Taking the Black – an excerpt of a long lost journal
’When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed
Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty
keep me in your memory, leave out all the rest ...
I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through
I've never been perfect, but neither have you ..’
(
All the Rest, Linkin Park)
Erfaron Silugnir
Gondolin
Some weeks after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad
FA 472
The night was strewn of unseen shivers, cold as a compress against my skin. That burning numbed all misery beyond the physical, and aided in the stilling of those inner voices which screamed aloud sense and credited self-preservation. Wind carried me one foot before the other, along a slender wall I walked the brink of heartache. The dizzying heights were hazed by the embracing moonlight as though the great drop awaiting promised a net of stars, and they should catch me if I stumbled.
But I knew, in truth, there would present no vast celestial panoply to stifle the gaping crevice that now cratered my empty chest. I wanted none. My heart and hope the both had been cast to naught by my own hand. I might have known that she would see me to such an end, sooner or later. But still I understood in all earnest and honesty that were I afforded opportunity to do it all over again .. I still would do as had recklessly been done. That brief exhilaration come from touching the fierce, raging glory of the sun ... it was well worth the melting of my soul into cinders as a consequence.
She was done with me, and I would not be, not without her. I should have no cause at all to breathe, to live. This was my final testament of adulation to amuse her. She would know that the losing of her had seen me to my end. She would like that, and the thought provided solace. But turns out I was not half so alone as I imagined ..
"I am not of a mood to watch one fall from such a height."
The voice was strong, and unafraid yet moving in the fracture that endowed it with emotion. Alas that I was too far engorged on my own self-pity that I scarce paid him, at the first, what attention he was owed.
"Then close your eyes," I laughed, "or better still, be gone."
As if ...
"Do you know me not ?"
His words rushed about my senses like strong wine, drowning out all else but their infection. Alas, again, I yet had to learn better just what precipice I stood upon. Hard stone was below my feet, stars above my head. I had naught left to lose, so what thought should I waste on manners. What harm could he do but hurl me to my elected destination ?
"Do I seem," I wandered aloud at his indignant rebuke, "as though your name, or any else you have to say could make some difference ?"
I did not catch his answer, lest it was the force that took me from all balance. A wild rush of deep shadow cast me from all contact with my perilous perch and it was not until I glanced up in some bewilderment from the paving of the courtyard, that I realised I had fallen upon the wrong side of the edge. I found the answer to the riddle in the two, tall, night-clad sentries that stood astride me, each glaring down with the weight of brooding fury in their eyes. I made to rise, and was held to my knees.
"You are in the presence of Maeglin, sister son to the High King Turgon himself," proclaimed immediately, one of the pillars that haunted his side. Dark of garb, dark of hair, dark of countenance. "My Lord stands Prince of this realm and leader of the House of Mole," I was informed. "Blood to the High King of all the Noldor."
I skimmed a look.
Their leader was barely two hundred years old. a child. but his eyes .. they were far more travelled. It might have been the altitude, the vast amounts of Tirindo's wine which I had consumed, but more than like it was the faint of light that hung about the sky, above his head. A king uncrowned, a mind unmoved, an Elf to be observed if any I had ever seen one. The blood of the great was strong within him, I saw it now. As much as I had ever heard it said afore. That stopped me then. Not out of fear, but rather wonder.
"You are of blood to Findekáno ?" I realised.
"I am," he admitted, with both pride and some amusement. "But who is it I should have my escort arrest this night ? I would have your name," he prompted, with a stern half-smile, "if not your manners."
"I am but one who failed to safeguard your kin when it had been my duty to, in battle," I professed worthy cause for him to see me dead. "In payment I beseech you, cast me from the sight of all who grieve the dead that came not home."
The sentiment was not conceived entirely of falsehood. If it had not been for my Captain, seeing me to "other" orders, I would for certain have known my death about the feet of Fingon. Earcolante had saved my life. A more gracious soldier would have counted his blessings. I counted naught, for in the throes of grief and woe, there seemed no light to cast sights toward hope.
"It is a thing strange to me," the Prince said, "you are so willing to die, so afraid to live. It is customary to approach the two fates differently. This world is not enough for you ? You think you should know better than to dwell in the gem of all Elvendom ?"
"I have known the true gem of all Elvenkind," I admitted, dolefully, "that now blazes within another's grasp. The only Silmaril I have ever sought, denied me always after. There is naught of life that can console the loss, and even memory tastes bitter in the understanding that it shall remain now never more than memory."
Why I relinquished this information which I had held close about my chest throughout all the campaigning and struggle in this new world, ... I could not rightly explain. And even now words fail to properly address the compulsion he laid upon me. To believe that he cared any, that he desired to be so informed of matters far below his concern, and so very far removed from his own experiences ....
His eyes spoke of an understanding, as though he had stood aside me and experienced the pain of this now unrequited love himself. His tone did not fall mellow, nor his face less grave, but still there was a slight in his response that I shall recall until the day which truly sees my end.
"Is the moon a thing that can be held within your hand ?" he tilted his head as though contemplating the philosophy. "No ?" he was speaking as much to himself as to me. "How about the sun ?" he persisted. "The stars ?" Silence reigned as even I wrestled with some proper reply. "Yet we worship and admire them still," he concluded. "So long as they remain," he clarified, "so too does our love and admiration for their very existence." He compelled me to hear his counsel. "Noone," he dictated, "But noone can take that away from you."
"She has a child !" I vomited objection, whined self-pitying cause. "They .. they have a child. I was fool enough to refuse her what she wanted most of all, and now she has uncovered another, who will give her what she desires ..."
It was my greatest anguish, and the tirade that beat my skull into the shape of remorse, regret. He had proved himself of an oracle, and I craved more sage words to tumble from his mouth.
"She yet lives, as do you ... thus far at least. Therefore remains hope. I would not let such a thing as another's child halt my wholehearted intention," the noble Prince made very clear. Stately and assured, he seemed both certain and surprised by his admission. "In my experience, a child is ever more devout to their mother than their father, regardless," he mused, as though reflecting upon unspoken experience. "If ever some dread should befall he who has replaced you, then who will see her safe and cared for ? I for one would ever be stood nigh, for who knows what hand the fates deal, in their turn ? Love endures, beyond all trials that would seek to test it. Or so I believe. If you can not say the same," he waved off my anticipated protests with a dismissive wave of one hand. "I do not believe you ever, really ... loved her."
Neither Guard that soldered their grip to my arms, like vices each, could halt a furious objection to such an affront. I found feet. I found fury. I found a want to ... to ...
"You are not yet done," The Prince observed, with satisfaction. "There is a spirit still within you that might serve purpose. Pray locate it, and waste no more of my time. Death shall not have you this night. Away ..."
He bade me to depart, chose at the last not to arrest me. He returned to matters of more pressing concern than the end of the world as I understood it. His merciful sentence infuriated me. Who was he to say when I was ready to surrender ? Who was he to think he knew me in the slightest ?! Kin of Findekáno, I recalled, with sobering gravity. High blood, great of mind and skilled with steel ... so they said. So everybody said. The lord of Moles, the master of miners ...
He called his guards to heel and together they fell to discussion of their plans for the morrow, as though I were not stood there at all. I stood but in utter disregard. One of the sentries made gesture that I was dismissed. Indignantly, I turned to leave, by way of the path home to Tirindo and further contemplation of my fate; not to the waiting skies that had sung out to me not long before as siren, as the only option. I was far too engrossed in anger to allow the insult to pass unanswered. I recall pondering on how he had so hypnotised me into believing that his choice was my own. I had to chance one final look.
And that was when I heard mention of their dilemma. That they had come upon an obstruction to their ambitions. They had no means to effectively assume where the vein of weakness flowed through a mighty obstruction in their tunnels underground. There was every indication that iron ore was to be found beyond the barricade that the Earth had wrought in defiance of progress. If only they might come to find a way of forging through without having the entire passage collapse upon them.
Suddenly I knew. The Valar that had moved my Captain to order me to some errand far from the fateful location of my King. The reason I of all our guard had been allowed to survive the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. The long established learning that my father had bestowed upon me in the blessed land ... It was all come to this very moment. For what chance should else have manipulated us into such a play of mutual benefit ?
"Your mine is set beyond the city walls," I spoke out. They ignored them until I repeated the fact, often times. The sentries prepared to deal out the necessary rebuke for my overstepping boundaries.
"Begone !" one warned, ahead of his Lord's direction. The other held at the Prince's sudden interest.
"It lies beyond all danger that I might lay murder upon he who holds my heart to ransom ?" I would have them clarify, and set out terms. "A worthy diversion .."
"The vast warren of Anghabar offers freedom and adventure far from city streets," the Prince confessed, a knowing smile taking all his lower face toward what he already knew was coming. "For those only perceived of worth and note enough to venture there," he added with an undertow of caution that I should observe, and heed. "What do you know of iron or of mines ?"
He flung the axe carelessly from grasp as though to shave my ear from it's seat on my face. Shifting with the confidence of alcohol, I somehow managed to avoid injury, and procure the weapon in a swift embracing hand. For the first time since I had left my sword in that blasted Orc on the battlefield, my hand felt whole.
"I know of stone," I mentioned. "And for the first time since finding myself robbed of all else purpose, and allegiance, this night I have come to know of a cause that embodies both of these."
His amusement was subtle but certain, a duck of the head and an undeniable twinkle about deep set eyes.
****
The next morning ...
"Get up !"
Tirindo showed nothing less than his typical impudence, in assuming that he owned the world entire. He removed the door which barred him entry, and pulled at the one of my legs fool enough to show from 'neath the bed.
"Get out .."
Dragged from restful repose, I resorted to quite justified response. It was not his darned room ! In truth it still felt like Culasso's room. But it would soon stand empty once again.
"There stand a substantial quota of guards about my front door," he informed me, horror tainting every which word he hurled in my direction. "Whatever did you get up to last night ? Where did you go ?!"
"I met the Prince," I waved him away, and dove back beyond his reach, unless he took to the floor himself, and he was not ready to so lower himself, not yet. He was far too busy lamenting his ill fortune and rocking his face in both hands. At length, I emerged, if only to observe his overstated malady.
"Hold them off at the stairs," I told him, serious. "I shall depart by way of the window .." And so thrusting him, stunned, out of the room, I slammed the door and climbed back into a state of bemused comfort. It took a moment or two for the events of the evening previous to revisit my head, and then (shortly following a wary glance beyond the door, wherein I observed my old "friend" seeking for me to not be arrested ... for the third time this week) I found purpose in some urgency.
Less than a turbulent hour later, I was flanked by countless soldiers, garbed in gleaming starless uniform, and part of a proud procession winding through the city streets, toward a turn of duty in the name of Maeglin. Tirindo stood sentinel about the front door, and hauled me from amidst my new brethrin at the last.
"Do not pretend you are not sorry to see me depart," I told him. For all that he acted as though we were friends. "You are her brother, not mine."
"That is all you would say to me, on parting ?" he sought for some meaning in our brief, stormy acquaintance.
"I could say more," I offered.
"You might say thankyou," he clarified.
"I might also say you hit like a girl," I reminded him, bitterly. "And in such sentiment we might still part in honesty."
"If we are being honest, I saw you to the floor, regardless," he mentioned, sternly. "And would again, if memory should ever become cloudy about blame."
I escaped his reach and melded into the rich flowing mantle of dark pride that ebbed toward the city's borders. It felt .. right. I raised a hand in marked departure and would have him note the gesture.
"Stay out of trouble !" he called after me. "Or rest assured that I shall find you !"
It is strange. I think sometimes that we might have been brothers, we might even have been friends, if I had only stayed with Fea ... much would have been different.
I would never have come to know Maeglin, Lord of Moles and Prince of Gondolin. I wish more people knew of him, knew true. If it were not for him, I would be naught. Another reason for the populace at large to villefy him, I suppose ....
