Chapter Text
“The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”
- W. H. Auden, “Funeral Blues”
Prologue
“Why do the orcs call you father?” the young elf asked looking at me with both curiosity and disbelief. She was kneeling on the dirt floor, her tied hands on her knees, her upper body leaning forward towards me so much it seemed as if she would fall over any second.
“Who are you?” she added. My children had captured her several nights ago when she strayed too far from her troops and we had kept her a prisoner. But this one was different from the others. She was frightened of course, but all the same curious about our ways. I wondered if her young spirit was bright enough to see through the lies she had been told – or if it was naivety paired with a juvenile death wish. Thinking about my own youth now feels like a distant dream. The kind of dream that when you wake you can’t tell reality from delusion. But I remember it was the same eagerness and thirst for knowledge that brought upon my doom.
“Who are you? I need to know,” she repeated the question and I grew impatient with her.
“Curiosity can kill. I am older than you could ever imagine. I have seen and endured things so terrible your people do not have words for them.” I regretted that answer immediately.
“You have seen them then? The trees? If you are as old as you say, you must have seen their light.” Her eyes now were shining almost as bright as the moon in the night sky outside. I let out a sigh, upset about her impudence. But the truth is, I myself was exhausted. I had not spoken my own name in two ages and no one had asked.
“My feet never touched the grounds of Valinor. And I do not think I am welcome. I have never seen the trees. Yet I have seen their light,” I said and I could almost hear the questions in her head. To her, nothing I said made sense. I sighed again. Then I kneeled before her. My face was so close to hers now I could feel her breath on my skin. Her heart was beating so fast it sounded like a whole army of riders approaching for she knew what followed was either the answer to her questions or her end – or perhaps both.
“I have seen their light. Captured in three gemstones, placed upon a dark and terrible crown.” My thoughts wandered to a place they had not strayed to for many hundred years. I thought back to when I first learned language, a different one to the Sindarin the elf was speaking. Quendian – and suddenly the words poured out of me like a spring in the mountains. And the young elf listened.
Chapter 1 – Nildanér
There was a time when there was no word for lies. There was no word for darkness, not even for light. The stars were the first thing that met our eyes and we loved them dearly.
Therefore, we called them eleni. The first sound we heard was the water of Cuiviénen and of the small streams that ran down from the mountains through the nearby forests, already holding memory, and we called it nén. Those were the days of peace, we thought as we knew nothing of the wars fought long before our awakening. And we were entirely unaware of the perils ahead of us.
I was not one of the very first. But my people, nine pairs of us, were claimed by Tata, the second, to be his kin.
That was my first subjection. I had not realised it then, and I was glad to have a leader, a father, someone who pledged to watch over us, to call us his own. He taught us to speak, and we named many things for the whole world was unnamed and we had never met other beings that spoke.
But indeed, we were not asked – we were claimed even before opening our eyes. Tatyar, we called us, and we would become a house that birthed much evil in later days. Thinking about it now, I had not been free all of my life – until now. Until I broke my own chains – and the ones of my children. Until I gave every one of them, sharing this destiny, a name. But this freedom is something the world cannot seem to accept. Even to the Valar – kind as they claim to be and as cruel as they are – the freedom of an Uruk is unacceptable.
But then, we were at peace, and we walked in wonder upon Arda. This was the time when every day was guided by astonishment and admiration for every day, we would discover something new. And during these days I discovered love.
The Eldar awoke in pairs, and it so happened that each pair was destined to be with each other. Love is what I felt when I opened my eyes, and after the stars, met the eyes of my partner. But I did not yet know how to express love – I did not know the words. Love was complex and it was not limited to one person only. Love came in many forms. There was love for the stars and the trees and the wind and the songs. There was love in all the things in which we could feel our creator, albeit we did not understand why. There was love for my brothers, my sisters, and my Lord. But only one thing, in the end, outgrew the love for the woman that became my wife. And that is the only kind of love now left inside me as a free man: the love of a father.
I was never truly free. Love was beautiful but it was not a choice; instead predesigned by my maker.
We were paired upon our awakening and it was already decided whom to love, whom to spend our life with, even whom to fuck. But I only realised much later that Melkor, that Manwe, that every living being is an offspring of The One. They claim to be different; they label themselves as good or evil as right or wrong, but the truth is they are made from the same matter.
But our union was a love marriage nonetheless. We were wed on a warm summer’s night under a sky full of stars and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. White flowers were woven into her long dark hair and her white dress flowed in a warm breeze. I knew her heart, her kindness and even more her strength and I was grateful to have known her love.
There was song and dance and drink and I laughed so much my chest hurt the next morning. There are few things so precious in this world than the memory of that night and the thought that I might be the only one left to share this memory wounds me like an arrow through the heart.
Later, I wondered if this union had been a mistake. I loved her more than life itself but I felt responsible for her doom. I wondered if she could have been saved had I not acted on my desires. Had I been a stronger man and fought destiny.
We lived simple lives by the bay of Cuiviénen and the nearby forests. But we created many things and we grew as a community, all 144 of us.
I thought I had not a special skill, I was not a great craftsman, a composer of song or a healer. It was one of my brothers who pointed out my place in this company – I was a helper. Whoever felt burdened with their tasks, whoever was not brave or strong enough to accomplish them on their own, I was there without asking. It was in my heart not to offer help to my brothers and sisters, but instead, I was already at their side with a smile on my face to aid and guide them before they realised they would grow weary of their assignments.
And so, I acquired many skills, although I never perfected any of them. Each of those first elves knew my face and I knew their names, for I was the kind one. It was my wife who named me.
Nildanér, she called me and the others agreed.
This name does not come across my lips easily now and its memory is connected with great pain, for I am so far removed from that version of myself today.
Nildanér, the loving one, for I was madly in love with the world around me, with our community. I loved every one of them as much as the stars and I was selfless in my endeavour. I did not expect praise or reimbursement. My reward was the relief written upon their faces when they knew I was there to rely on and it made my heart smile.
It was especially because of this position that I was one of the first to see the miracle of life. I was there to help. And I can still recall when the first child of a brother and sister came into this world. His lungs were healthy and stronger than the most terrible storm. It was not a scream of terror or fear, but instead, it filled us with happiness and hope. It was remarkable to see his small face, his little hands reaching out to his mother. And we knew then, we as a people would endure and grow.
I watched this child, and others often when I lived at Cuiviénen. I taught them many things and I watched out for their safety. We did not know of great danger or threat yet, but I wanted to protect them still. And inside of me grew the secret desire to be a father myself. We tried, but my wife and I were not blessed with children until much later and they came forth under circumstances no living being should have to endure.
Those were the days of peace and they lasted long for my brothers. For myself, my curiosity and my desire to care for others brought upon the downfall of Nildanér. A Dark Rider took me and all I knew and all I was and all I desired.