That winter she enjoyed lounging in peace by the fire in his Great Hall. It was quiet and secluded, and Celegorm’s servants were attentive and eager to please her. When spring came she wandered the woodlands and became the Huntress again. Himlad was a hunter’s paradise. It was green and teeming with game. The servants hunted with her and kept her company, but Engner remained behind, detesting the sport, though Aredhel thought it was much more than petty sport. To her it was sacred and part of life and nature.
The seasons passed and turned into years, and still, Celegorm did not return. The forests were becoming too quiet and familiar, and the White Lady began to receive summons from her impatient brothers. Both Turgon and Fingon wished her to return to Gondolin.
“Even now when they are leagues away from me, they seek to give me orders like some serving wench. No. More like a thrall! Oh, and Fingon is the worst. Why was I cursed with brothers?”
“His lordship and King Fingon have good reason to be angry,” Engner jumped to their defense. “You deceived Turgon about where you planned to go and refused all advice. You risked your own safety as well as the safety of others. We all survived, barely escaping with our lives. Only I was willing to search for you.”
“You shall have your reward in full, Tracker!” she snapped. “You are loyal to a fault, but certainly not to me. You are my brother’s creature. If his favor did not depend upon my safety, you would have seen me dead!”
She rose from her chair, fetching her cloak and walking stick. Engner followed, hurt by her words.
“Aredhel, that is not true. I have never desired your death. I serve you as well as your brother.”
He took her hand, but she jerked it back, pausing before she said stiffly, “Never address me so informally again, knave, and never put your hands upon me!”
“But what of… I thought we-”
“We what? Are you speaking of the moment I gave you when I was half senseless?” she shook her head in disgust. “Why is it that from the moment an Elf locks lips with a maiden, he becomes convinced that she is his? I belong to no one but Nessa the Valier.”
“No, you belong to no one but yourself.”
“I will hear nothing more from you! I would have broken my vows with you once. I am glad you stopped me. It would have been my most terrible mistake. I am going on a long walk to decide what I shall say to my sweet brothers. Never mind the cold or the perils of the wilderness. I am a Huntress, nothing in Nature frightens me, and all things are apart of nature. Besides, if something should happen to me, you need not fear. I would be dead as you wished and Celegorm would be the one blamed, for my passing not you.”
“Now I know why they call you the White Lady,” Engner lost his temper. “Your heart is made of cold, white ice. You love only a chosen few and twist and manipulate those others that dare to adore you. You are a frigid bitch and a harlot!”
To his surprise, she laughed, “Strange choice of words, and from one that claims to adore me. I suppose they have multiple meanings. If a maiden is willful, she must be a bitch. If she is pretty, she is a harlot and a tease. Even so, at least I have self-dignity. Words do not make the insults true.”
Aredhel set out alone after that angry speech, leaving the road first thing. Blinded with rage and pain, she walked on for hours with very little care for direction. She came to the south of Himlad and became curious to know what was on the other side of the river Celon. The hunting parties had come as far as the banks of the river but never beyond. Today she was feeling much more inclined to risks and she wanted to put as many miles between her and Engner as she could. She crossed at the ford and continued on, quickly deciding that she would not return until she had seen whatever it was she wanted to see.
She realized that she had feelings for Engner still and now felt that she had treated him unfairly from the moment they had met. She once saw him only as an obstacle and had fought with him every step of the way. Then after his rejection, she had avoided him. He had made several attempts to renew their relationship. There was a tension between them whenever they were together. Each desired the other but were too proud or ashamed to take action. Celegorm’s servants had noticed it and wondered to themselves but did not dare to ask the White Lady about it. If only she had not feared to love and to be loved.
She realized that there was some truth to Engner’s words. She could be cold, but she never deceived anyone. She had declared to the world her intentions, and yet some fools insisted upon pursing her, despite the fair warning. She was still virginal, and because her suitors could not have her, their love became indifference, even hate. Their reactions appalled her and only served to convince her that love was a blissful and cruel lie. Her family history was not encouraging either. Her grandfather Finwë had remarried soon after his wife’s death. She did not blame Fëanor or his sons for hating the offspring of his second wife, Indis. But not even Indis received all of Finwë’s heart. The shadow of Miriel never left him, nor his son by her. Indis received nothing but grief. Finwë wanted her to be a mother, not his wife or consort, and the people never liked her. They whispered that she was a usurper and even a whore. And although she gave Finwë children of their own blood, he always favored Fëanor far more.
Aredhel hunted well that night. She began to enjoy the solitude and the new surroundings. She journeyed on since she was not yet tired of the wilderness and before she knew it, she was enmeshed into the shadows of Nan Elmoth. The trees in that wood were the tallest and darkest in all of Beleriand, their branches entangling and entwining, their leaves blanketed the earth as well as the sky. No sunlight ever pierced through the barrier of leaves to touch that region, and so it became a place of unending night. The forest floor was covered with dead leaves and decay, but there was also the smell of flowers to conceal the stench of rot underneath.
At the sight of the wood, she hesitated, for she received mixed messages from the trees. She was far from Himlad now, wandering an alien forest was unwise. But, Aredhel reasoned, the forest was close to the borders of Doriath. It was outside the Girdle of Melian so she was not trespassing into forbidden territory, and no place could be as horrible as Nan Dungortheb. Also, she felt strangely drawn to the wood. The trees began to reach out their branches to her as though they were beckoning. She passed through the great trunks, and into forest of Nan Elmoth.
Melian the Maia had once dwelt in that forest before the Eldar came, and her enchantments influenced it still. The trees had been younger then, sunlight was not quite so scarce. Melian was Queen of Doriath now, and the woods became wild with their Mistress gone. It was no longer what it had been. A new, less benevolent being dwelt in Nan Elmoth now, using what power Melian left behind to command the trees in his name and carve out a private world all of his own. This more ominous being was called Eöl the Dark Elf.
Eöl named himself among the lords of the Teleri tribe and declared that he was Lord of Nan Elmoth. He was of distant relation to Thingol, but he grew ill at ease in Doriath and preferred to live far from the Caves of Menegroth and the myriad of lords and ladies there. He could not outshine people like Celeborn and Artanis or Mablung and Beleg. He began to mire in politics between the Sindar and Teleri. He spoke against respected counselors and advisers and caused trouble wherever he went, trying to divide the two tribes and gain kingship over the Teleri. His schemes backfired, and he fled to the empty forest of Nan Elmoth with a score of petty servants. King Thingol ignored his arrogance, and the Teleri soon declared him their king and Melian their queen. For that very reason, Eöl often felt betrayed by his own people. They had pledged themselves to the Sindar. In spite, he had few dealings with his kin. The only contact he had was the Naugrim, learning of the hammer and the anvil and broadening his knowledge of metals. He was not a bad tradesman either. He invented a metal that was light and supple and black as polished jet and named it galvorn. He took great pride in his work and often wore it upon his breast.
Even though Eöl was a friend of Dwarves, he was no dwarf of the Naugrim. He was as tall as most Elf-males, though stooped by his smith work. He was brawnier and possessed abnormal strength. He was noble but grim of face and had strange features. His hair was silver, not gray or blond, and his skin was pale, and his eyes were red. The Eldar of those days were uncertain if Eöl was truly an albino or not. His hair color was not quite unusual, but the eyes and ghastly skin were. Eöl rejected sunlight, but many argue this was his choice. He could tolerate sunlight in his youth, and he was quite strong and able bodied. Others wondered if he was a vampire, but that speculation was entirely false. Most accepted that Eöl’s eyes were red because of some rare trait, and his skin pale due to his neglect of sunlight. He seldom wore anything but black, and his adornments consisted of ruby rings and a silver chain. The rubies brought out the color of his infamous eyes and with them he could see much in the shadows.
It was with these eyes that Eöl espied Aredhel wandering among the trees like a spatter of moonlight in that dark land. Looking carefully, he realized that it was an Elf-maid, and a light was on her face and hair. She made very graceful movements, and she wore white robes to keep away the cold. She was tall and slender with skin that was luminous, not ghastly. Her eyes were blue as the summer sky, and her hair was black as ebony. She had parted it into seven braids and wore only a silver circlet about her brow in decoration.
He realized that this maiden was of the Noldoli. Their maidens often wore their hair in seven braids. The Noldor were different than the other Eldar. Eöl hated them, for they had slaughtered some of the Teleri, and he blamed them for the return of Morgoth. He had half a mind to seize her and make her answer for the crimes of her kin. But she was very fair in his eyes, and he desired her. He was lonely and there were few women in Nan Elmoth except among his servants, none that compared to Aredhel. He was willing to overlook her parentage. He would make her a Telerian bride after all and persuade her to relinquish her kin.
As much as he desired her, he could not greet her at that moment. He must force her to come to him. He summoned his servants and ordered them to report Aredhel’s movements to him every hour. He then plotted with them how to ensnare the White Lady.
Aredhel marked her way as she went, certain that Celegorm’s servants or even Engner may already be concerned and would follow her tracks so that they could find her. She also did it so that she could find her way back. She understood the warning signs of the weather better than some. An ice storm was encroaching the region, and it would likely bring snow as well. Such conditions could be perilous, and she did not wish to be caught in the storm. But Eöl’s servants erased or changed her markings as soon as she left them and watched, silent and as secretive as their master, as Aredhel became hopelessly lost.
At first she refused to believe that she was lost. She was an experienced hunter and tracker. Her only flaw was that she was overconfident. She did not like to second guess herself. She followed her markings, refusing to note that she was only heading deeper into the forest, not out of it, and as the sun set in the world outside, the cold began to gnaw through her clothes like an eager lover. She had survived the passage through the Grinding Ice, but she was not immune to cold, and she despised nothing more than being cold.
“I could have sworn that I have seen that log before,” she said aloud after walking a complete circle. “How can this be happening?”
Finally, she began to climb a tree. The sap was sticky, the bark freezing to the touch, but she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up, barely able to wrap herself about the trunk. The forest seemed to have no end. The trees went on in every direction. If only she could see the stars, she could at least know which direction she should go. But the sky was dark and uninviting. There was no moon or stars, only darkness, and it was becoming darker and colder. The moss was unreliable too, for it grew all over the sides of the trees. Cursing, she climbed down and began searching for any kind of shelter. Snow began to fall, swift and heavy. It was a monster of a storm, and almost as cold as it had been at the Grinding Ice. But this was different. She was alone, and no aid would come to her.
A weariness came over her, a weariness that was in the heart rather than in the limb. The snow turned into freezing rain and she was about to give up when suddenly, she saw several glowing lights in the distance. Eöl’s servants were carrying lamps towards their master’s home. She was desperate, and so she followed them, leaning heavily upon her walking stick.
At last, Aredhel came to the heart of the forest, led by the lights. She called to them, hoping that someone would respond. There was no answer, and the lights disappeared leaving only one light. She found herself before a large house with a lantern before its door. She was surprised to see such a mansion in the middle of this treacherous wood, but it filled her with hope.
She fell before the door, and rapping upon it she cried, “Bring me to the lord of the house! I am in need of sanctuary from the storm!”
The door opened slowly, and a river of golden light fell upon her face, warm and inviting. It was also bright, and Aredhel shielded her eyes.
“It is cold and wet outside,” said a soft voice. “Nonetheless, the lady must be thirsty.”
“Aye,” she replied. “Parched.”
Eöl let water flow freely from a cask, and Aredhel caught every drop in her open hands and drank eagerly with dry and cracked lips.
“Thank you, kind stranger,” she gasped. “I have been lost in this cursed wood for days in this weather.”
Eöl stooped to gaze into her eyes. His unusual eyes caught her off guard for a moment. She had never seen red eyes unless it was an animal’s.
“Do not be afraid,” Eöl said. “Enter my house as a guest and come out of the cold and evade the rains.”
“I fear nothing,” she said defensively.
“I fear that the storm may claim you if you remain in it any longer. Will you not come inside?”
He held out his hand. Aredhel hesitated a moment, then she took his hand.
He lifted her to her feet and wrapped her within the folds of his cloak, clasping her close. As soon as she crossed the threshold, a harsh wind blew the door shut, slamming it so hard the noise echoed. Aredhel shuddered from the cold air and broke from Eöl’s grasp, preferring to become familiar with the hearth. She crept toward the fire and rubbed warmth into her cold hands and face. The fire felt delicious after treading through snow covered ground and frosted trees.
“Shall you be needing anything, milord?” one of Eöl’s servants melted from the shadows, a gaunt figure with narrow eyes and thin, red lips.
“I will require many things for our guest. Blankets, a hot bath, and clean quarters. And tell the cook to send a hot meal for two.”
The servant bowed and rushed to do his bidding. The blankets came within a minute, brought by a serving girl, pale as milk. Eöl wrapped it about Aredhel himself and gave the serving girl a look that commanded privacy. She bowed her head and retreated as had the first, vanishing into the darkness. There was very little light in this strange place.
“It is not Spring yet,” Eöl explained. “And Nan Elmoth is not under the influence of Melian’s Girdle. Therefore, our winters are longer and less forgiving.”
“Nan Elmoth? So that is the name of this place.”
“Yes, and it is my humble abode. Ah, our food comes. I can smell Tara’s cooking from a long way off. Let me lead you to my table.”
“Wait,” she stopped him. “I can accept nothing until I have paid for lodging. I am no beggar, but not only beggars can go hungry. I brought only a little money with me, and I doubt all of it will satisfy, but is must do.”
She held out a small purse of silver pennies, but Eöl refused it.
“Milord, you must take this so that I may keep my dignity,” she insisted. “I cannot allow myself to fall into debt. That way no one can point their finger at me and declare: She owes me.”
Eöl took her hand, closed her fingers about the purse, and kissed her hand.
“That is unnecessary. Whatever happened to generosity between strangers?”
“We see such a thing less and less these days.”
“All the more reason for it, in that case.”
“Is it not enough money?” Aredhel was suspicious. “If it is not enough, you may throw me out.”
“Please, milady, you are far too mistrusting. I do not want your money. I have no need for it. One cannot eat silver or keep themselves warm with it. Now come to my table and eat before the food grows cold.”
He led her through the long dark halls to the dining room where the servants were laying out a meal. She was still reluctant to take such charity. It was the last thing she wanted to do, to appear weak. But she ate because she was starving. She took a gulp of spiced wine and set it aside. It tasted bitter.
Eöl must have noticed her subtle sign of disgust, “Perhaps that came from the dregs of the barrel. Is there a certain wine that you would prefer?”
“Do you have a white wine?”
“Of course.”
His servants fetched a cask of white for the White Lady. She took a sip and managed to hide her disappointment this time. She realized that all the wine would be bitter. It was poor quality and cheap. It was then that Eöl began to press the matter of her name.
“I should introduce myself. Perhaps then you shall come to trust me a little. I am Eöl, Lord of the Teleri.”
Aredhel realized with this announcement that she was on dangerous ground. Although she had never heard of her self-proclaimed host, there was strife between the Teleri and her kin. No decent member of the Teleri would take kindly to one of the princesses of the Noldor.
“I see,” she nodded. “I am very grateful to you, milord, and therefore, I will not waste your time. I plan to leave on the morrow.”
“So soon?” his red eyes flashed. “Nonsense! The storm will only grow worse, and even stronger storms are to come. It is perilous to travel unless winter is completely vanquished.”
“Once the weather clears, one of your servants can lead me out of this wood. Then I shall go my own way.”
“If that is what you truly wish, then it is a death wish. The weather is unpredictable in these parts. Now, tell me your name.”
“I would rather you take my money and let us safely remain strangers.”
“I meant no intrusion, milady,” Eöl said. “But I revealed myself to you. It is most unfair that you remain anonymous.”
She ignored him and reached out for her wine glass, and he snatched her hand suddenly. She was startled and a shock of anger went up from her fingertips to her spine. Eöl’s face became a mask, but his eyes burned.
“Come now,” he said softly. “A name.”
He squeezed her hand a little, just to give her an inkling of his strength. She received the hint and found herself beginning to fear him, and she was astonished. Perhaps it was his insistence, his strength, or maybe it was his red eyes and his piercing glance. She hid her anger, however, with a smile.
“You are much quicker than I am. But the days of open friendship are as dead as the Elder Kings.”
He squeezed her hand tighter in an almost painful grip, all the while leering like some great predatory cat.
“My name is Ar-Fenial,” she caved at last.
“That is only a nickname,” Eöl was not satisfied. “It sounds a little peculiar as well, as though it were a Noldoli name. Who are you really?”
Aredhel was reluctant to answer, but he still held her hand, and so she said at last, “Those that know me well call me Ar-Fenial. My true name is Aredhel.”
Eöl knew that name as well as her titles: The White Lady of Gondolin, sister of kings and daughter of a king. He hated the Noldor as he hated hell, and she was of the great houses. That alone should make her his mortal enemy, but because of Aredhel’s irresistible beauty, he swallowed his anger.
“Highness,” he smiled again, “if I had known, I would have prepared a better banquet. How did you come to be here alone?”
“May I now have some wine, please?” there was a trace of resentment in her voice.
“Of course.”
He released her hand and filled her glass to the brim. She thanked him and answered his question.
“I came near this region to visit a relative. He was absent and so I began exploring. I found myself in this wood, and the storm found me.”
“I am most honored to have you as my guest. It is not often that I have royal visitors.”
She curtsied in reply. Then Eöl rose, sweeping his cloak about him.
“I must leave you for now. My servants shall see to your needs. You shall not lack of anything.”
After her meal, the servants led Aredhel to a steaming bath. They provided soft, fragrant towels and a nightdress that came with a decorative girdle. She brushed her hand over it admiringly.
“Your master is indeed generous,” she remarked.
“Always, milady,” they answered. “You will enjoy your stay here.”
They left her and she entered the bath, delighting in the hot water as she washed herself clean. After wandering in the wild, she had begun to feel grimy. Then she put on the gown and went to sleep in the most comfortable bed she had ever felt.
When dawn came, she rose to depart as quickly as possible. Despite the hospitality, she had a strange feeling of unease. Eöl was not abroad during the daylight hours, but his servants insisted that she take a meal. Then they insisted she remain another day so that they could prepare a proper paraphernalia for her. She did not see how she could refuse, so she remained and dined that evening with Eöl. She had little to say, but he had enough to say about himself. The second day the weather was too damp for travel.
On the third day, Eöl announced that it was a holiday and Aredhel grew curious. The holiday was a Telerian festival to the stars and to one of the most beloved of the Vanyar, Varda. The Teleri and Sindar named her Elbereth, however. Eöl invited his small folk to celebrate. A handful showed up, bringing simple instruments and gifts with them. There was a small feast and music which was held in her honor. Eöl introduced her as his guest, allowing her to name herself whatever she wished. For that, she was grateful. Most of his people were Teleri or wayward Sindar and may be less forgiving of her lineage. She watched as the servants put on a performance about the creation of the stars and recreated the moment that the Eldar awoke to see them for the first time. She joined in their prayers, but was silent when they began to sing.
"My Lady," Eöl always watched her closely and so took notice. "Why do you not sing? Sing us a song from your people."
She grew pale, not only because his request would expose her for a Noldoli, but because she could not sing. Unlike most Elves, she could not carry a tune. It was a shame her enemies had never failed to tease her about. The Eldar, especially the Golodrim, set such a store upon beautiful voices for both boys and girls.
"I am sorry, but I must refuse," she said boldly. This turned the heads of everyone there. None of the folk of Nan Elmoth dared to refuse their lord anything. They feared him in silence and obeyed without question. They also wondered why she would refuse to sing praises to Elbereth and were slightly insulted. Eöl was more confused than angry. Aredhel did not wish to displease him or anger the people.
"Forgive me, my lord," she began to explain, "but the wine has parched my throat and I prefer to listen to the lovely voices of the youth here. Is there something else I might do to honor the Queen of Stars?"
"Yes," he said after a pause. "You could dance with me. It is customary that the Lord and Lady dance to imitate the Valar. I will stand in for Sulimo and you shall become the living incarnation of Elbereth."
Aredhel wished there were a third option. She could dance much better than she could sing, but she did not like the thought of dancing with Eöl. There could be no refusal though. She danced with him and said nothing as he clasped her closer than she would have liked. The people seemed pleased but wondered to themselves who this strange maiden was and if their Lord really intended to make her his bride.
The fourth day Eöl invited her to hunt a rare white wolf. He had discovered her passion for hunting and baited her well with a story that werewolves and Sauron's wargs had once overrun the forest of Nan Elmoth until he drove them away. She decided to remain a little longer. She never found the white wolf, but she did indeed find evidence that the forest had been inhabited by monstrous wolves at one time. She began to wonder how Eöl might have possibly driven them away. He seemed to possess a small trace of magic, perhaps stolen from the forest itself when Melian abandoned it. Yet another reason to be mindful of her host.
By the time a month had passed, Aredhel wondered why she was still there. What if Celegorm had returned? What if Engner was searching for her? She tried to sneak away during the wee hours, but Eöl’s servants followed her. They warned that the winter was getting worse. A blizzard was surely coming and travel would not be safe until spring. They would allow her to send messages to her kin to assuage their worries. Then they led her back to the house.
She realized that she was a prisoner. Any messages she wrote and gave to the servants would never be sent forth. She had been ensnared quite cleverly.
“Did you rest well last night?” Eöl asked as he pulled out her chair at the dining table that evening.
“No, I was restless,” she did not sit.
He smiled his slimy smile she had grown to despise, “You must be homesick and lonesome indeed.”
“I was watching the storm, hoping that the cursed weather would relent. It seems to have no end. This morning it looked clear enough for travel but as soon as I had such thoughts the storm suddenly appeared. Rather unnatural, I think.”
“Not unnatural for winter in Nan Elmoth. What is the rush? You have all the time in the world. Now come sit, my lady.”
She sat in the finely cushioned chair with resignation. The table before her was set with wild berries and cream, goat cheese, buttered turnips, and lamb coated with herbs. It smelled delicious, but she had no appetite.
“Why do you only appear at supper, never before?” she inquired.
“I rise same as the stars, not with the sun. That is the way it was and how it is.”
“The sun is a star,” she reminded him. “It is merely brighter and warmer.”
“It exposes all. It is the killer of mysteries and secrets. Its warmth can nurture life or end it. If you were to study the sun, you would find it to be a very violent star. Some day, it will be gone, and so too the moon. But the stars will be there. As many as there are, they cannot all go out at once.”
His talk of dying stars made her uneasy. His eyes made her uneasy. They were red as rubies and seemed to never leave her. He bragged that he had night-eyes, and she did not doubt him. He had proven their aptitude by discerning the colors of her dress in total darkness. Sometimes it felt as though he were undressing her with those eyes. She felt cold all over and goose prickles were on her flesh. She had never been so disturbed by anyone. And yet Eöl had shown her nothing but courtesy and generosity. He only kept insisting that she remain.
“I demand to know why I am being kept here.”
“It is not safe, and I have grown fond of you. I could not bear harm to befall you.”
“I am a huntress, I will protect myself.”
She rose to leave and Eöl suddenly lifted her off the floor as easily as he would a child, pressing her against it.
“I will not allow you to leave.”
“Save your breath!” she snapped. “Had I known that this was what you had planned, I would have never come here!”
“You have the heart of a male, but do you have a male’s strength?”
“Perhaps not, but I have the will of a maiden, and that is better.”
“Always defiant! You would give your heart to no one. I read that in you when I first saw you. Now I shall have the maiden that no one else can have.”
He began to kiss her but she recovered from her initial shock. For a moment, it seemed she was returning his advances. Exhilarated, Eöl gently placed her back upon her feet and loosened his grip upon her. As his kisses traveled from her lips to her throat, she reached for his belt, but not to unfasten it. She carefully took the sword from his baldric and then raised it to his throat.
"Unhand me, knave!" she hissed. "I will remain your 'guest' no longer and I wish to have nothing more to do with you from this day forth! Touch me again and I will maim you until you are an invalid as well as impotent! By accepting me into your home and sharing your bread and salt you must acknowledge the sacred laws of guest right. I will honor you the Master by not killing you for attempting to break those laws here and now. Perhaps in this shady nook you call your home guest right has been forgotten? You cannot demand anything of me I am not willing to give and I may leave when I please! Understood?"
Eöl quelled his wrath and held up his arms. "Of course! I have not forgotten the laws of hospitality. You must forgive me. I forgot my senses as they were clouded by your beauty. I have proven myself to be a lout. Forget I even touched you! If you must leave, I will not stop you."
She hesitated and backed away from him slowly, waiting for him to make a move. He did not. He merely watched her leave the hall. For a moment she thought she had overreacted. It was not the first time a suitor of hers had proved too eager and would not take no for an answer. Perhaps the Dark Elf had truly lost his wits for a moment. Whatever the case, she wanted to leave as soon as possible.
The chambermaid, Tara the cook, and Culnamo the steward were already gathering her things in the bedchamber. During her stay she had come to know the servants a little. Most of them made her uneasy, especially Culnamo. He seemed to be his Master's creature in every way and she got the sense he did not like her. She rather liked Tara. She was genuinely kind and did not sneak through the shadows as the other servants did. She also managed to cook up wonderful dishes despite the limited supplies in Nan Elmoth.
"Our Master told us what happened," Tara said. "Of course, you are still welcome to stay. The Master would like to undo what he has done..."
"No!" Aredhel wondered that they had appeared so quickly. "I must go home."
"You look so pale, Lady," Tara fussed. "No doubt our Master frightened you. You look ill. You must drink this tonic."
"The sooner I leave this place the better will I feel!" Aredhel pushed away the goblet.
"Please, Lady Aredhel. I insist. I put honey in it to make it go down easier. It is the least I could do if you are truly leaving us."
Without thinking, the White Lady took the tonic in one speedy draught, just to silence the over concerned cook. It did indeed have honey in it, but it had a bitter aftertaste, something she had never tasted before. As soon as she tasted it, she realized what had been done. It was too late to spit out the sleeping potion mixed with some other drug. Immediately she felt her limbs weaken and her vision blurred.
"Tara, what have you done!" she cried.
"Forgive me, my lady," there were tears in the maid's eyes. "The Master commanded it and I dare not refuse."
The sword dropped from Aredhel's hand onto the floor and she followed after it. The last thing she saw was Eöl's face above hers as he lifted her up. She could not fight him. She could do nothing.
Before she slipped out of consciousness, she thought of Engner and whispered his name.
*******
Aredhel fled from the house of Eöl blinded by tears of anger and shame. She wore only the clothes that he had tossed her when he was done. She was defiled. And even though she ran south for hours, she found herself before his house again. The damnable woods were enchanted and would never let her escape! She fell to her knees and let out a wail, appealing to the Valar to avenge her or strike her down. How could she live with herself now? She had vowed that no Elf could ever subdue her. She might have once broken that vow with Engner, but she was convinced that she had destroyed whatever relationship they had had. Instead, her maidenhead had been taken by Eöl the Dark Elf by treachery. There was only silence from the Ainur. Not even Nessa answered, the Valier she had prayed to all her life.
“If you will do nothing, then you leave me no choice!” she bellowed. “I will take my own life!”
“No!” Eöl cried. “I brought you here and I do not mean to lose you.”
She cursed him and lunged at him though she had no weapons but her own limbs. Eöl’s servants pried her off of him.
“Curse you and your servants! You could never have touched me without their aid! Coward! You have not the courage to fight me!”
“How can I fight you when my son grows within your belly?”
She reeled with shock. And then she knew that what he said was the truth. Elvin women could sense the moment they conceived. She had been too distressed to realize it. Still, she did not want to believe it.
“You have already had me, why can you not let me go? I just want to return home.”
“My desire for you was not quenched, and I will not let you leave with my son.” He held out his hand. “Stay with me and dwell here in love.”
She hesitated. She could leave this place forever. She could cast the child out of her and never speak of him to anyone. But her heart and head told her that was out of the question. There was a baby insider her. Her baby. She might escape with him, but how would she explain him if she returned to Gondolin? There would be a stigma attached to the both of them, and she was already considered odd among her folk. He would be an unhappy bastard, known only by the fact that he was born of violence. It was also dangerous for a maiden to travel while pregnant. She could not leave for his sake and her own. Even if that were not so, she might never find her way out of this enchanted maze that Eöl seemed to command. If she remained, her son would at least have a father. He might even have a normal life.
She had no choice. She took his hand.
“You planned this from the beginning,” it was not a question.
“It was the only way to keep you here,” he said. “And now you belong to me. You are a Telerian, not one of the cursed Noldoli. I have saved your soul.”
“My soul!” Aredhel flared. “You are no savior!”
“In time, you may come to thank me.”
Aredhel bit her tongue. She could not be hostile to him, it would only cause them both misery, though she doubted she would ever be happy again. There was a small chance that she could learn to respect and even love Eöl in time. He led her back to the house and closed the door. He had succeeded, and it was long before Aredhel’s kin heard word of her again.
Eöl was surprised when Asgard reported that a stranger was approaching his house. It was very seldom that anyone approached the woods of Nan Elmoth, especially without his knowledge. Usually he would have simply ignored such a presence in his realm. One Elf was nothing. But this traveler was a clever tracker and had managed to find the house. Apparently this stranger was Noldoli. He looked as though he had not slept or washed in days. He had brought several companions, and all of them bore the seven pointed star upon their breasts. Eöl knew that sigil and scowled.
“What are your kind doing here?” he snarled.
“Forgive me if we trespass, sir-”
“I am Eöl Lord of the Teleri! Address me as such!”
The stranger hesitated, and Eöl noticed with irritation that the guards snickered. They knew who he was and treated him as a capital joke.
“My lord,” the stranger began again, “my name is Engner. We are searching for Aredhel Ar-Fenial. It is said that she was seen wandering in this direction. She is a tall maiden with dark hair and blue eyes. She was clothed in white.”
“I have seen no one,” Eöl lied.
“Are you certain?” Engner’s voice was strained. “This maiden is the sister of King Turgon, he will reward you well for any information you have concerning her, and I will personally be grateful. I am fond of the White Lady, and it was my solemn vow to be her guide and guard.”
Eöl looked into the tracker’s eyes and saw that Aredhel was more to him than his dutiful liege. He ground his teeth and considered killing him and the servants of Fëanor he bore with him. They were his enemies after all, and it would discourage any others from searching for Aredhel. But the servants of Celegorm were veterans of battle, no doubt they were at the Havens and fought the armies of Morgoth since then. They bore good Noldoli steel and the look of grim warriors. Some even looked cruel and returned Eöl’s resentment. Eöl was a blacksmith, and though blacksmiths often had good knowledge of swords and swordplay, he was no master. Moreover his servants were entirely ignorant and few in number. Blood would be spilt, most likely his own, so he decided if he simply told them Aredhel was not there and they found no trace, they would have no reason to search here again.
“I am quite certain the maiden you seek is not here and never was here.”
Engner looked crushed. He was silent for a long while, then he nodded. “I apologize for disturbing you. We will keep searching the woods for signs of her, no more. We will not return again.”
“I wish you good fortune in your search.”
With that, the party left. Engner searched for many months for Aredhel as desperately as he had in Nan Dungortheb. He was angry with himself that he had allowed her to wander so far alone and never searched sooner all because of wounded pride. He was convinced she was alive somewhere, but after some time the servants of Celegorm abandoned the search, believing she was truly lost. Engner searched still for years until finally he returned to Gondolin, utterly dejected. King Turgon could not blame him for Aredhel’s disappearance and instead honored him with a lordship for his former service in saving Aredhel from Nan Dungortheb and for bringing him what news he could of her fate. But this was little comfort to Engner. He remained in the city but rarely appeared at court, mourning the loss of the maiden he loved forever
Eöl spoke not a word of Engner’s passing to Aredhel. She had become his wife the night before, and she was asleep now, trying to adjust her body to the sleeping pattern her new husband required. He made many demands of her, and some were more difficult than others.
First, Eöl commanded Aredhel to never attempt escape again. She expected that. Next, she could no longer speak her native tongue within Nan Elmoth, and she must shun the sunlight as did he. She accepted these terms, but when Eöl demanded that she renounce and cut off all ties with her kin, she became angry and rebellious.
“That I will never do!” she hissed. “You may keep me here by using my child, ravage my body and crush my spirit, but my heart beats with the blood of the Noldor and no words can undo that!”
“You are my wife now,” he said sternly. “Therefore you must claim kinship with my kin. You are Telerian, not of the Golodrim or the Noldor.”
“I will not deny my father and brothers! I will not deny myself! I curse you and your kin! We stole ships from a harbor and you steal daughters!”
“How dare you defend your people’s crimes and vilify my kin!”
“I cannot be blamed for Fëanor’s act! He is shunned even by my family, and they are our blood too.”
“You will obey my orders or pain will be your only reward!”
“With your son in my belly?”
“Trust me, there are other ways to persuade you,” he promised.
She could not be bitter to him forever and so she obeyed his ridiculous rules. After all, he was now the father of her child, and she desired mirth from the marriage, ill-gotten though it was. Aredhel thought about casting the unborn child out of her many times. After all, he was Eöl’s seed, the trap that sealed her fate. She went so far as to gather and crush the herbs that would end the unwanted pregnancy forever. She mixed them and boiled it into a tea, even put a cup to her lips. But he kicked inside of her, as though he knew what was ensuing. He wanted to live, and she had no right to destroy him. She wanted to throw the pot of boiling tea into Eöl’s face. She decided that once the boy was born, she would flee from this place with him, perhaps stick a knife in Eöl’s belly as a parting gift.
But she fell in love. Not with Eöl, of course, but with her son.
He came into the world rather reluctantly. Aredhel was in great pain, and the midwife feared that someone’s life was in jeopardy.
“If you must choose,” Eöl said, “save my wife. I can always make more sons.” Then Aredhel hoped the child would kill her. No doubt he would be justified in doing so. She had almost killed him. But the birth went well after all.
He was more beautiful than she could have imagined. Once she held him, she became devoted to him and gave him a name in the Forbidden Tongue. That name was Lómion which meant ‘child of the twilight’. He went by that name for several years until Eöl discovered the true origin of the name and gave him a new one. That name was Maeglin, which meant ‘sharp-eyed’, for he suspected that his son’s eyes were keener than even his own. Though Lómion was his childhood name, the name Maeglin stuck ever afterward.
At first Eöl was pleased with his son and praised Aredhel for the birth, for he desired a strong heir for his realm. For several short years he spoiled both wife and son, and he and Aredhel would walk together under the stars hand-in-hand. But as the child grew, he became more and more angry that Maeglin looked so much like his sworn enemies. Maeglin resembled his mother and the kin of the Noldor. Eöl had expected his eyes to turn from the hazy blue all infants were born with to green or brown, the usual eye color of the Teleri. Or even his unique shade of red. But his eyes became bluer and bright, the eyes of the Noldor. His hair grew in dark and wavy and rippled like Aredhel’s. Eöl often accused her of tainting him with ‘bad blood’ and feared that his son would possess more than the look of his mother’s kin.
He desperately wanted more sons, hoping in time he would find among them an ideal heir. Aredhel would not bring another child into the marriage, not after seeing the way he treated Maeglin. She knew of plants that stopped her from conceiving, and so Eöl would have only one son. Much as she had always desired a daughter, she feared a girl would be even more mistreated. Eöl never discussed it with her, but he planned that if a girl was born, he would send her away to be fostered and match her politically in matrimony to gain more land and titles. Though Aredhel was barren, he denied the fact for a long time. He tried harder to make her conceive. He thought he succeeded when her moon courses stopped, but that was a result of the plants. He then accused her of witchery and beat her, hoping it would somehow produce a child. Aredhel mocked him and laughed. He had never dreamed she would do such a thing to herself and take back some control over her own body. That made the beatings worse and he still expected her to bed him. She wished she could blast his manhood as well, but he was wary of that. She despised it more than the beatings. The beatings stopped after a while. The bedding did not, even when he was finally convinced she would never conceive. Even that did not quench his lustful habits.
After the abuse, Aredhel would lock herself away with her son and rock him. The rocking comforted her as much as it comforted him. He was a fussy infant and sickly. Though adults of the Eldar were immune to disease, some poisons, and more resistant to the elements, children were very vulnerable in the first years of their life. It took time to develop the immunity and endurance of their parents. That was how healers came about. Children were difficult to conceive, so they were more precious than any treasure and everything that could be done to ensure they passed into adulthood was done. Eöl also blamed his poor health on the Noldoli blood, but because Aredhel was infertile now, the child was his heir. He did not wish for him to die and become childless.
Maeglin grew from infancy to childhood and he became less sickly. His eyes were blue but sharp, and he developed the hooked nose of his father. In mind and mood he was his father’s son and he could never escape that. He had a passion for metalwork and stones. He was beginning to show signs of abnormal strength for his age. But he had the black temperament of his father. If he did not get his way as a little child he would throw violent tantrums. Not even the threat of Eöl’s wrath would quell them. They only made him worse. Only his mother could calm him. For a while Eöl was convinced Maeglin was too unruly to be his heir but he was relieved that the boy took after him in some ways.
It is known that Maeglin loved his mother better. She was kind and fair, and Eöl was often foul and tyrannical. Aredhel would sit and cuddle with him, and Eöl had little patience for children. If Maeglin did not appear to be listening to him or if he felt the boy was playing too much, he would set work before him instead. He had a great fear of his father in his early childhood, nor did he trust his father’s servants. They always seemed to be watching and waiting for him to be bad and tell his father. As he aged and it became apparent that he was indeed his son’s heir, they treated him with the same respect and fear as they did with his father. However, he spent his younger years mostly clutching Aredhel’s skirts, which Eöl despised.
Maeglin’s happiest memories were the times when Eöl left the house with many of the servants to visit the Dwarves, which he often did, so that Aredhel and Maeglin were practically free. There were several servants left to guard them, but for the most part they could do as they pleased. It was then that Aredhel would call him Lómion out of the servants’ earshot, his childhood name that he loved so much. She also taught him the Forbidden Tongue in secret, risking much pain on account of her husband. Aredhel was stubborn, however. She wanted her son to know his heritage.
Maeglin would sit with her by the fire and learn tales of his mother’s kindred and Gondolin. He learned of Finwë, first king of the Noldor, of fiery Fëanor and his loyal sons, of her people’s crossing of the Grinding Ice and the construction of one of the greatest cities in the world. It was a place of light and smooth marble, of bustling life and lovely mountain valleys. It had seven gates and seven towers and crystal fountains of clear, cool water. Its walls were impenetrable, its people noble and fair, its warriors fierce and fell. And it was ruled by his uncle Turgon the widower who had no heirs but his daughter Idril.
As Aredhel described this city, Maeglin began to dream of it in his sleep. It was everything Nan Elmoth was not. The land of his fathers was a place of secrets and shadow. The only towers were the towering trunks of the trees. There were no glorious fountains, only creeks and rivers. It was a lonely place. There were few Teleri outside of the havens, and that was many miles away upon the Sundering Shore. Maeglin had no play mates. He began to wish that he would fall asleep in his bed and awaken in Gondolin. Awakened by his uncle and beams of sunlight, which he had never seen. He too was restricted to walk only in the moonlight.
He wanted to play with his cousin Idril. According to his mother she was a lonely girl herself. Perhaps she would understand his own loneliness. Aredhel carried a painted portrait of Idril that she had managed to hide from Eöl. She allowed Maeglin to view it at times, admitting that Idril had been like her own before she wed and now she could never see her again save for this. Maeglin loved to look at his kinswoman sometimes gazing upon it for hours, memorizing her features. She looked much like his mother but her eyes were gray and her hair was golden. He imagined it must be as yellow as the sun, forbidden and unique. No one in his father’s house had golden hair. For a long while he thought only Idril had such hair.
Maeglin was Aredhel’s son at heart, but as he grew older and Eöl lost hope of ever bearing another son, he decided that Maeglin would have to do. Perhaps separating him from his mother more often would do him well, he thought. He returned home from the Dwarf-cities to find his wife and son together by the hearth. Aredhel bowed her head in greeting and Maeglin stood up from the floor where he had been playing with the dogs. Eöl was pleased to see that his son’s hair had grown long and he was no longer an infant but a child growing with ease into boy-hood. He did not want to appear too pleased, however.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Maeglin. It makes you look like a monkey. I return expecting to find my son and instead I find a monkey rolling around on the ground with dogs.”
Maeglin’s face reddened, but he knew better at his age than to talk back to his father. Then Eöl softened and patted his head. Aredhel rose to kiss him dutifully and accept whatever gifts he had brought and feign pleasure. Metals from the ground had never been her fancy. She had taken care to look beautiful, wearing his favorite dress and the jewels he had given her upon his last visit home. He approved and kissed her back with real tenderness. Then as the servants served supper the lord and lady spoke of the Dwarves and his business among their folk. Aredhel reported of the goings on in Nan Elmoth and of Meaglin’s progress with his tutors.
“Your mother tells me that you have not been cooperating with Asgard lately!” Eöl turned upon him. “You insist upon learning the sword and abandoning bows entirely!”
“I hate bows,” Maeglin answered without shame. “It hurts my arms when I string them.”
“With learning comes pain. No need to be a baby about it. You are not a baby anymore, are you?”
“No.”
“Then stop acting like it! Your reading tutor says that you are behind in your letters as well. I have seen samples of your writing. They are no better than chicken scratches. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Maeglin did not want to admit that he hated the Sindarin script that the Teleri had come to adopt. His mother had taught him very early the Noldoli letters and warned him to keep it a secret between them. He did not know exactly what would happen if his father found out, but he had promised Aredhel and he was fiercely loyal to her.
“I will try harder.”
“You hardest is not good enough.”
“Eöl you are being unfair…” Aredhel began.
“No! I am tired of you defending him! Maeglin must learn discipline or he cannot hope to achieve anything.”
Aredhel became alarmed, “You mean to start taking him with you to the Dwarf-cities?”
“Aye. The Dwarves will make great teachers. They will tolerate mistakes and bad behavior even less than I, but they will have much knowledge of our trade.”
It was the first time that Maeglin was separated from Aredhel and it was hard upon them both. She knew better than to pit her will against Eöl, but Maeglin was too distressed for sense. He refused to speak to his father and when it came time for them to depart he insisted he would not go to the Dwarf-cities. He clung to his bedpost and had to be dragged outside screaming and kicking and throwing a terrible tantrum. They could not have this upon the road, and if he behaved this way it would be most embarrassing upon Eöl . He almost lost patience with him and would have beaten him if Aredhel had not interfered. She did not fear for herself, after all, but she would not tolerate Eöl hurting Maeglin. Eöl reluctantly admitted to himself that Aredhel wielded the real power over their son. He stayed his hand.
“Maeglin, your father knows what is best for you. The Dwarf-cities are glorious, as I hear tell. It shall be much more exciting there than here at home. You may make good friends among the Naugrim. The Dwarves are not as cruel as your father would have you believe. He only wants you to behave and do your duty. You have been rather testy lately. I have never scolded you because you can be such a cherub at times, but now I must say that I disapprove of your behavior. You will not be gone forever. You will remain with them for as long as it takes for you to learn, that is all. Meanwhile, I am not going anywhere. Not without you. Now promise me you will be good for your father and diligent in your studies. That would make me very happy and will please your father as well.”
Maeglin hesitated, but he had known his resistance was futile all along, “I promise, mamil.”
Eöl breathed a sigh of relief. With Maeglin finally convinced, they set out without further mischief from the boy. Aredhel remained in the house, all alone while both husband and son were absent. Those months when she was alone was the worst. It gave her more than enough time to long for her days in Gondolin. She marveled now that she had ever grown weary of the place and the people there. She came to regret not just how she had treated Engner but all the other suitors she had ever had. She had mistreated almost everyone she had ever came in contact with, believing so cynically that the people of Gondolin were shallow and false. She would give anything to walk in the sunlight again, to sit beside her brother and her niece at the holiday feasts, to be called upon by gentlemen like Ecthelion and Glorfindel.
She also thought of Engner. She had never ceased to wonder of his fate. In the first years of her marriage she had prayed that he would find her and rescue her as he had from the spiders in Dungortheb. She still dreamed of him entering Eöl’s house while he was away in the Dwarf-cities and taking her and Maeglin with him. He was such a skilled tracker that Eöl would never be able to follow them. But of course he never came, and she knew that if he had ever searched for her, he had given up by now. Perhaps he had died searching, and that would be another burden upon her. Things might have been very different if only she had not fought with him that day. Perhaps if they had reconciled she would be his wife safe in Gondolin with his child at her breast.
She began to dare things she had not dared to do in her time with Eöl. She learned ways to get a glimpse of sunlight, to study the forest and learn how it moved and obeyed Eöl’s commands and those of his servants in his absence. She found ways to get around his kinks and traps. Soon it was nothing to stow away from the house for a few hours of the day. Over the years the servants had stopped spying upon her as much. She had not attempted escape for so long and she gave all appearances that Eöl had made her docile and content being his prisoner. Besides, they knew she would never abandon her son. In this judgment they were correct.
As for Maeglin, he was for the most part dissatisfied with life among the Dwarves. The Dwarf cities were indeed amazing upon first sight. The caves were not simply caves but hand carved palaces underground. Tunnels became pillared hallways, the ceilings within important rooms always domed, and the floors always smooth and even. He had to respect the Dwarves’ ingenuity. But he did not love the Naugrim as his father did. He found it annoying that even as a boy he had to look down upon most of them and had to constantly watch where he was going so he would not step on their beards. He saw very few children, and none of them were interested in playing with an Elf-child. In truth, they did not like his look. He glared at them with his piercing eyes whenever they conversed in their secret language and hurried away. He never saw a female Dwarf either in all his time there. According to his father, it was because only a third of their population was female and they jealously guarded their women. The Dwarf-cities lacked sunlight and warmth just as it lacked in Nan Elmoth.
Eöl mostly left him with a very ancient and senile dwarf named Vindalf while he attended feasts and took care of business with his Dwarf friends and partners. Vindalf was a difficult teacher, for he would sometimes forget what he was saying in mid-sentence. His health was poor, he was prone to wetting himself and had the shaking sickness. Maeglin hated having to serve him and secretly hated him too. He played many practical jokes upon him for wry amusement and the dwarf was not clever enough to know what was going on half the time. Maeglin even cut his beard shorter, usually an unforgivable transgression, and the dwarf thought he must have sat too close to the fire and singed it off. It took all the fun out of it. Vindalf tried hard though, and he did teach him important fundamentals about mining and blacksmithing. Even though Maeglin treated him with contempt at best, the dwarf seemed fond of the boy. He was kinder than Eöl, offering the lad sweets and never scolded him. Sometimes, he forgot he was talking to an elfling and called him by his son’s name, Veig.
Maeglin spent many years under such pupillage and learned of mining and metals. He even came to love the forge and the supplies used in blacksmithing. He was too young to work alongside his father at his mighty forge, but he could fetch materials and do other things. He came to recognize their traits and uses, developing a talent for finding valuable ores even at a young age. The dwarves said he had the ‘weirding way’ of some dwarf children that could sense minerals amongst the stones and rubble before spotting it. Maeglin always tried to explain that the stones spoke to him through smells and waves in the air. His father did not understand it but was delighted that his son had such a profitable gift and did not stint at exploiting it, even if it meant putting his heir at risk for some scraps of the precious metal mithril.
Against the advice of the dwarves, Eöl took his son on treacherous climbs into the mountains, trekked through dark and narrow tunnels in the mines, and down into trenches in the earth. If Maeglin complained of the hard work, his father left him alone in a pit for a night to teach him obedience and humility. Maeglin began to develop a healthy fear of heights and narrow spaces. His father had very little tolerance for mistakes and such weaknesses. Once Maeglin had tried to toss him a bag of ores while they were upon the mountains. Queasy from the sight of the ground so far below, his throw was too short and Eöl was unable to catch it. They lost a great deal of wealth as they were unable to find the bag or its contents afterward. His father made his life miserable for many days after that mishap.
Details of Eöl’s punishments and methodology in training Maeglin were kept from Aredhel, though the servants kept news of her doings and reported all to their master, Maeglin was not allowed to send word to her. Maeglin strived in all things to please Eöl because he had promised his mother. He missed her very much while he was away but would not show it. He knew his father would not tolerate such softness. There were no other children amongst the household of Eöl and since he had no friends he had little choice but to focus on his work and studies. He soon stopped making obvious mistakes, and if he did make mistakes he became skilled in hiding them. Eöl was becoming more convinced that Maeglin might make a satisfying heir after all
After only four years of such schooling, Aredhel noticed a difference in her son when he returned home. He was half-grown by now. He was taller of course, but there were other changes. He had become more moody but more disciplined. Instead of violent temper tantrums he resorted to cold silence and brooding. He was growing in strength, muscular for his age due to his intense labor, and he was no longer petrified of his father. His father’s harsh punishments turned his fear to anger that he could not act on. Instead channeled his anger into other things, like work and chores. He felt much more at ease when they returned home.
Maeglin embraced his mother and became her shadow again. Both of their spirits were lifted by one another’s company. Eöl had agreed to allow Aredhel time with the boy, so he returned to the Dwarf-cities for a few months alone. It was then that Maeglin noticed his mother vanished from the house sometimes whenever he happened to awaken during the daylight hours. Whenever he asked the servants where she had gone they were just as confused as he was.
“Mother, where have you been?” he asked when she returned.
“Seeking the sun,” she could never lie to him, but now she was afraid. “I should have told you sooner. Now the servants may report this to your father. He forbids us to see the sun.”
“I will tell them I found you within the house somewhere then,” Maeglin sensed her fear. “They will believe the son of their lord. You must take me with you to see the sunrise. Why is sunlight so hateful to father?”
“I do not know, Lómion. It must have something to do with his hatred for my people. It is most unusual for even the Teleri to be so exclusive though. It seems more likely that your father’s eyes are sensitive to the light and he would keep them upon us at all times so he forbids us the day.”
“Will you take me to see the sun?”
“It is quite risky that both of us should be missing at such an hour. Your father would not be pleased if he caught us.”
But Maeglin begged and Aredhel could not refuse him anything for long. They slipped from the house in the wee hours and came to a glade within Nan Elmoth. By some miracle, lightning had struck one of the tall, dark trees of the wood and sundered the mighty trunk in twain until it could support weight no longer. It toppled over, leaving a gap in the once impenetrable roof of Nan Elmoth so that the sky could be seen. Already there was foliage growing in its place, battling for the rays of light. In several years, a sapling would grow and fill the gap once more. Until then, however, Nan Elmoth would be a brighter place. They waited until sunrise. It was the first that Maeglin had ever seen. It was an amazing sight. The sky upon the horizon began to glow and change color. The birds seemed to herald the appearance of the sun. It was not until noon that the sun could be seen from the glade, and he stared directly at it in amaze. His eyes began to hurt and when he closed his eyes he saw wells of fire behind his lids.
“My eyes! Mother, they burn!” he cried and wondered for a moment if his father was right about the sun.
“Do not stare directly into Her,” Aredhel told him. “She is too bright for that, but she is warm and gives life to all that you see. Look at the world about you and you will see the true power and glory of the sun. We will return again tomorrow at noon. We cannot risk more than an hour or two at one time.”
Maeglin looked upon the blue sky and the white clouds. He was amazed at how bright the world had become, and he felt the sun’s gaze upon his skin. The world was an entirely different place altogether. He could never have imagined such stark differences. He also saw how happy his mother seemed in the light. She absolutely glowed. Then she began pointing out the clouds, introducing him to a new game in which they guessed shapes and animals within the clouds.
“That one looks like one of the towers of Gondolin,” she said. “Oh, to be there again. What I would give…”
“Why not go if you want it so badly? Father could not stop you. After all, your family is there. My family is there. Why does he hate them so? And why does he say that I am tainted?”
“You are not tainted! Do you hear me? Your father has no right to say such a thing! He hates them because of the Kinslaying and the Sack of the Havens. He blames the Noldor for all his misfortunes, but he does so unjustly! He would have you and I forget our Noldoli heritage, but you must not!”
“Does he hurt you?” Maeglin had wanted to ask this question for many years.
“What?” the question was so unexpected.
“Does father hurt you?” he repeated.
“I will pretend that you did not ask such a thing. Your father loves us both and he has done much to take care of us.”
“The more you speak of him and his rules, the more I have to wonder. If you hate his rules so much, why did you marry him?”
“I was not given much of a choice.”
“What do you mean? What keeps you here?”
Aredhel hesitated and said with a forced smile, “Your father is quite persuasive. I fell for his charms, I suppose. Besides, if I had never met him, I would not have you. I have found happiness where I had not looked for it.”
This did little to deter his fears, but what else could she say? She could not lie and she could not tell the truth. What might it do to him if she had answered: What keeps me here? You. You are the final and strongest link in a chain he keeps about my limbs. I loved Engner, but I foolishly left him and fell in Eöl’s trap. You are all that stands between me and my freedom. But I am a mother and I cannot ever escape. I married him because the bastard raped me and got me with child.
“Why are you crying, mother?”
“It is nothing. The sun got in my eyes.”
They returned as often as they could to that forbidden glade to see the sun, but they could not keep the secret forever. The servants grew suspicious and spied them out. When they returned one evening, Eöl was waiting for them. Instead of greeting them lovingly, he wore a frown. The servants had told him of Aredhel’s actions, but did not mention that Maeglin had been absent as well, fearing retribution from his heir. He was old enough now to remember their actions and seek vengeance when he came of age and a lord in his own right.
“What news from the Dwarf cities?” Aredhel asked in greeting when they found him there.
“I have been told that you are gone from the house often without any servants or guards,” he barreled through formal greetings and came right to his point. “That alone displeases me. But it is said that you slip away during the daylight hours, Aredhel.”
Maeglin grew afraid, wondering if they had been caught. Aredhel knew that once again the servants must have betrayed her and that Eöl was about to show his dark side, but Maeglin was still off the hook for the moment. She hoped to send him away somehow. She did not want him to see Eöl at his worst.
“Son, would you excuse your father and I?”
“He will remain where he is! Now tell me if what the people are saying is true.”
“Must we do this in front of the boy?”
“Never mind that. You cannot coddle him forever. I demand an answer!”
“There is a beautiful glade,” Aredhel did not lie. “What of it? I have never left the eaves of the forest, have not even approached them. Why should I have need of guard? I am the Lady of Nan Elmoth and have my rights even within your realm. Why should a Lady ask permission of her servants to go out?”
“I have no doubt you have basked in the sun. I see the truth in your eyes. You have broken one of my most sacred rules!”
“I often walk with you under the stars, will you not walk with me under the morning star for once?”
“Do not even suggest it!”
“Why not?” Maeglin was so eager to defend his mother that he forgot himself. “The sun is beautiful and warm. Perhaps warm enough to melt the ice in your veins!”
Eöl gave him a sharp look. Seeing his father’s face darken, Maeglin realized what he had done. He strained to think of a way to reconcile what he had said, but it was too late. Eöl struck Aredhel with such force that it knocked her off her feet. He lifted her by her hair, slamming her against the wall. Maeglin stared in disbelief. He had never seen them even shout at each other before, and there was such violence in the blow, bruises were already forming on his mother’s skin.
“Not only do disrespect me and break my commands, but you would poison my own son against me?” Eöl rasped.
“You do that yourself! I have never said an ill word against you around him nor encouraged it in him!”
He struck her with another blow, “Do not lie to me, treacherous Noldoli bitch!”
Maeglin could stand no more, “Stop! Do no hurt her! Please! I asked her to show me sunlight. She refused and I had to beg until she gave in. It is not her fault! Leave her alone!”
He sprang and caught himself about his father’s leg, trying with all the strength in his little body to pull him off of Aredhel. In annoyance, Eöl tossed him aside, but he had lost control of his own strength and flung the boy too hard. Maeglin could not recover his balance and fell. He bit down hard on his lip, causing cherry red blood to swell from his mouth.
The sight of her son’s blood and look of terror awoke something in Aredhel. She ripped from Eöl’s grasp, summoning her old fire from the ashes of her spirit. She smashed a nearby mirror, cutting her own hand as she plucked up a shard, but she felt nothing. She lifted Maeglin into her other arm and backed away from her husband, eyes aflame.
“You can beat me, but you dare not touch my son, for he is my son, not yours,” she hissed. “I once slew a bear with nothing but a hunting knife when I was younger and still a Huntress. The beast was after Turgon, and he had spent all his arrows. He could not reach for his sword, but I reached for my knife and slit the bear’s throat. Some of my old skill is in me still. All your brute strength will account for nothing against speedy knife work. If you try to harm Maeglin or call for you skulking servants to do the deed for you, I swear in the name of Nessa that I will kill you!”
Eöl hesitated. He wanted to test her resolve, but there was a dangerous light in her eyes he had never seen before. It had been so long since she had fought back or even spoke in defense of herself. It was as she said, he could beat her all he liked and she would not resist, but she would defend the child of her body to the death. She had often cursed him for a coward that he always used his servants to overpower her. Even the White Lady was not strong enough to overcome Eöl when he had an entire household to restrain her. He was confident he could defeat her one on one. After all, when it came to physical strength, he was superior, but Aredhel was quick and better with weapons. He might defeat her, but not without serious risk to her person.
There was good reason he so often used his servants to chastise Aredhel, to keep injury to a minimum and to keep their fights from escalating from behind closed doors into the open. She was still his wife, not a brooding mare to be easily replaced. If he had simply wanted a maiden to bear him heirs and cast aside he had servant girls aplenty to satisfy those urges. Aredhel was a maiden of royal birth and uncommon beauty and intelligence, not so easily replaced, and he loved her in his own harsh way. The servants’ aid was also enlisted to keep Maeglin in ignorance. Even he agreed in the boy’s early years that their domestic disputes should not be witnessed. Now there could be no avoiding it. He had even drawn his son’s blood. He had punished the boy through other means many times, but never had he struck him.
“Maeglin, come to me,” he commanded. “We are leaving.”
“No,” the word poured out from his lips immediately.
“What did you say!”
This was totally unexpected. Maeglin had never dared defy his father before. He had been too afraid or excused his father’s behavior because of his youth and because despite everything, he was his father. But he gladly did so now.
“You hurt my mother!”
“Boy, do you want a beating as well?”
“Touch him and it will be the last thing you do, Eöl!”
He remained standing in place, frustrated that both wife and son were against him now. Maeglin feared he would spring at them and carry out his threats. All three waited, nerves on edge. Aredhel’s hand healed, but some blood still dripped between her fingers. She never blinked.
At last, Eöl broke the tension, throwing up his hands in disgust, “Very well. I can see that your mother has frightened you, Maeglin. I will return when our blood is cooled. This has gone far enough. Make no mistake, this shall be resolved when I return!”
He left the house in a rage. When she was certain that he was gone, Aredhel set Maeglin down and examined his lip. Her hand had healed in a matter of minutes, her bruises would be gone in a few hours, but he did not have quite her rapid healing yet; too young. The cut was nothing. She kissed his lips and then began to clean up the shattered glass, all without a word, complaining that it had been her favorite mirror. Now she must use the clouded one to apply some ointment for her bruises. She seemed suddenly so calm and cool, almost as though nothing had happened. Maeglin was still in shock.
“He hit you!” he exclaimed breathlessly
“He did,” she said nonchalantly. “It has not happened for years. I was beginning to think he was beyond such things.”
“You mean to say he has done this before? But you said-”
“I did not deny anything. It was just too hard to say. You were better off without such knowledge.”
“Mother, we should leave before he comes back! We can go to Gondolin! Uncle Turgon will take us in! We could go now!”
She laughed, “My son, you think I did not try? In the early years while I carried you I tried. When you were a babe in arms the journey would have surely killed you. Your father commands the trees, you see, and his servants would hunt us down. After all these years, my brother believes I am dead and I fear I no longer remember the way to Gondolin. What hope is there of escape?”
“Mother, are you saying you are a prisoner?”
“This is my home, Lómion, and I dwell here not wholly unwillingly.”
She would say no more. She had already told him too much. He was not old enough for such subjects. She hated Eöl for shattering the tranquility of his little world, the notion that their marriage was a happy one and that he had been conceived in love. Even if it had been a fragile facade, it had made Maeglin’s life easier and richer. Now he would only be confused and angry.
The moment they both dreaded came. Eöl returned the next night. Maeglin ran to warn his mother. He begged her to run away. No doubt Eöl had only returned in a blacker mood than before. He would make them both pay. But Aredhel seemed rooted in place. She looked at her son helplessly and shook her head sadly. Maeglin never forgot that moment and tried to make sense of her actions years later. She had not been bound, nonetheless, she could not leave. Somehow, Eöl had gained a powerful hold upon her mind that she could not break free of.
Eöl entered, silent and grim. Maeglin blocked his path, shouting, “Do not touch my mother!” To his surprise, his father brushed him gently aside. He kneeled before Aredhel and begged forgiveness. He wept and kissed her bruises. Next he turned and begged forgiveness of his son.
“I walked and walked for hours after I left,” he explained. “I was so angry, terrible thoughts pursued me. I wanted to return and destroy the house and everything in it. I came to fear myself. It seemed like a madness had come over me when I struck you both. I was not aware of myself. Slowly, I remembered everything that I said and did. I wanted to deny it at first, but my conscience does not lie. It remembers transgressions. You can deny details, but it will not let you forget the hurt and regret. I was gripped with guilt. I especially did not mean to harm you, Maeglin. What happened to you was pure accident. It was your mother I truly wronged. I have always feared that you would leave me, Aredhel. I know that you have not always loved me. I have been quite selfish. I have not treated you as I should. Then I feared to show my face around here again. I half expected the two of you to be gone. At first I thought I would return to the Dwarf-cities and stay there. Perhaps it would be better until I learn to control my strength and rage. But that would be running from my problems, not solving them, and I cannot abandon my wife and son. That would be worse than the first crime against you both. So I ask that you both forgive me. I promise that I will change.”
Aredhel was astonished. Eöl had never asked forgiveness for anything he had ever done. He was always justified in his mind. His tears were new as well. She had never seen him weep in all her years with him. She had never seen this side of him before and he seemed sincere. Maeglin, however, looked on his father in disgust. He had always taught his son that weakness was a sin and mocked him for a suckling babe if he ever wept. He was always unforgiving as well. If Maeglin misbehaved, there was no argument or clemency, only quick judgment and punishment. Aredhel had, unintentionally, reinforced his beliefs. She might comfort her son when he wept, but she suffered in silence and rarely wept herself. She was never a fragile maiden even in the beginning and though Eöl had made her tame, she was still hard upon herself and made no excuses. Maeglin saw his father’s tears as a hypocrisy and he did not believe a word he said.
But Aredhel was moved to pity. She suddenly returned his kisses and forgave him. Maeglin felt sick to his stomach. He refused to forgive him. When Eöl continued to beg, he ran out the door and into the dark wood of Nan Elmoth. How could she? he thought wildly. How could she? Aredhel went after him.
“He is going to hurt you again!” he shouted. “He will do it again, I know it! He is a liar! I hate him! I hate him!”
“Do not say that! He is your father, and I know him better than you. I think he will keep his promise. We must at least give him a chance. You do not have to forgive him, and I promise you that I certainly will not forget and expect him to keep his.”
And Eöl did keep his promise, it seemed. For a year it was like they were on holiday. He did not visit the Dwarf-cities or the forge even once. He settled at home and enjoyed his wife and son’s company. He lifted his ban on sunlight, even visiting the sunlit grove with them once, but he complained the sun hurt his eyes and burned his sensitive skin. He was eager for the roof of Nan Elmoth to be complete once more and never walked in the sun again. Aredhel laughed and teased him. He might have beat her for doing that in their early years, but now he laughed along with her.
One might have thought that she loved him wholly and that he had never once abused her. They acted like such an affectionate couple, Maeglin found it maddening. He was jealous of the attention Aredhel gave his father. Once she had only loved her son. He would not admit it, but he had preferred when his mother hated Eöl as much as he. The Lord of Nan Elmoth took his wife to see the dwarf-cities for a few months as a sort of honeymoon. It was the first time she had left the wood since she had first arrived. She had almost forgotten what such freedom was like, seeing strange new places and new people. She began to feel less a prisoner and more like herself again, though Eöl still refused to allow her to contact her kin. Their time together in the Dwarf-cities was the happiest of their marriage, and she came willingly to his bed.
Maeglin was left alone in Nan Elmoth with only the servants for company. They were the loneliest and most miserable months of his life. He imagined Eöl with his mother and wanted to smash something. For a while he hated Aredhel too for forgiving Eöl and becoming completely submissive to him, giving him her heart as well as her trust. He felt she had abandoned him in some way. His love was greater than the hate, though, and over time he forgave her. But he would never forgive Eöl. Never. All he could do was take out his anger on the servants.
He gathered all of the household servants as well as the small folk that dwelt in the rest of his father’s realm, such as there were, to a feast. As lord while his father was gone, he had the authority to do so. It was the first time he had acted as lord, and so the people were anxious to see how it would turn out. He made himself guest of honor, of course, and revealed that he was growing into a charismatic leader. He was the spokesman of the ceremonies, graciously thanked his guests and paid homage to their families and whatever part they played in Nan Elmoth. He had calculated exactly how much food and wine there should be, and how many musicians should play. Everyone was pleasantly surprised and seemed to be having a good time. Until the night drew to a close. They all gathered their things to leave, as the sun was about to rise, but then Maeglin stopped them.
“What is this? Why leave before dawn?”
“But your father’s commands-” someone started.
“My father is not here. Must you always obey his commands, even if he is absent?”
They were horrified that he would even ask. There was a silence. Whatever music had been playing died down. The merry hours just before threatened to be dampened and destroyed by such talk. Some of the younger Elves began to shuffle away.
“Where are you going!” Maeglin shouted. “I did not give you leave to go! I have questions to ask of you!”
“Little lord, can this not wait?”
“The Lady Aredhel loves sunlight. We all know this. But who was it that spied her out in the glades and told my father?”
“Why should they tell you such a thing?” asked Culnamo, Eöl’s chief servant. “Should you tell your mother, that person shall be punished for certain and for what? The Lady Aredhel is not above disobeying her lord’s commands and we serve Eöl, not your mother. If she does such a thing, it is our sworn duty to let it be known. Your mother is in the wrong, not one of us.”
“Was it you then?” Maeglin pointed an accusing finger at him.
Culnamo grinned, “Little lord, I cannot be in all places at once. I do not leave the house, and even if it was me you cannot prove it. It could have been anyone in Nan Elmoth.”
“Then who was it? Who was it!”
No one spoke. Maeglin had known they would never confess, but he had wanted to ask nonetheless. He studied the faces of each elf and maiden there. All looked guilty to him. No doubt they would all tattle on him and his mother for no other reason than for profit or in the hope of gaining honor and status. Those in Nan Elmoth did not have much. Since there was so little sunlight it could be hard to grow a good stock of food. Some herded sheep near the edges of the mountains or worked in the forge and mines, but no one was extravagantly rich. Most were outcasts from Doriath or embittered Teleri who grew weary of the sea. He had a feeling half of them hated his mother because she was Noldoli, and just as many hated him as well. After this night, some might realize that Maeglin could be just as dangerous as his father and decide to stay out of his affairs and Aredhel’s. But it was the household servants that were most guilty and they were truly his father’s creatures.
“Those of you that must return to your homes deep in the forest may go,” he said. “I apologize for my outburst, I only wanted to know the answer to a simple question. My household servants must join me afterward. Since I would not dream of breaking my father’s commands, we will go inside to talk, of course.”
The small folk dwindled away in their little groups, wondering what had come over Maeglin and what he could possibly have to say. They knew little of their lord and his family. His personal servants rarely left the house and when they returned to their families never spoke of the goings on in Eöl’s household.
“Who was it that reported what my mother did?” he demanded of the servants once all guests were gone.
“You already asked this question-” Culnamo began.
“Silence! You do realize that my mother was beaten for what was said?”
“Of course. No doubt the beating was richly deserved.”
Maeglin looked at the pale Elf in aversion that he could be so cruel and so insolent. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Listen, little lord of mixed blood, my son was slain at the Havens by your mother’s kindred. I care not what becomes of her.”
“If such a thing happens again, I will hold you personally responsible, Culnamo. Whatever punishment she receives, you will receive ten fold! That is a promise!”
Where he had once been annoyed by the servants and suspicious of them, he now grew to hate them as well. Even Tara the kitchen maid was a sneaking snake that gave him honey as she lied. He used to like her. She gave him sweets whenever Eöl was not looking. She would never wish harm upon the Lady Aredhel or upon himself. Culnamo was the only one that had such opinions. She did admit that she had lost a husband at the Havens. Most of the household had and only Tara seemed remorseful when he asked if she had witnessed his father beating his mother and done anything about it.
“Lord Eöl has a temper, my dear,” she said in reply. “Your mother used to provoke him constantly. It is a shame he knows only one way to deal with her, but he is lord here, not you or I. His house his rule.”
When Eöl and his wife returned from their honeymoon, all that he heard of Maeglin’s deeds was that he had held a feast and spoke eloquently. Maeglin found it encouraging that nothing else was reported. After the honeymoon, Eöl never left his family alone again. If he went to the forge, he had a small house built so his wife and son could stay there while he worked, as he often worked long periods at the forge and then took time off. If he traveled to the Dwarf cities, his family accompanied him. They spent half the year every year in or near the cities and the other half at home in Nan Elmoth. It was more convenient than before when Eöl traveled back and forth every month or so. They had a permanent residence near the mines in the Blue Mountains
The Dwarves welcomed them. It was unusual for a whole family of Elves to remain for long periods among them. Even in Menegroth and Nargothrond, the Eldar and the Naugrim lived in separate corners of the Caves and lived practically separate lives, only commingling for business and out of curiosity once in a while. It took Aredhel a while to become comfortable around them. None were allowed in Gondolin. They had not participated in its building. Turgon’s kingdom was built by the hands of Elves alone. The Dwarves were equally in awe of her. They had few women of their own so that they were always fascinated by the gentler sex, especially a Noldoli princess. They thought it queer that Aredhel would wed the Dark Elf, for so they called Eöl. One would expect one of her esteem to remain in Gondolin for the rest of her days among High Elves. They never delved too deeply into their lives, though. Though they loved and respected Eöl they knew that he could be prickly.
Maeglin was now strong enough to work in the forge. No more dealing with dwarves! All his instructing came from his father now. Despite the shadow between father and son, the two worked side by side beginning in the morning and into the night. It was hard and back-breaking work but Maeglin enjoyed it. He had always had an interest in his father’s profession, though he did not find his father’s company very pleasant. Most often they worked in silence. Their meals were cheerless. Eöl did not like such estrangement from his son. He hoped he had forgiven him. Maeglin’s anger cooled and he was always pleasant and civil to his father as the years progressed. In all appearances, they seemed a normal and happy family.
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