë are all dead save the two or three grandsons who fled to Círdan?”

“Arafinwë Finwion yet lives and is rightful king of all the Noldor here and in Aman though Erenion Gil-galad rules the exiled Noldor in Ennorath.”

“Your king may rule the Noldor, but he does not rule the Tatyai!” Síremardo declared.

“Who rules the Tatyai?” Huoro asked carefully.

Síremardo motioned to his men who surrounded Arafinwë’s guard. “Let us assist you with your wounded, and we will take you to our healers and to meet our ruler.”

“Thank you,” Huoro nodded courteously. Then he and Guilin immediately moved to relieve Lord Sanarondo and the guardsman Ortírion who had borne Arafinwë thus far from the battle, but Síremardo and two of his men stopped them.

“Lord Huoro, allow us to aide you. You are all weary and wounded. Permit us to carry your friend for you,” Síremardo offered.

Huoro met Guilin’s steady determined gaze as they exchanged a barely perceptible shake of the head.

Smiling grimly, Huoro drew himself up to his full height which was greater than that of Síremardo. “We thank you for your kindness, friend Tatya, however, his cousin and I are close in friendship and he asked us personally to look after his kinsman. While any of us yet stand, our honor will not allow us to shirk or share that responsibility. Being honorable ellyn yourselves, I am certain that you understand our loyalty and obligation. I remember the great loyalty and strength of the Tatyai in Cuiviénen and you are clearly great sons of the Tatyai yourselves. Your assistance for the others would be most appreciated though.”

Sanarondo scowled as he released his hold on Arafinwë, but Guilin silenced any protest with a stern glare.

Síremardo smiled in awe and respect of Huoro, offering him a courteous bow. “It is good to meet one who remembers our kinship and our friendship from the Night when we all dwelt as friends side by side beneath the stars by the water.”

Huoro nodded to him as he and Guilin lifted Arafinwë, careful not to jostle the broken arrows still protruding from the king’s wounds.

After a few minutes, the group made ready to depart. “The way is easy from here and you will soon find nourishment and rest. Please follow me,” Síremardo said. And he led them deeper into the dark wood.

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Stars struggled to peek through the thick canopy by the time they finally stopped. The gates of the walled city looming before them were tall, constructed of hewn trees. After a brief discussion with the watch, the gates silently parted, revealing tall buildings of wood and stone. Unlike the large stately buildings of the Noldor which were made of carven stone and heavily influenced by the teachings of the Valar, the Tatyarin buildings tended to blend as part of the forest –as much within it as they were of it. The subtly of their work in wood clearly echoed and indeed harmonized with the gifted craftsmanship of their Noldorin kin. Each Tatyarin building was a work of art unto itself as was every Noldorin building.

Síremardo led the weary travelers to a large house which served as both a place for healing and a place for guests in the settlement. As they moved through a long corridor with many rooms on either side, nissi and neri came forth to stare at the travelers, some taking two reluctant wounded Noldor at a time into separate rooms.

When Sanarondo parted their company to enter a room, he hissed over his shoulder to Huoro in Quenya, “Do not let these wild elves butcher and poison our lord with their primitive remedies. What my wife’s Telerin kin suffered at the hands of the Noldor will look like a common brawl compared to what I will do to you if any further harm comes to him.”

“Do not loose your venom on one whom the High King himself trusts with the life of his own son and heir!” Guilin warned back in the same language. “Your pain speaks for you too much. Be at peace, Sanarondo. See to your own healing and we will see to his.”

“I do not have to speak your tongue to know that he has some quarrel with you, Minya,” Síremardo commented raising an eyebrow at Huoro.

Huoro shrugged as much as one can while supporting half of the weight of an unconscious elf lord. “He has yet to learn that we are on the same side in matters which are of close concern to him.”

When two neri came forth to take Arafinwë, Huoro and Guilin promptly refused to turn him over to their care.

“Lord Huoro, be reasonable!” Síremardo pleaded. “Your friend is in need of aide. Let the healers help him.”

When they still hesitated, he gestured toward Arafinwë’s blood-stained body and bluntly asked, “Will his cousin forgive you if he dies because you failed to allow him the care he needs?”

“Will you allow us to remain in the room with him?” Guilin asked cautiously.

A dark-haired nér dressed in brown robes, apparently the healer in charge, conversed briefly with Síremardo.

“Of course you may remain. The room they will take you to is large enough for you two to be treated there as well.”

“Friend Minya,” Síremardo placed a reassuring hand on Huoro’s shoulder as he passed. “I believe that you, too, have yet to learn that we Tatyai are on your side as well.”

As they slowly made their way into the healing room, Síremardo remained by the door for a time, then whispered under his breath to the lead healer, though the others in the room heard it as well due to their superior hearing being so newly come from Aman. “That Minya has a head injury which has clearly affected his judgment. At least one among them doubts him. The other Minya is too dear to them to be merely the wounded kinsman of a friend. Learn what you can of them and report back.”

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Notes:

If I screwed up anything on the use or explanation of archaic forms of words, my apologies to Fiondil. He tried his best!

Arafinwë – Finarfin

Ner/Neri – (Q) male elf(ves)

Nissi - (Q) female elves

Minya/Minyar/Minyai/-singular and plural and archaic plural of the “first” clan of elves which later became the Vanyar.

Tatya/Tatyar/Tatyai- singular and plural and archaic plural of the “second” clan of the elves, a large segment of which later became the Noldor.

Lachend – “flame eyes”, a term used by the Sindar to describe elves from Aman because the elves from Aman had piercingly bright eyes from having beheld the Two Trees.

Ellyn – (S) male elves

Ennorath – Middle-earth

Adar - father