Work Text:
As follows an account by many on the subject of Hútano Umaion. Includes writings by Liar, combat healer of Gil-Galad's Second Infantry, Erestor Kwen-di, Head Librarian and Councilor for Elrond Peredhel, Harthalin of the First Guard of Lindon, and Elrond Peredhel.
(Note by I, Erestor, seeking to explain things to our mannish visitors and others: the Feävanassë were a security force that swore their service to High King Gil-Galad in exchange for public pardon, made up entirely out of former Feänorion followers. Their identities were kept secret.)
Account by Harthalin, when asked about the events prior:
"My brother in arms was distracted as we stood upon those cursed plains. I told him that he seemed as if lost in a trance, and I could not rouse him before. I, in my youth, thought he was young as I was behind the black mesh that entombed his features, and that he feared Sauron the same as I. I told him, do not allow the Enemy to cloud your thoughts with visions of defeat. As Sauron surely knows, the mastery is ours in this battle. Hah!"
Here, she looks down, and speaks not to me for almost ten minutes. "It was, but at a cost, although I suppose all that read this will know that. Alas!"
"We were then summoned to the front of the armies. We listened to the rousing speech they gave, about how many betrayed us and whatnot, before news came of the Názgul-"
(Here, the paper has spots of saliva and remnants of wine. The words written after are hard to decipher, but the summary is that the Nàzgul came down to taunt their foes, and loyal Harthalin and Hútano followed. - Erestor)
"He was summoned to Gil-Galad's side, but I know not of what they spoke. It was with familiarity, and they parted as kin with a press of the foreheads through their helms. He was then sent forth to find the Spears of Lindon, who'd gone ahead to dismantle the Enemy's siege equipment. I know not exactly what happened, but he helped save King Thranduil's hide."
"We were reunited hours later, knee deep in gore and mud. We spoke to Prince Amroth, who'd been severely wounded, for more information. We began sneaking up into the camp, and I fought the Men of the east, while my friend ran ahead."
Here, Lady Harthalin held her head in her hands for a long while. I noted when she spoke again, it was particularly aggrieved.
"When I...when I m-made my way to where he was..he had fallen. His body had been gravely wounded, but his feä was mangled, and ai...I thought he was dead at first, and now I think, it would be better if he had been slain."
Account by Liar, combat healer, of the wounds and the nature thereof:
Casualty report for Feävanassë Hútano Umaion - Healer Liar.
Patient is a Noldor ellon, age unknown but estimated to be around 5,100 years old. Light of the Trees in his eyes: sun-age may be affected by time in Valinor.
- Severe concussion: patient suffered no skull damage, and is resting as much as he can.
- Compound fracture to the left arm: the wound was treated and covered, and the bone set to the best of ability. Firmly splinted.
- All 26 ribs are broken, but only one severely. Others were mild cracks: the one was removed with surgery, using a bonesaw and the area is fully medicated and stitched shut. A loose compression wrap has been placed on him: we're monitoring his breathing.
- Stab wound to the right shoulder with a large Morgul blade. Bleeding stopped and athelas applied to draw out the poison. Task was successful for the body, but the poison spread to the feä.
- Complete closed fractures in both legs. Bones set, and splinted.
- Multiple broken teeth, including all the canines: the fragments were removed and stimulators for new growth of the bone applied.
- Flash burns in the eyes. Untreatable except for time and rest: eyes are covered with a dark cloth.
- Face, ears, hands, and torso covered with odd burns. Treatment for fire and sun burns was ineffective: treatment for frost burns worked.
(Here follows a transcript of the notes in the margins and the back of the report, written in healer's shorthand. It's suspected the report was passed around the tent, since reports state these healers worked on opposite sides of it: therefore, they wrote instead of simply speaking or signing. - Erestor.)
Is he feävanassë? - H. Ciryon.
Yes. Don't bash him, he's the King's favorite. And he's near-dead anyway. - H. Liar
He looks like the King, if the King had silver hair instead of black, the light of the trees and more scars than I really want to think about. - H. Ciryon.
(The rest is damaged by blood spotting.)
I swear to Eru, Atto, why are Feänorions like this? By Elrond Peredhel:
He's Maglor's son. There is no doubt. The lines of his face, the tone of his skin, all of it.
My father would scream to see one of his own sons in such a condition. Cursed son of no one indeed, did no one tell him of Túrin Turambar...did Maglor even know he existed? I doubt it.
Put this report right in my library, Erestor. He is deep in a coma, battling for his life. Let none who rode at the Gap or who ran under the Bone Harp see him. He is Feävanassë: claim protection of his identity.
Let none know of this one.
The danger to him is true, and I do not want the ears of enemies to cast their gazes on the last of that line….I wonder if he knew Tyelpë?
I can not answer that, my lord, but I shall do as you say. - Erestor.
Thank you. Put it somewhere safe: perhaps with his armor in it's chest in the library. He will want it when he wakes. - Elrond.
Of course. - Erestor.