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The Journey Home  by Fiondil

19: Approaching Storm

In the end, they decided not to bother even to keep the pelts, to burn everything, for the creatures exuded a noisome stench that was quite nauseating and they did not think even curing the pelts would rid them of it.

“There is something unwholesome about these creatures,” one of those responsible for the skinning said to Maglor and Denethor. “I really don’t think I can even handle the pelts long enough to cure them.”

“And I don’t know if Thurin won’t get upset again at the sight of them,” Maglor stated. “I don’t want to have to deal with that every time the hunters bring a carcass back.”

“I’ll tell them not to bother to do so, to leave the carcasses where they fall,” Denethor said.

So in the end they took the creatures’ remains far enough away from their settlement that only the smoke of their burning was visible and the wind thankfully bore it to the south so they never smelled the stench, to which those overseeing the cremations attested when they returned, looking decidedly green.

Thurin became apathetic after that, withdrawing into himself, refusing to play the word games with Maglor or go on walks with Glóredhel to collect more ‘pwetties’. Nor did he join the others in their building projects. Instead, he climbed the stairs of the west tower and stood looking out to the northwest toward Mithlond and the Ered Luin beyond. The rope they had used to pull themselves up to the top of the tower had been replaced by a rope ladder. There was always someone there during the day acting as a sentry who could give the settlement early warning of anything approaching them from any direction.

When Thurin made his way to the tower, Maglor followed him, concerned for his friend. He wanted to ask about Arthad, they all did, but he knew it was not the time to start questioning the ellon. Neldorion was already there acting as sentry when Maglor joined him. Thurin was standing to the north looking out.

“Two visitors in as many minutes,” Neldorion said with a smile as he gave Maglor a hand up. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Maglor jerked his head in Thurin’s direction and Neldorion nodded, giving his fellow Noldo a concerned look. “I could see and hear what was going on below,” he said quietly as he and Maglor stepped to the south to give them and Thurin some privacy. “Nasty business. I can’t imagine having something like that happening to me, to see a friend die that way and be left all alone. No wonder he is the way he is.”

Maglor nodded. “It was bad enough to think that he was alone from the beginning and I’ve wondered why he did not return to wherever he had come from instead of remaining here, but to think that he was with someone and then be left alone….” He gave an involuntary shiver before casting Neldorion a considering look. “Arthad. Did you know anyone by that name?”

Neldorion shook his head. “An Elf? No. I know, of course, that it was the name of one of Barahir’s Twelve Companions, but they were all mortals.”

Maglor nodded. “Yes. When I heard the story, I cast it into song, though I doubt anyone’s ever sung my version of it.” He gave Neldorion a thin smile that held no warmth.

“Perhaps you will sing it for us someday,” Neldorion suggested somewhat diffidently, as if to let Maglor know that if he never sang it, he would be fine with that. Maglor, however, wasn’t fooled by his demeanor. He knew that everyone in the settlement was anxious to hear him sing, not just simple lullabies — although he made even those sound exquisite — but true ballads and laments on which the Elves thrived.

“Perhaps,” he said with a shrug, leaving it at that. He turned to look at Thurin, standing rock still, staring out, and sighed, giving Neldorion a rueful look. “I knew there would be setbacks but we’ve come so far with him.”

“It is discouraging, I agree, but at the same time, it is also hopeful.”

Maglor gave him a jaundiced look. “Do you want to explain that, because I am having difficulty in reconciling discouragement with hopefulness.”

Neldorion grinned. “I’m just saying that, as discouraging as it is, what happened has shed some further light on the mystery that is our friend over there. We’ve learned that there was another Elf named Arthad. Who he was, we don’t know, but we do know that his death and the manner of it deeply affected Thurin. It had to, and because we know this, we can understand better why he is the way he is now. Knowledge, as they say, is power, and the more knowledgeable we are about Thurin and his circumstances, the greater our power becomes in helping him to reclaim himself.”

“Seen in that light, I quite agree,” Maglor said. “I have come to the conclusion that perhaps I wasn’t the sole reason for the Belain inspiring you all to seek the Straight Road. I was merely the excuse to bring you here so you could find and succor Thurin.”

“Do not belittle yourself so, my friend,” Neldorion said gravely. “You may be correct that you were not the primary target of the Belain’s concerns, just a means to an end, to bring us here for Thurin’s sake, but I do not think the Belain see you simply as a tool for them to use or discard at will. You are as precious to them as any of us and perhaps they were simply killing two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”

“How do you mean?”

“They may have wanted to rescue both of you and this was the way they decided to do so. We rescued you and you in turn rescued Thurin. Or you are in the process of rescuing him.”

“Any of you could have been the one he latched onto, though,” Maglor protested. “I just happened….”

“Happened to be the one,” Neldorion interrupted. “Weren’t you the one that said there are no coincidences? I think I remember you saying something to that effect once. So, what makes you think it doesn’t apply to you, hmm?” He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and Maglor couldn’t help grinning, recognizing the truth of the ellon’s words. Truly, what made him think he was exempt from the universe’s regard?

“So do you have any suggestions as to how we bring him back out of his shell?” he asked after a moment.

Neldorion shrugged, casting a sympathetic look Thurin’s way. “I can only counsel patience. It’s no use trying to cajole or threaten him out of his state, but if we let him know by small gestures that we’re there for him in whatever manner he allows us, that will go a long way, I think. He might not say it, but I think he will appreciate our efforts to comfort and console him.”

Maglor nodded and was about to comment when Thurin turned, pointing out. “Ragnor come,” he said. Maglor and Neldorion quickly moved to stand beside Thurin and gaze out. Maglor could see in the far distance several people moving away from the city, though even he, whose eyesight was sharper than most, could not discern individual faces yet.

“He’s returning early,” Neldorion muttered. “We weren’t expecting any of them back this soon.”

“Something must have forced them to return now instead of as planned,” Maglor said. “Well, they can’t get here before tomorrow at the earliest, but I’ll go warn Denethor. Perhaps we’ll send a party out to meet them.”

“My shift does not end for another three hours,” Neldorion said. “I’ll keep a watch on them. When they are closer, I may be able to see if any are injured. It’s the only reason I can think for them to be returning as early as they are.”

Maglor nodded as he headed for the ladder. “Keep an eye on Thurin, will you?”

“Of course. Indeed, I welcome his company and keen eyesight.” He gave Thurin a smile, but the ellon ignored him, continuing to stare out, seemingly retreating back inside himself. Neldorion looked to Maglor with a helpless shrug and the ellon gave him a sympathetic grin as he made his way down the ladder and then fairly flew down the steps, wondering what could have driven Ragnor and the others out of Mithlond so soon.

Denethor, when he heard the news, asked Damrod to organize a party to go meet with Ragnor. “There may possibly be injured. I cannot imagine any other reason for them to be returning this soon.”

Damrod nodded and shortly thereafter, he was off with a mixed group of ellyn and ellith. Maglor declined to go, as much as he wanted to. “I don’t dare leave Thurin alone.”

“Hardly alone,” Denethor pointed out with a smile.

“I know, but all the same….”

“All the same, you’re the best one for controlling him if he gets… um… anxious,” Denethor averred.

“I’ll go back up the tower and relieve Neldorion,” Maglor said. “I can keep an eye on Thurin at the same time.”

Denethor nodded. “I’ll send Amarthamíriel up later to relieve you.”

When Maglor reached the top of the tower, he was surprised to see Neldorion standing next to Thurin with his arm around the ellon, the two of them apparently holding a conversation. He stood at the top of the ladder and listened as Thurin spoke in his halting, child-like manner.

“… long time. So alone. I… I cry a lot….”

“You did not go back home,” Neldorion said, making it a statement rather than a question.

Thurin shook his head. “No home. No more home. I stay. I tried to… to keep estel but too hard… too very hard and I all alone.”

He started weeping then, soft, anguished sobs, and Neldorion held him close, kissing him on the temple. “But you’re not alone anymore,” he said softly. “You’ll never be alone again.” He fell silent and Maglor thought to make his presence known, but stopped when Neldorion spoke again. “Was Arthad your friend?”

Maglor found himself holding his breath, wondering how Thurin would react to that question. It was the one question on everyone’s mind — who was Arthad? — but no one was ready to ask, for fear of setting the ellon off.

For a long moment Thurin did not answer, still sobbing quietly, and Neldorion held him closer. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. Just know that you are among friends who care for you very much and hate to see you hurting. We’ll help if you let us. All of us have lost so much in the long years, so do not think none of us know what you’re going through.”

“He… he my… my brother,” Thurin stuttered, speaking just above a whisper.

Maglor closed his eyes, leaning his head against the cold stone of the ledge, remembering his own brothers, lost to him one-by-one, until only he was left. The sense of emptiness was still there even after all these ennin and he wondered if any of them had actually been reborn or were they still languishing in Mandos?

“I’m sorry,” he heard Neldorion say. “I lost my sister when my lord’s lady was waylaid by Orcs. My sister did not survive the attack.”

“Orcs bad,” Thurin said categorically. “I don’t like Orcs.”

“I don’t know anyone who does,” Neldorion replied and Maglor could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Would you care to join us, Maglor?”

Maglor started, for the ellon never turned his head, though Thurin, sniffing a bit and wiping the tears from his eyes, looked over his shoulder and gestured to him. “Come. Come.” Maglor raised an eyebrow and forced himself not to smile as he climbed the rest of the way up. Neldorion turned with a welcoming smile.

“Damrod has set out, I see,” he said as Maglor joined them.

“Yes. Have you been able to tell if anyone is injured?”

“They’re still too far away for us to say,” Neldorion answered.

“I told Denethor that I would relieve you once your shift is over,” Maglor said as he gazed out, watching the scouting party coming toward them even as Damrod’s party was making its slow way through the hills to the plains below. He estimated that Damrod would probably meet up with Ragnor later that evening. He knew both parties carried torches and if Ragnor saw torches heading his way, he would light his own and wait for Damrod to reach him.

“Thank you,” Neldorion said. “Eirien was supposed to relieve me, but I see she’s gone with Damrod.”

“She and Voronwë are the most knowledgeable about the healing arts,” Maglor replied in explanation.

“Well, if you don’t mind, why don’t you take the southern watch while I continue keeping an eye on our friends?”

Maglor nodded. “Would you like to help me, Thurin?” he asked but Thurin shook his head, keeping his gaze to the northwest, his expression pensive. Neldorion gave Maglor an apologetic shrug and Maglor smiled, not all that upset, and moved around to the other side of the tower. He cast his gaze about, taking in the landscape, noting where everyone in the settlement was. He could see a few people working on the walls and another smaller group working on the aqueduct. Several of the ellith were busy at the two fires that were always kept burning and the smell of roasting goat wafted into the air. Further afield, all was empty of movement. He noticed clouds thickening to the northeast and thought that they might come into some bad weather soon.

“Looks like a storm’s brewing over the Shire,” he said conversationally.

“Hmm…” he heard Neldorion say as the ellon moved around to join him. “Storms from that direction are always bad, worse than those from the west, as I recall.”

Maglor nodded. “We should warn Denethor. I don’t think anyone can see it from the ground.”

“I go.”

Maglor and Neldorion turned to see Thurin making his way to the ladder.

“Are you sure?” Maglor asked.

Thurin nodded. “I tell Denthur bad storm coming.”

“Well, hurry back,” Neldorion said. “I don’t want to be left alone with Maglor too long. He’s very boring company.”

Maglor stuck his tongue out at the ellon, though Neldorion evinced not to notice, merely smiling. Thurin frowned. “Maglor not boring. Maglor good. He keep pwetties when everyone throw them away.” Before either Maglor or Neldorion could respond, the ellon was climbing down the ladder and was soon lost to sight. Maglor saw the rueful look on Neldorion’s face.

“I didn’t think he would notice,” he said, not looking at Maglor.

“He may be mind damaged but he’s not blind or even stupid,” Maglor retorted with a snort of amusement. “You should return to your post. I’ll keep an eye on the storm.”

Neldorion nodded and went back to the other side of the tower. Maglor turned to look out and saw Thurin running to Denethor, gesticulating toward the northeast. He could see Denethor give the ellon a surprised look and then glance up at the tower, his expression questioning when he saw Maglor staring down at him. Maglor nodded and Denethor turned back to Thurin, clapping him on the shoulder, obviously thanking the ellon for his news. Thurin than ran back toward the tower and Maglor could hear him practically running up the stairs. Denethor, meanwhile, was calling everyone to attend him and in moments he was giving them the news. Then the settlement became a hive of activity as people prepared for the storm.

“Denthur say good job,” Thurin announced somewhat breathlessly as he climbed the ladder and joined Maglor, who gave him a smile.

“What about Ragnor and Damrod?” Neldorion asked. “Can the storm affect them, do you suppose?”

“It depends on the path it takes,” Maglor replied. “If it continues as it is, it’ll hit us but the plains to the west may be spared the worst of it. If it shifts and goes around these hills, then they might be in trouble. By my estimate, the storm won’t reach us for several hours, so we can only hope for the best.”

Thurin stood beside Maglor, looking out, frowning and becoming agitated. Maglor wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s all right, Thurin. The storm won’t reach us for some time. You don’t have to stay here. Why don’t you go back down and help Denethor? With Damrod gone, he’ll need all the help he can get.”

“No. I stay,” Thurin replied. “Too early.”

“What do you mean?”

For an answer, Thurin pointed. “Storm too early. It not come now. Later.”

Neldorion came over and joined them, his expression thoughtful. “He’s lived here long enough to track the weather patterns,” he said, speaking to Maglor. “Thurin, have the storms ever come early before?”

For a long moment Thurin did not answer, merely staring out, but then he nodded. “It was bad,” was all he said, or perhaps it was all he was capable of saying, Maglor thought. Thurin’s vocabulary was still limited and he had to grope for even the simplest words to express himself.

“How bad?” Maglor asked.

“I not hunt for long time. I hide in cave. It was bad.”

Neldorion cast Maglor a concerned look. “We’ve yet to experience a storm in these parts. There was that blizzard as we crossed what was once Anórion and Rohan, but that may not be an indicator of how fierce storms might be here in the north.”

“And the walls are not done yet,” Maglor said pensively. “We may have to have everyone come inside the tower.”

“It’s Damrod and Ragnor and those with them that I worry about. Ragnor, I think is far enough out on the plains that he can probably see the storm coming and be alerted, but Damrod can’t possibly know about it. The hills block his view.”

“There’s no hope for it, though,” Maglor replied. “There is no way to contact them, let them know what is happening. We must hope that they can reach the shelter of the hills before the storm strikes. Even if they can’t make it back here they will at least have some protection. Out on the plains they have none.”

Thurin had moved back over to the north side during Maglor and Neldorion’s discussion and now he was pointing out. “Ragnor running.”

The other two ellyn joined him and Maglor could see that Ragnor’s group had picked up their pace, obviously making as much speed as possible. “He’s seen the storm,” he said and Neldorion nodded, looking down, scanning the hills for Damrod and his group, but they had moved around the hills and were now nowhere to be seen. “If Ragnor keeps up the pace, they might reach the hills just about when Damrod makes it down to the plains.”

“We can only hope,” Maglor said with a sigh. “Look. I said I would relieve you, but would you stay for a while longer while Thurin and I go see Denethor? He needs to know what Thurin can tell us about what we can expect from this storm.”

“Go. I will continue keeping watch.”

“Come, Thurin. We need to find Denethor.” Maglor moved back to where the rope ladder was and headed down with Thurin behind him. They made their way swiftly to the bottom to find Denethor entering the tower.

“I was about to come up and see this storm for myself,” he said.

“Thurin says that it’s too early for such a storm and that when they come from the east they are very bad,” Maglor said. “I suggest we get everyone inside the tower, get a fire going here.”

Denethor frowned. “Damrod and Ragnor?”

“We saw Ragnor’s group picking up their pace. They must be able to see the storm approaching from where they are. With luck, they’ll reach the hills about the time Damrod makes it down to the plains. They might not get back here in time, but they should be able to find shelter.”

“Then we’ll start getting everyone in. Thurin, can you go to the spring for me and tell those working there to return now?”

Thurin raised an eyebrow in surprise and gave Maglor an uncertain look. Maglor nodded but said nothing, letting Thurin decide for himself. Something in the ellon’s demeanor changed. It was slight, barely noticeable, but he straightened and there was a light in his eyes that had not been there before, a confidence in himself that had been lacking.

“I go swift,” he said and, true to his word, he ran out of the tower.

Denethor gave Maglor a mirthless grin. “Let’s see about getting this place organized.”

Maglor just nodded as they exited the tower at a more leisurely pace while Denethor began issuing orders to those in the vicinity.

****

Ennin: (singular and plural) Long-year or a Valian year, similar in meaning to the Quenya yén/yéni.





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