The Tale of Arien

[Eledhwen]

Fellow writers, I submit my little tale into your gentle hands... Please do share your thoughts.

The character of Arien has been with me for over 20 years, since I first read The Silmarillion. It just seemed that she was there in the pages somehow. I wrote out the first part of her story for a competition a few years ago and then it had to be condensed to fit the word count limitations. I'm re-writing now - adding a small prologue, trying to untie some of the bits and rework others. In short, to tell the Tale as she would have me tell it..

The language and style is meant to be similar to that of The Silmarillion, and the main part of her story is set in the First Age. However, it begins in the Fourth Age...
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From the Journals of Eldarion, Second High King of the Renewed Realm of Gondor in the Fourth Age of the World, First High King in The First Age of Men

It pleases me to remember her now. She was, without contest, the greatest of my teachers and one who instructed me until I became King after my father. Father! To think on you tonight – to remember the old ways, which even now, begin to fade. And Mother. Queen of Gondor – never was there fairer. She was the most radiant city in all the lands while you dwelt within her white walls, lending wisdom to her loveliness! Where are you now? My heart tells me that you are gone; released at last from your sorrow. But I would have had the grace of your last word – the last loving light from your eyes. How I miss you both! Well do I understand the burdensome years now, and look to the day when my son may sit in the Hall. What shall I do then?

Do I jest with myself? I know well what I shall do. I will follow your trail, Ari. I will be at your heels as ever I was, this time sailing. Sailing after you. Mayhap, I will not find the Road open to your kin, but I will sail. Always have you been in my heart – teacher and soul’s friend. I know – I always knew – that you were unsure of Men’s depth to love from the soul. Until you knew my father. Did you doubt of me? Will you carry my memory, as you carried me as a babe, close to your heart? Would that I could see you again, not in dream, but in the flesh. In our room, strewn with scrolls, rich in lore – teacher and student in the Western tower. Do you remember now? Will you keep it as I have?

Pah! Here do I ruminate like a fool when my purpose tonight was to put your story to the page at long last.

“No Eldarion. It is not to be. Leave it as the Powers have themselves declared.”

Yes, I hear you. Still after all these years, I hear you my friend. And I say to you that it will NOT be so. It will be as I want it, as my father wanted it. Your story shall be set down and preserved, though men should not read it for years beyond count. I do not believe the Lords of the West still wish your life to remain without history among Men. And though I die and leave behind a kingdom, may this secret work be the true work of my life.

Dear Arien, before setting ink to my page, I would ask your permission, but you would sternly withhold it. I would ask your blessing but you would be silent. Therefore I pray your gentle grace and infinite wisdom judge me should this come ever before your eyes.

And now the beginning…

[Eledhwen]

The Tale of Arien

Here begins the tale of the Battle Star of the Eldar, who had divine fire in her veins as well as the blood of the three Kindreds, Nidriél who was also named Arien after her foremother chosen to steer the course of Anar (the Sun). She who guided the vessel of the Valar through the heavens was at the beginning a spirit of fire. In the Music of the Ainur, she was closely aligned to the music of Melkor, but when he made of fire instruments of torment and destruction, she left his thought and joined instead to the heights of Manwë and thus brought great light to herself. Melkor feared her because she had understood so much of his desire from the beginning. He could not hide his mind from the light of her eyes and ever avoided her glance.

She clothed herself after the manner of the Children of Ilúvatar even as the Powers themselves did. Through all the battles with Melkor, she sought to check the destruction he caused and when he summoned the fire spirits to him, she refused and went instead to Manwë and Varda and served them faithfully. She took the name of Arien and became as a youthful maiden of the Vanyar, golden and beloved and wise. After the Eldalië came to Valinor, she was the friend of the house of Ingwë, the High King of all the Elves. Inwë was a close kinsman to the king and his heart was given to Arien and in time hers to him. They were wed and from this union came Anariel and Ilsë, their daughters and Orollë their son. Anariel was the mother of Arien Nidriél and her father was Gelthalië. His father was a kinsman of Finwë and his mother was Isilië sister to Olwë of Alqualondë and Elwë Singollo. Of high blood was Arien Nidriél and many fates were woven into her own.

During the countless years in the Bliss of Valinor, Arien of the Maia grew restless in the frame she had assumed. Although her love for Inwë was great, she felt that she would fade in that form. She would at times leave her family and assume the form of a naked flame and bathe in the waters of Laurelin to purify her spirit. Her absences became more pronounced as she rediscovered her joy of that light. Yavanna gave her leave to care for the Golden Tree and she collected the dews and tended the shining vats that held them. In time Inwë and his children, understanding that she was of the Divine race, begrudged her not her heart’s desire although they were grieved.

Her child, Anariel was espoused to Gelthalië and dwelt with him in Tirion. In the grievous deeds that after befell the Noldor, Gelthalië had little part, but he was a close kinsman to the sons of Finwë and Fingolfin was very dear to him. Therefore he left Aman in the vanguard of Fingolfin and Anariel was against this for she did not admire the brash ways of Fëanor, nor did she believe what he would say of the Valar. She wanted to flee to her mother, but Arien was overcome by the death of the Golden Tree and there was not time for her to reach Inwë, her father. She consented at the last, against her wisdom and out of the love she bore for Gelthalië. In Alqualondë, the deeds of the Noldor grieved her heart and Gelthalië fought for his mother’s people who were so cruelly slain. Yet, he still resolved to go forth with his friend Fingolfin and also because the Noldor were his father’s people and he deemed himself guilty of their crimes and submitted to the judgments of the Valar. He could not have foreseen the hardship for his wife, as during the journey Anariel found that she was with child.

It has been told how Fingolfin led his people onto the lands of Middle Earth at the rising of the Moon. As she crossed from the grinding ice, Anariel felt her time come and on the shores of Hither Lands in the cold and icy North, her first child was born. Isilien entered Middle Earth to the ringing of the silver trumpets all about him and she named him for the new lamp in the heavens. She knew that there was yet another child, but the other did not come at this time and the Noldor had many leagues still to cross. Against all advice, even that of Fingolfin himself, she continued the journey though in great pain and weariness. When Isil had crossed the skies seven times a new light arose in the West. It blazed with great light and heat, for in those days the Sun was wont to come closer to Middle Earth to deter the evils of Morgoth. At the rising of the Sun, Anariel felt the other child within her struggling to be born. Even as Gelthalië held her and called her Nidriél, a voice was heard from the sky saying, “You shall call her Arien and she will be of the Fire even as I am.” Anariel marvelled to hear her mother’s voice that came from the new Sun and begged to have her children spared the fate of the Noldor. One night she had a dream; in it her mother spoke to her, “Anariel you are the child of the Flame of Anar. Do not forget this. Put your grief behind you, for I will watch over you and your children. They will be among the mighty and you must show them the true power of compassion and love. Where does a daughter learn true strength but from her mother? If you do not fulfill your part, your children will come to grief. The strands of their destiny have been woven amongst many and they must live. But to greatness or to sorrow? This is within your province.”

Anariel remained doubtful and full of fear despite the words of Gelthalië and her mother. She had been strong and just before the flight of the Noldor but had suffered much in the flight from Aman and the crossing and was now impoverished in spirit. Thus she withdrew her wisdom from her children and Arien took her examples from the soldiers around her. She was great and strong but missed the guiding, compassionate hand of her mother.

On the seventh day of the sun, great birds flew down from the sky bearing a sword, a golden shield, a fiery stone, and a bow of silver. Gelthalië accepted these gifts and put the weapons aside for his son and the jewel for his daughter. One night he dreamed that Arien the mother of his wife was before him on the smoking ruins of a charred plain. Her form was like to the one she had assumed in Valinor, yet she was so radiant that he could not look directly into her face. She greeted him fairly and counselled him that his daughter would be a great hope for his people.

“Mighty in arms shall Isilien be, yet greater still will he be in healing and herb-lore as thou art. There will be only one or two of greater valour and skill than Arien. Therefore I say give the sword Anársil, forged in Aman, to which I have added the strength of my own fire and that of the fruit of the Golden Tree, to your daughter who will be the Battle Star for her people. To her also give the shield of the smithwork of Aulë that Morgoth may know that the Valar watch. For cursed though the Noldor be, these are children of mine and for my sake are these gifts given and for the fates of those that will follow in the ages of the Sun. To Isilien give the bow of Tilion who used it to hunt in the woods with Oromë and the Stone of the Sun, blessed by Varda, to aid him. Mighty are these boons and blessed will he be. Arien will have need of other help for they will look to her strength in arms and she must be able to defend those in Middle Earth from the Darkness. She is the first-born in the age of the Sun and in all things that begin this age she will have a part. As I rose into the sky I saw what you cannot see and the Second Born shall find you soon. To these will she be charged.

“Yet, grief and loss I see if Anariel leave her to grow as she will. Remember that she is of fire, as am I, as is Melko. Strength and courage may be her birthright, but also pride, stern judgement and swift anger. It was pride that undid him at the beginning and anger and bitter hatred that keeps him thus. Do not let that evil be the fate of your daughter.”

[Dawnnamira Nerwen]

This is excellent Eledhwen!

You're writing style is similar to The Silmarrillion, and that adds a depth to the story!

I look forward to more!

[Eledhwen]

Thanks so much Dawn! I'll have more up soon...

[Eledhwen]

As Arien grew, the light that was within her increased even as it did with her brother Isilien. Golden-haired and fair with eyes like a summer’s eve, he loved to sing and when his father went to Doriath, he followed eagerly because of Daeron who was the greatest of minstrels. Kind and just were the words and deeds of Isilien and although he fought when called upon, his heart was rather to heal the hurts that war brought upon Elves and Men. His sister was darker than he with eyes of winter twilight and her dark hair fell like unruly waves in a tempest.

In the blessed land of Aman, Gelthalië had been interested in plants and the growing things of Kementàri and from her he learned to revere the living things of Arda and studied their beneficial uses. Thus, when he came to Middle Earth, he taught his children how to use various plants for healing and he marvelled at the richness of life around him. Isilien combined singing with his father’s herb-lore believing that song had its own power and used the living flame of his gem, which was gold in colour with a pulsing heart of white light. They were numbered among the greatest healers of the Eldar. Arien went often into the woods to gather plants with them and learned much from her brother and her father. It has been said that from her this knowledge and reverence was passed to the men of Númenor.

Yet she was not foremost a healer. Tall and noble - a princess of the Eldalië, who loved the silvery coolness of moonlight, but was not wont to sit and weave or sing and dance. She studied the paths of the stars to whom she felt a kinship and believed that in their dance, destinies were written for any who could read them. But her heart was the heart of a soldier, a heart of fire and courage. Her thoughts were given to the protection of the realms of Middle Earth from Morgoth Bauglir.

Gelthalië watched carefully over her for she was not yet out of the childhood of the Firstborn. Often the dream came to him and a shadow fell on his heart, but then he would see her walking quietly in the moonlight or smiling with her brother and her brightness drove the fear from him. Yet she grew strong and fell, and was a hard and swift judge in all things. Her pride was strong and though she sought ever to contain it, her anger was fierce and put him in mind of his Noldo kin who had come so rashly from Aman. He opened his mind to Anariel asking for her counsel but she would give none and paid no heed to her wilful daughter.

“Leave her,” she said, her weariness turning to anger, “for she is one of those who will do what they will. She will not care for us. The dream has made it clear. Even as my mother left, so too will my daughter leave to tend to her own destiny and cast ours aside. Do you not see? The fire that burns in her eyes shall one day consume her. Do you forget her stubborn refusal to be born? How much of my life bled away on the ice for her? Hard and deep is my regret that we left Valinor and the light of my kin to follow these foolish Noldo hither. Arm her with the weapons of the Valar, you say. But to me it sounds as the ravings of madness. She is but a child. We should remove to the forests where all is peaceful and the light is cool. Perhaps there she will learn gentleness.”

He looked at her, unable to conceal his astonishment. “My lady wife!” he exclaimed, “How is it that I have missed the frost in your heart? She is your daughter. Will you not open to her, even as your mother has asked? Whatever deeds lie before our children, it is ours to shape their hearts so that their hands will fall to the right tasks.”

Anariel’s eyes burned, “Well said my lord. What of their minds? A hard mind may remain hard even with a mother’s care. What then will you do? Make her a soldier as my mother has counselled? Will you give her to the Noldorin king so that she may learn their fine art of killing, and so destroy herself the sooner? Let it be as you will. I have given enough of my life’s fire to my daughter. My counsel is ended.”

[Lady Luthien]

Brilliant story, Eledhwen! I love your style and syntax--it really is just like the Sill. Can't wait for more!
~Luthi~

[ridnarhti_M]

Great narrative style, Eledhwen...
no other comment needed I suppose.

The Professor would be proud of you

[Eledhwen]

Here is the next section. I'm still working on this part, so if you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them!

In the twentieth year of the sun, Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor, held the Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting. For the first time Arien met her kinfolk from other realms in Beleriand. Although he was of close kin to king Thingol, Gelthalië had not ventured to Doriath because of the weight of the Kinslaying on his father’s people and the sorrows of his mother’s people – king Thingol’s people - that lay on him heavily. He had followed Fingolfin into exile and accepted the guilt for the crimes of the Noldor. Yet, Thingol sent messages bidding him welcome and urging him to come to Doriath and give some news of his kin in Valinor and when the messengers returned to their land, he went also with them and removed his family thither. But because of the curse upon the Noldor, he spoke not to Thingol of the flight from Aman and told only of the events that led to it.

At this feast Arien swore allegiance to Fingolfin and received her sword and shield. Although she was very young, her might and skill were a marvel to all. Her father also had revealed at last his dream to the king. Learning of his wife’s willing distance from their children, he deemed it wise that the king should know the words of the Sun. He knew that Arien would not abide in Doriath in contentment, for her heart was as the heart of the Noldor. Yet, he would not abandon Anariel for she came to Arda only for love of him and if she was now filled with cold bitterness, he understood that his was the blame. He spoke to his king saying, “Better my lord that Nidriél stay here in your service where she may learn and grow with her kinsmen, than to be hidden in the realm of Doriath where she will chafe at the bonds of the Girdle. Great her spirit is and the purpose of the dream makes clear that she is not my treasure alone, but belongeth to all of our people. I cannot teach her the skills that she will need to know and I cannot shape the fire that is hers. Would that her mother could care for her, the same fire runs in her veins. I fear for my child. Mayhap she will lose the fire as her mother, or perhaps she will allow it to consume her to her grief, and in the end, fall.”

Fingolfin considered long these words and put his thought to the fair child. At last, softly “I have seen the light in her my friend, as I see the shadow of pain and regret in her mother,” he said. “That Arien will be tested, the gifts and the message make clear. Yet, I cannot see that she will succumb to the darkness. High and bright, she shines – like a star of Ilmen on the green of Arda. Nay, I do not think she will fall.

“Yet, leave her in my care. What skill and love I have will I give to her. Fingon and Maedhros are here, are they not? They will be her tutors in arms and she shall ride with us in pride.”

Glad was Fingolfin to accept her oath and he declared that no enemy would be able to withstand her light. After the feast she stayed in Hithlum when her father, mother and brother journeyed to Doriath. Indeed, she received training in arms from Fingon, the son of the king and Maedhros (also her kinsman) and fought in the Dagor Agloreb, a golden star in the king’s guard.

Her mail appeared as gold yet was harder than steel. Some said that the Dwarves had made it from gold mixed with mithril, rare and precious to them, after she and her brother healed their king of wounds he received in battle with raiding orcs. Golden was her sword wrought from some metal unknown in Middle Earth; it never broke, and the blade did not dull. Anársil it was named and blazed with the fire of the sun. It was inlaid with amethyst, amber, and rubies arranged as the vessel of Anar and engraved with powerful runes. The scabbard seemed as a thin sheath of amethyst engraved with gold, yet was harder than tempered steel and bore neither scratch nor dint. Her shield was of the same metal as Anársil and fashioned with the same design. Gelthalië long kept secret his knowledge of the weapons, yet there were many among the Eldar who guessed that here was the work of Aulë and the Noldor in Tirion, for they carried within them the light of Aman. Wherever she went in battle, foes fled the blaze of her eyes and the hearts of her people were uplifted. Her appearance in arms was like to a glittering star in the midst of her enemies and earned her the name of Battle Star. No jewel or gem would Arien wear save, in after years, the gifts of Beleg Cúthalion.

[Eledhwen]

Some years later Gelthalië wished to see his daughter, for rumours of the Battle Star went abroad and many wondered at the report of a maiden fighting beside Fingolfin. He set out from Menegroth with few attendants thinking to ride leisurely and look at the lands about him until he reached Hithlum. Thus it was that orcs found them unarmed in the wild. Gelthalië they brought to Angband for they perceived that he was a great Elf lord. What torments he suffered at the hands of Sauron and the Balrogs of Morgoth who can say? When the scouts of Fingon found him by the banks of Ivrin, his eyes were blinded and his hands and feet were broken. None knew how he had reached there and he seemed to know not who he was, nor seemed he to see those who were around him. He spoke in his feverish darkness during the journey back to Dor-Lómin and they perceived that he had been brought before Morgoth and suffered unendurable torments. Arien had scarcely reached her father’s side when he breathed his last and knew not that the daughter he loved held his broken hands in hers. Yet, the name of Sauron he whispered again and again so that she was stirred to a consuming wrath and vowed to bring destruction to those servants of Morgoth. She would have ridden to Angband to challenge the Enemy and meet death for the sake of vengeance, but Fingolfin restrained her and told her instead to go and give comfort to Anariel. Therefore, she left Hithlum and journeyed urgently to Doriath to tell the news of her father’s death. So great was her haste that she did not stop nor rest her weary mount until she reached the gates of Menegroth.

She had sent no word to her mother and brother that Gelthalië was dead thinking instead to bring those tidings herself. Yet, that news reached Doriath ere she arrived. Isilien, upon hearing of his father’s death and the manner in which he died, arose overcome by wrath and left Doriath and none could stay him. It happened that she approached even as Isilien was riding away. She called out to him and when he answered her not, she pursued him. While he rested his horse, she came upon him but he was fey and gave her no heed. She dismounted and shook him roughly crying, “Isilien, son of Gelthalië, shall evil win in your father’s house? What manner of madness has possessed you so that you flee as a creature in the wild?”

Hearing her, he looked up and pushed her away. “Shall my father be broken by the craven who sits in the North and laughs while we sing and feast? The rumours of your battles do reach even here in Doriath but you do nothing. Will his death not be avenged? What of you sister – do you seek comfort over justice? Know you the reason he left at all? That he was coming to look on you, since have not deigned to come to us? If you have come to weep at the feet of Thingol, then there you may sit and weep. I will go forth alone.”

His harsh words felled her as if she had been struck. In that hour she believed what her brother hinted, that she was a coward who had fled from the Enemy that killed her father. And that had she spared time for him, had she come to them, her father would not have been taken in the wild. As he looked at her face, Isilien felt remorse but the wrath and sorrow were so great within him that he could not speak.

“Brother”, she said, “you are right in what you have said of me. I came to seek comfort while our father’s death is yet unavenged. But I have journeyed without rest and weary am I. Come back to Menegroth with me that I may gain my strength and let us set out ere the sun rises.” But Isilien would not listen and her efforts to restrain him proved in vain, for he thrust her aside roughly and mounting his horse, rode off with great speed.

Arien had seen many griefs, but none had ever before been her own. She knew little of the cold touch of sorrow until then and it was like death to her heart to see her brother thus. Kind and just he was, but had now lost all reason and in madness and anger went willingly into death. He swore to ride to Thangorodrim and wept in his despair for great was his love for his wise and gentle father. Wearily, she mounted her horse and followed him, but he fled through the woods and was lost to her. Beside Esgalduin, she dismounted and sank to her knees. Overcome by her grief, now doubled, she sobbed by the banks of the river.