I stood before the ruins of the House of the Mirdan for much of the day. I had not stood there since, oh, since a few years before its destruction.
I had not been there when Celebrimbor and many of the Mirdan fell in its defense (a), and he himself was captured and eventually slain. My friends at Pembar had given me due warning, and then I had been 'kidnapped' by a guardian appointed by my Prince, so that I was further north by the time the battle came to this land. But I had known many who did perish here, defying Sauron to their doom.
Although this was never my Thargelion, the beloved home of my youth, Eregion was a place I became most fond of. A second ‘home’ almost? A place where I could advance my skills as a jewel smith beyond my childhood’s aspirations and where I could grow into my destiny. It was somewhere I could start to heal from all the losses of the past. So I then believed.
Though I was never among the most gifted, my jewel-craft was ever of a high standard. Had my father not taught me all he knew? Had Prince Caranthir’s own smiths not given me of their time and teachings? In Eregion I came to know and work alongside some of the best of the Mirdan. I learned so much, yet always was there something missing, I now deem. I was healed of very little in those yeni.
So many of us lost so much in the battles of the First Age. It was understandable that a large number took to the ships and sought the peace of the Undying Lands. My two cousins did. I did not. And I never really knew why I remained. Not really. Oh, to seek to rebuild the Noldor’s great achievements. To see our culture restored, to put to rights the harm done by Morgoth and his lackeys? All of those things were true. But when balanced against seeing my family again, my friends, why did I stay?
They were all dead! All I had loved were slain, so I almost believed.
But I eschewed the land of Gil Galad, and dwelt with some wandering groups, seeking solace, and anyone from my old home. Few survivors from Thargelion did I find. Then came the time some from Lindon chose to set up a new Noldor Realm here, and I joined them.
I don’t really know why, other than they seemed more ‘familiar’ to me than other groups. Dare I say, some seemed more Feanorian? Aye, Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel were the leaders at the start, but not all were of their temperaments. (Or their wisdom, as it transpired.)
We all made choices in those times. Stay; remain. Lindon; Eregion. Some made poorer choices than they should have.
Now I had known Celebrimbor from the days before the Sudden Flame consumed almost all I loved. Not well had I known him, but enough to speak with him on rare occasions at the Citadel of Caranthir. I believe Celebrimbor understood why my Prince indulged me. Once he said ‘No making life-like statues for you, child. Maybe gem-like statues?’ He seemed to find it amusing, in a kindly manner. For some reason I oft amused him. Neither, once in the city of the Jewel Smiths, had I been the only or most skilled nis among his trainees. But it was Celebrimbor who had laughingly named me ‘Danel’. Mirdanel it had actually been, when one of my undertakings with a starfire stone had exceeded all expectations. My forge friends soon turned that into the shorter form as a fondness.
I owed Celebrimbor a debt, both for tutelage and my epesse.
Choices? We all must make them every day, both great and small. We all must live with the consequences. Had Celebrimbor not been so driven to equal his grandsire in creating, it may have been he was not deceived, and much that followed could have been averted.
Had I chosen otherwise at some key moments of my life, may I not have ended up standing where I did, weighed down with memories of sorrows that I could have avoided.
I have grown tired of late. It comes to us all in due course. We are inclined to dwell in the past even at the best of times, but now, with Sauron about to make another of his moves to dominate the free peoples, and with many of my kindred thinking it past time to take ship to the West, I find it hard to look forward.
What is there for me? A ship, aye, I could sail, as Belegos urged me to do. I would see those Mirdan again, and many friends and family…..but……
But Estarfin will likely remain.
He is not gifted with discernment of the heart, as he himself would admit. Though Belegos said differently, never have I thought Estarfin understood me. I wrote a reply to his letter (b), yet he has not spoken to me about receiving it, (Though the one time I encountered him was at Lord Daegond’s funeral, and so inappropriate) neither do I now know where he is. Nonetheless, to be parted from him until Arda is remade is an unbearable thought. I would remain with him this side of the Great Sea if he will not take ship. My father long ago told me that Estarfin had fallen in battle. I believed it then, without question. Having found but in a space of some years ago that was untrue, I will not leave.
These past few years I have wandered the old lands of the Noldor again. Though my house is in Celondim, a fair enough place with more than fair friends, I have a growing desire to see it all. Or is it a desire to head towards, rather than away from conflict? I was torn from the defense of Eregion, to my shame. May it be something else I will not repeat.
So I bid my close friends, Lelyar and Arnone, to sail. More a command actually. They would not tarry here were it not for me. They undertake a catalog of all we have at Tum Escal as they complete the move to smaller dwellings, and will do as I ask within a few years. Aearlinn I have blessed, and asked to do as she will, but my choice is she too sails, when the time is night. So does she dwell much by the waters and rock pools at the sea’s edge, and speak with friends both elven and bird. The others also remain in Mithlond for now, as far as I know.
For I tread a very solitary path of late. Occasionally I seek out news and light converse, as is my intent as I head to Echad Eregion, and then Gwingris. The only time I sought company was with the group heading from Mithlond to Imladris, to pay respect to the fallen ‘Hound’ of Vanimar. Ai, that wound still bleeds at times. His was a loss too many.
May it be today I chose to change that? May it be I seek out Estarfin in Imladris, or wherever he has journeyed, for a long delayed talk?
- Unfinished Tales. JRR Tolkien. History of Galadriel and Celeborn p307
- A Final Letter? | The Laurelin Archives by Estarfin
