First Rising

            Maedhros stopped just inside the walls of his brother’s keep, his attention caught by Maglor standing atop the wall near the gates, peering westward.

            “And just what do you expect to see, gwador nín?” he asked.

            Maglor shrugged.  “I have been moved tonight to give Elros and Elrond a lesson on the stars”

            Maedhros looked about the area near the gate.  “The Sun will set soon.  Where are they?”

            “Elros is in the stable, caring for his horse before he joins me.  And I believe that Elrond is at his studies, reading again the codex you brought about a sunround past regarding Finrod Felagund and how he came to join Beren and Lúthien on the quest to retrieve at least one Silmaril from Morgoth’s Iron Crown, and how it led to his own death and to the maiming and death and eventual rehousing in a mortal body of Beren that he might live out a lifetime with his beloved Tinúviel.  It is a story that moves him deeply.”

            Maglor sighed before continuing, “I know not why you bring codices such as these here, to tease the two of them with the histories of their forebears.  Years ago it was the story of their own mother, driven out of the tower of Tirion by us, falling to her death in the sea below.  Now it is the tale of Beren and Lúthien.  Who knows to what romantic expectations such tales might give birth in their hearts?”

            Maedhros shook his head, reluctant acceptance in his own eyes.  “Do you believe they should remain in ignorance of their families’ griefs and triumphs, brother?  There was a time when you would have composed odes to them, to the daughter of Thingol and the Maia Melian, or to the grandson of Tirgon of Gondolin and his family.”

            Maglor’s face blanched with grief.  “But we were to blame for their mother’s death!  Or have you forgotten?”

            They heard a door close as Elrond emerged from the house and the door to the stable slide shut as Elros left his horse.  Under the ruddy glow of the sunset they came to the stairs to the wall and looked upwards to their guardian.  “You would have us come up there?” asked Elrond.

            “Welcome, Uncle,” Elros said to Maedhros.  “Are you to assist in tonight’s lesson?”

            Maglor gave a small, pained laugh.  “Yes, come up to me, and bring my gwador with you.”

            As the sons of Eärendil and Elwing led their nominal uncle up the stairway to the top or the wall, Maedhros asked Elros, “I understand that you rode out today.  Where did you go?”

            Elros did not look at either of Féanor’s sons as he said in a decidedly neutral voice, “There is a settlement of Edaín some two marks from here.  I have been visiting them so as to learn of them and to assist them as I can as they build homes suitable to the climate and their needs.  I help their young ones to set traps for food and furs, and hunt with their men and plant with their women.  They are most grateful for my assistance.”

            It was plain to Maedhros that this was a somewhat sore subject between Elros and Maglor, although he sensed his brother was careful not to criticize Elros’s interest in his grandfather’s people.  It would perhaps be impolitic to comment further on the young ellon’s interest in the mortals’ doings, he decided.

            Together, the four of them took in the glory of the sunset.  “Arien seeks her rest,” Maglor finally said, “on this day when the lengths of the daylight and the darkness of night are the same, as the year moves to the time of the springing of the new growth of plants and most animals.  Tell me, what stars cannot be seen now that we could see in the height of winter?”

            “Menelcamar will soon pass beyond the horizon,” Elrond noted.

            Between the two Peredhil youths they named several more constellations and stars that could or soon would no longer be perceived as the sun sank beneath the horizon and the sunset’s glow faded—or at least ought to have faded.  But as the fiery colors died, the light grew not less, but instead brighter, no longer ruddy but mithril pure; and above the western horizon rose a new star unseen until that moment, one brighter than the rest, and so low its bark could be perceived by the naked eye.  Behind and below it there flew a great albatross escorted by a flight of eagles of greater size than were normal to the mortal lands, and the four upon the wall stood, caught in the wonder of it all.

            “Naneth!” Elrond murmured.

            But Elros was shouting out, “It’s our adar there, and his ship!  But it is not solid as it was when he left us—it is now of crystal!  And he has the stone of Nana’s necklace bound upon his brow!”

            “But—how?” Maglor demanded.  “We saw her fall into the sea below us!”

            Elrond shook his head.  “Did you not know that our naneth could take the form of a great sea bird?  I thought I saw her rise up and fly into the west after her leap from the window!”

            Elros took in a great gulp of air.  “Then she survived, and found our adar, and the two of them found their way to the Undying Lands to the Belaín, and now help will come to us against the Black Enemy at the last!”

            All stood upon the wall, staring upwards as the crystalline ship above them rose higher and higher and sped eastward faster than any other star could move within the heights of the heavens.  At last it turned, far east of them.

            But the great albatross and its train of great Eagles remained circling over them until the new starship returned at a more normal pace to pause briefly over Maglor’s keep, the birds now rising to greet Elwing’s husband as he came to pass westward again over the Sundering Sea to their new home.

            “That is why they did not return to us,” Elrond said.  “They could not—not if our adar is to serve as the star of Hope.”    

            Maglor was nodding.  “Now our Gilestel indeed!”

            The feeling of relief that Maedhros experienced was so great he almost fell.  He had not realized the tension his body had held for all of these sunrounds since he and his brothers had sworn that terrible oath demanded of them by their atar, all those yeni past. 

            For the first time since Féanáro led the march of the rebels from Tirion toward Olmë’s capitol and the Helcaraxë, his remaining sons felt estel rise within their hearts.

            A few days later Maedhros and Elwing’s sons descended from the upper story of Maglor’s house when they heard the strike of Maglor’s fingers upon his harp.  They paused as they heard several chords being tried before he found the one he felt best,  He had been composing a new song, they realized, as he played it through, pausing now and then to correct the strain of it.  Finally he seemed pleased with the song he’d wrought, and he began to sing:  

“The leaves were long, the grass was green,

the hemlock-umbels tall and fair,

and in the glade a light was seen

of stars in shadow shimmering. 

Tinúviel was dancing there….”