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Chapter Text

In the first age, year 316, Aredhel was riding through the forest of Nan Elmoth. She was intrigued by the way the trees of this forest sang, and desired to explore it. It was a shame her cousins had not returned before she had left, but she felt such a strong need to travel the world. A need that had been stifled in Gondolin by her brother Turgon who desired to restrict her movements (all in the name of safety of course, but it chafed nonetheless). Despite how her brother liked to act, Aredhel had not sworn to him, she was not his servant and need not obey him. She had needed to leave for her mental wellbeing (and possibly his physical wellbeing, because she was close to punching him), so she had slipped out in the night. (She knew her dear brother was suffering greatly after the traumatizing death of his wife Elenwë, and so did not hold any hate in her heart for him).
As she rode into the forest, she was awed by how the trees grew. They were tall and so thickly growing together that they were starting to block out the sun, and she was only ten minutes into the forest. She wondered what kind of game might live in Nan Elmoth, for she was a huntress (she would also need to hunt food during her explorations, so it would be good if they were not sickly from the lack of sunlight).
Over the next week as Aredhel explored, she took the time to write down some of her discoveries to later share with her cousin Celegorm. He would no doubt find it interesting that the wild game seemed to be thriving in the dark forest, and that the fur and feathers of the animals were generally darker in shade than normal. This day, she came across a male elf. He introduced himself as Eöl, the Lord of Nan Elmoth. (For Eöl, he fell in love at first sight with the elleth in front of him. Dressed in bright white, with long dark hair and shining grey eyes, she was lovely. He wished to get to know her).
Seeing Aredhel of the Noldor house of Fingolfin (as she had introduced herself), had a bow, he challenged her to a hunting contest. Always up for a challenge, she agreed. Knowing there was a small pack of wolves currently causing problems for his people, it was the reason he was currently wandering the forest in fact, he set the winning condition to be killing the most wolves once they tracked down the pack together. Their arrows were different enough that they would be able to know who killed which wolf.
Aredhel was not opposed to the challenge, nor to spending more time with this mysterious elf lord (there was something about him that intrigued her). Together they left their horses near a stream, and they tracked the wolf pack on foot. As they tracked the wolves, Aredhel asked Eöl about the forest and his rule of it. Eöl was pleased with the interest she was showing, and told her all she wanted to know. By the time evening had come, they had tracked the wolves. They agreed that they would each climb a tree and only start shooting when they each had an arrow drawn.
So began their contest, and they were shooting the wolves with precision. After all the wolves were dead they jumped out of the trees and started to count their kills. In the end they had each killed four, with the final wolf having an arrow from each of them in it. Since they could not tell whose arrow had killed the wolf, Aredhel declared the contest to be a draw. She then challenged him to a contest of skinning the wolves, for their pelts would be useful in winter.
Eöl agreed to this, glad that she did not immediately wish to part. She gave him a smile that filled him with happiness. In the end, both had done an impressive job of skinning the wolves. Since Eöl had finished skinning his four first and so had skinned the ninth wolf, Aredhel conceded that he had won their contest. They rolled up the hides and placed them in a bag Eöl had brought with him for this purpose. (He was very impressed that Aredhel had somehow avoided getting any blood on her very white dress and cloak).
Since they were starting to grow tired, they made their way back to their horses by the river. They decided to make camp together for the night, so while Aredhel set it up after cleaning her hands in the water, Eöl went a bit further to clean up and change (he had not been as successful as she in avoiding being covered in blood).
He returned after 15 minutes, and they roasted some rabbits that he had shot and butchered on their way back. They both enjoyed their meal and discussion. They slept in their bedrolls that night, not bothering to set up their small tents as there were no signs of rain.
In the morning, the sunlight just barely peeking through the tree tops, Eöl asked Aredhel if she would like to return to his estate with him, and spend her time in the forest with a place to return to after her explorations. He assured her that they would not be alone and that there were some of his people living nearby as well. Hearing this, and not yet ready to part with him, she agreed (he looked happy to hear her answer, and his smile made her a bit weak in the knees).
As they travelled she noticed that the tree branches seemed to move as he passed them, and she asked about it (she had been rather distracted the night before). Eöl told her of Melian and Thingol, and their story of meeting in this forest, of how they had simply stared into each others eyes as they held hands for nearly 200 years. The forest had continued to grow up around them during that time, being influence by the Power of their meeting. He pointed out all the nightingales and spoke of how they were a symbol of Melian. Eöl explained that because of how long Melian had resided in Nan Elmoth (and the fact that her Power had flowed freely during that time), that the forest had gained a slight sentience. It had owed allegiance to her, and when she and Thingol had granted him the lordship of the forest it had changed its allegiance to him. It would still choose Melian over him if it came down to it, but he had no desire to start a fight with her so that was fine.
Aredhel was amazed at this, and slightly shocked that they hadn’t collapsed during those 200 years. She told Eöl that she found the forest quite lovely herself, and that she had never seen a forest like it before. She went on to tell him about the Gardens of Lorien in Valinor, and of its silver willow trees and lakes. She told him that there were many nightingales in the Gardens still from when Melian sang there. They continued talking about forests all the way to his estate.
She was instantly charmed by his dwelling, for it was within a massive tree and was unlike anything she had seen before. There was what seemed to be a forge and a general workshop off to the side as well. In the distance she could see some lights in other trees where his people dwelled (she was glad he had not lied about that). He welcomed her in to his home, and showed her to the guest room (he had only the one, for he did not generally invite others to his home, usually preferring solitude).
Aredhel stayed with Eöl in Nan Elmoth for a decade, and the two elves fell deeply in love with one another. During this time, Eöl confessed to her that he was the son of Melian and Thingol. He let her know that he was not on the best terms with his father, who had wanted to keep him close in Menegroth. Much like Aredhel, he had not wanted to be restricted. As he was a great smith, he forged two swords from a metal he called galvorn. He had given one of them to his father in exchange for the lordship of Nan Elmoth, taking the other with him when he left. Aredhel had long suspected his heritage, as he could not well hide his maian heritage. She did not mind. When he asked for her hand, she gladly agreed to wed him.
Knowing that her family may have issues with her marrying after such a short time of knowing Eöl, and that Turgon would especially be against it (he was far too overprotective), she did not invite them to the celebration (for elves wed by the act of intimacy and the merging of their fëar, only holding a celebration for family and friends the day after). Instead, she simply wrote a letter each to her father, Fingon, Turgon, and Celegorm, letting them know she had wed. She did not say who she had wed, for she did not wish to invite trouble to the forest of her husband. She wrote also that she was doing well, was very much in love with her husband, and that they suited each other very nicely. She sent off each letter with a nightingale, who were able to be trained as messengers due to the Power left by Melian. Eöl sent a letter to his mother, for she would not begrudge him his Noldo bride, and begged her not to tell his father of his marriage to Aredhel, for Thingol would be enraged at his son wedding a Noldor.
In the year 330, after 12 long months, Aredhel gave birth to their child, a girl. Aredhel named her Lómiel, daughter of twilight, for her dark hair. She had inherited the deep blue eyes of her grandmother Anairë. Eöl had already explained to her that it was the custom in Menegroth for father names to not be given until the child was around ten years old and the child’s personality had started to show itself. They again set off letters to the same elves they did before, (other than Turgon, for the nightingale that had been sent with his previous letter had not returned to Nan Elmoth and they suspected that he had had it killed), letting them know of the birth of their daughter. (Aredhel’s family were glad to receive the letters, but dearly wished to see her and her new family. They had their people listening for rumours of where she could be, for she had not been seen by the Noldor for years now).
The years passed, and though she was still quite young, by the time Lómiel was ten it was clear to her parents that she was every bit as fierce and wild as her mother. So Eöl bestowed upon his daughter the name Braigwen, meaning fierce/wild maiden. She was loved by the inhabitants of Nan Elmoth, who found her antics hilarious (and some who had grown up with Eöl thought that perhaps this was his karma for his own childhood antics; may you have children just like you after all).
As she grew, she frequently went with her mother into the forest to learn survival skills and hunting. Aredhel also taught her daughter about the plants in the forest, and which could be eaten or used for healing. She pointed out which ones were poisonous and made sure to keep a close eye on her Braigwen when she did (when her daughter was 12 she had eaten part of a wisteria pod to see what would happen and spent a very unhappy few days experiencing severe indigestion and stomach pain). Braigwen favoured dark green clothing, unlike both of her parents, and she enjoyed blending in with the forest to go on “adventures” on her own (Aredhel was glad that she had learned tracking from Oromë himself, for her daughter was skilled at hiding in Nan Elmoth with the trees helping Braigwen gladly when she Sang to them).
Eöl began teaching their daughter how to forge weapons in the year 380 when she was 50 years old (Aredhel had no issue with this, it was around the time that the children of the Noldor started apprenticeships). As much as she was her mothers daughter, Braigwen was also her fathers daughter. She took to the forge like a duck to water, easily completing the normal starting item of nails. Soon after he had started her on simple blades, Eöl had started bringing her on his visits to the dwarves. They were all delighted to meet his daughter, whom they had heard much about over the years. Aredhel and Eöl were very proud of their fierce daughter, though they worried for her tendency to explore the forest on her own. As safe as it was with its enchantments, orcs did sometimes make it into the forest, and there were wolves and bears to worry about as well. When she turned 55, they started to teach her about fighting. She was still very young, and despite her inheriting the Noldor height from Aredhel they did not think she would yet have the strength or reach to make best use of a sword (she was definitely not yet strong enough to wield both sword and shield). So they introduced her to spears. Braigwen trained diligently every afternoon after spending the morning either in the forge with her father or the forest with her mother. Since they had told her that she would not be allowed to go with the patrols until she was a skilled fighter, Braigwen trained whenever she could (she was an elfling who wanted excitement, and neither parent were wholly pleased with this as it added to their worry. They loved her dearly though, and knew she had inherited her spirit from them). There were times that they needed to stop her training because she was overdoing it, on those days Aredhel taught her about her Noldor heritage. In the evenings a few nights a week when Eöl spent the time in his forge they practiced Quenya together (he did not personally mind Aredhel teaching Braigwen Quenya, but if he heard them practising it he would be duty bound as lord of Nan Elmoth to report it to his father who had outlawed Quenya in the year 67. So he very intentionally gave them a couple hours alone a few evenings every week, and called out before he entered the house. It was weird but it worked).
When Braigwen was 65, in the year 395, Eöl presented her with a spear he had made for her. It was a bit long for her still, but he had been having the strangest feeling that he was running out of time to make one for her. It was enchanted to remain strong and resist rust, and the blade would glow if an orc was near. It was a beautiful piece of work, and Braigwen treasured it dearly. The shaft of the spear bore the symbol Eöl had taken as his own, a twisty tree. In its branches was the twisty eight pointed star of Aredhel’s house, thus honouring both of her parents.
The next year her parents declared her ready to go out on patrol with them. Braigwen was very excited, and put on her new armour. It wasn’t anything glorious, but it was her first decent attempt at it and Eöl had deemed it good enough for a simple patrol. She had been sparring in it the past two weeks and so neither parent felt she would have issues with it in a real fight. They packed for two weeks as they were not doing a full patrol of the forest, only along one edge of it. The first week went well, with no signs of orcs or other fell creatures. The family enjoyed the time they were spending together, and Braigwen was learning a lot about the banality of patrol. She did practice a little bit with her spear every night, for she was nervous that she would get out of practice. So long as she didn’t do so for more than 30 minutes a night, her parents did not mind. They slept in shifts, which was not a new experience for her. She had practice from her trips with her father to the dwarves and her hunting and survival trips with her mother.
On the way back along their route, they came across a small band of orcs. Before approaching them, the elves all dismounted so that they could better fight, and Braigwen was instructed to stay behind her parents and only attack when there was an opening. Braigwen agreed to do this. She was very impressed with how quickly her parents were moving, despite her own nervousness, and she encouraged by it. She held her spear ready (not the special one from her father, it was still a bit too long for her to use without difficulty), and so met with force the warg that leapt at her. It was not much different than fighting wolves, but then an orc attacked her from the side after she had killed the warg. This was different, as she had never fought an orc before and they fought differently than the elves she sparred with. She fought fiercely, and managed to stab it in the throat.
When she pulled her spear out, she saw that her parents had also finished fighting, and there were about seven dead orcs and two dead wargs in addition to the one of each that she had killed. They looked around to make sure all the orcs and wargs had been dealt with (Eöl confirming with the trees), before Aredhel and Eöl then turned to Braigwen to make sure she was uninjured. Braigwen then noticed a pain in her leg, and looking down she saw that she had an arrow in her leg. As she stumbled and sat down, her father ran to her side and propped her up against a tree as her mother fetched the medical bag from the saddle bags. They were at first worried it could be poisoned, as orc weapons sometimes were, but thankfully there were no signs of poison as they carefully removed it and cleaned the wound. They would still keep a close eye on it over the next few days, but they felt that it would be fine. Aredhel gave Braigwen a thick strip of leather to bite on before stitching up her leg. It was not the first time she had needed stitches, but it was the first time it was because of a weapon (the few times it had happened it had been because of a wolf, a bear, and once when she had fallen when playing in the river and got a deep gash on her calf). After making sure she was no longer bleeding and they had wrapped up her leg, Eöl and Aredhel set about piling up the slain orcs and wargs to burn. It was an awful smell, and Braigwen vomited from it, but she needed to see how to properly dispose of the corpses of the enemies forces. They did not want wolves eating the corpses and becoming twisted, which had been known to happen sometimes when wolves were desperate. They waited until the fire had died down.
They then helped Braigwen onto her horse and rode a distance far enough away that they could no longer smell the burned flesh. They made camp for the night, and checked her injury again before she went to sleep. In the morning they continued on their way riding single file, with Braigwen’s horse in the middle. They kept their eyes out for more orcs but came across no more. It took a bit more than a month for her leg to heal to the point that she no longer limped.
While she was healing, she was working with her father on plans for new armour for herself. Clearly using only leather armour on her legs would not work. She still wanted her armour to be light to wear though, so they decided to trade with the dwarves when next they saw them. The dwarves made very good chainmail, even when it wasn’t made of mithril. This time Eöl was going to make her armour, for he did not want his daughter so easily injured again (he was being a bit overprotective, but Braigwen would surely want to go on patrol again before she had perfected her armour making techniques. As such, he would make sure she had proper armour until she was capable of making it herself).
Aredhel watched them fondly, it always made her so happy to see them making plans together. She herself was getting restless again, and knew she would soon want to go visit her relatives. She was a bit surprised that it had taken nearly a century for her to want to go wandering again, but supposed that that was what happened when one was in love and had a child. She and Eöl had already started talking about it, and had decided that she would go visit her father in the year 400. Eöl would remain in Nan Elmoth as he was its lord, and they would let Braigwen choose if she wanted to travel with her mother for a few years or if she would like to remain in Nan Elmoth for that time with her father. (There were no thoughts of trying to bring Aredhel and Braigwen to visit his parents, for Thingol would not let those with Noldor heritage enter the girdle. His mother had sent a few presents for her granddaughter over the years though, things like cloaks or jewelry. He had no idea if his sister Lúthien knew about her niece or not though).
In the year 400, when Braigwen was 70, Eöl bid farewell to his wife and daughter, giving them hugs and telling them how much he loved them, as they headed out to Barad Eithel, where her father and eldest brother had made their city fortress. It was unfortunately close to Thangorodrim, but they rarely left their city unless it was to do battle. Eöl made sure his daughter was wearing her armour he had crafted for her, which consisted of sturdy dwarven chainmail underneath steel plates, designed with flexibility in mind (the dwarves had been happy to trade the chainmail to Eöl and Braigwen. They had long since thought that Braigwen needed more armour -and weapons - but hadn’t said much about it before. One of their dwarven friends slipped her a large dagger as a gift before they left the dwarven settlement, because she was very insistent that Braigwen needed more than her spear and hunting knife). The chest plate of her armour had the merged crest of the tree and the star on it, as did her helm, though she was keeping that attached to her bag for now. Her hair was long and braided. She wore a dark green riding tunic with brown leggings and boots, her armour was worn over her clothes, and a dark cloak was worn overtop that. She had her spear strapped to her back, her hunting knife hidden in her boot, and her dagger in a sheath on her waist. She was mounted atop her horse, a mare she had named Gaerwen for her copper coloured coat. (Aredhel was of course dressed in an all white riding outfit, with some steel armour strapped atop it, and she rode a black mare).
Aredhel and Braigwen travelled for weeks skirting around the borders of Doriath, and though they missed Eöl greatly they were enjoying their mother-daughter time. Aredhel took the opportunity to tell her daughter more about the world around them, which was easier now that she could actually show her what she was talking about instead of just describing it. There were herbs and plants that grew here that did not grow in Nan Elmoth, and the animals generally had lighter coats than they did in the forest. Braigwen was very pleased with being able to travel for such a long time in the sun, for she previously only got the opportunity to do so briefly when her father took her to visit the dwarves.
They were more tense and alert when they were passing Nan Dungortheb, where Ungoliants spawn still lived. Her mother told her one night as they camped in the trees, without a fire lit so that they did not draw unwanted attention, about the devastation Ungoliant had wrought upon the two trees and the darkness that resulted (Braigwen had heard little of this event before, as it was a highly traumatizing for the elves from Valinor and the Finwions especially). Aredhel told her where best it was to stab the spiders if they encountered any, and warned her to steer clear of the fangs as the spiders venom was very deadly. They only had had to deal with a single spider before they had made it past the dead forest, and they had easily dealt with it.
As they were travelling through Dimbar, a nightingale flew to Aredhel with a message. Frowning, because she hadn’t expected to recieve anything yet, she saw that it was from Eöl and grew worried. He had written that a large group of orcs had been spotted marching on the forest, and though no one knew how they had made it past Himring and Maglor’s Gap, they suspected that they had crossed through Dorthonian somewhere. This made her much more worried, because it meant that by some mercy she and Braigwen had likely only just missed running into this orc force. Eöl begged them in his letter to go to the nearest fortified elven city and stay for a time until they received word that the orcs were dealt with. The letter was dated to a week earlier, so there was a chance that they were already dealt with, but she wasn’t going to risk it. She reluctantly decided to bring Braigwen to Gondolin, for it was the closest fortified elven city (the girdle was nearer, but they would not be permitted entry. Well, Braigwen might be but Thingol would for sure refuse Aredhel entry, and she refused to leave her daughter with elves who hated half of her daughter’s heritage unless she had no choice).
She led her daughter through the mountains, and this took another two weeks of travel time. As they travelled through the mountains, Aredhel told Braigwen more about her uncle and cousin. They had not yet received further word from Eöl, and the only reason she did not think him dead was because of their still active marriage bond. Braigwen was….not especially impressed with her first glimpse of the city from a distance. Sure, she could admit that its architecture was stunning, but its white stone shone far too brightly for a city trying to stay hidden (Aredhel laughed when Braigwen told her this, for she had once said the same thing to Turgon). She reminded Braigwen that Quenya was almost exclusively spoken in Gondolin.
They approached on of the massive city gates (the gate of silver), and the guards rejoiced to see her well and alive. They were shocked to see a shorter female version of Fingon riding behind their lady (Aredhel laughed gaily when the confused guards voiced their thoughts, for while Braigwen looked very much like Aredhel, she shared her grandmothers blue eyes with Fingon, whom Aredhel, and thus Braigwen, looked very similar too). She introduced her daughter to them, and asked to be taken to her brother. One of the guards escorted them into the city, whilst a second took care of their horses, and promised to arrange for their belongings in the saddle bags to be brought up to Aredhels rooms.
The guard cheerfully led them to the palace, happily pointing out different things to the little lady as the walked. (She was much more impressed with the design of this gate than she was with the city design as a whole). They entered the palace, everyone they passed gasping when they saw Aredhel again, and the guard threw open the doors to the throne room and announced gleefully that Aredhel had returned to them. Everything in the room stopped, and Turgon sprang up from his throne to embrace his sister, whom he had feared he would never see again.
He was thrilled that she had returned, and sent a runner to get Idril. He then turned to Braigwen and questioned who she was (he had only been sent a letter telling him of his sister’s marriage after all). She proudly introduced her daughter, and explained that her husband had remained in the lands he ruled before Turgon could ask where he was. Just then, Idril burst into the room, and she embraced her aunt while her father hugged his niece (he was a little bit hurt that he had not been sent a letter detailing her birth, but understood it was probably his fault for killing the nightingale). Idril was also introduced to her cousin, and gave the elfling a hug.
Off to the side, Aredhel told Turgon of the orc army her husband had warned them of, and Turgon sent his scouts to keep an eye out. As it was now quite late in the day, Aredhel led Braigwen to her old rooms and they cleaned up from the road. They then went to the dining room to eat supper with everyone. It was a relatively normal supper, as there had been no time to set up a proper feast of celebration, they would have that the following night. For now, Aredhel told her brother and niece some of what she had been up to since she had left around 86 years ago. They went back to Aredhel’s rooms to sleep soon after eating for they were tired from their journey.
The next day after eating, Turgon brought them to the throne room to properly announce that Aredhel had returned, and that she had brought her daughter with her (he suspected that his sister had chosen a Sindar husband, and was not pleased. He knew that she was hiding the identity of her husband for a reason and dreaded who it might be. He was glad that Lómiel had not inherited many visible Sindar features).
A few days later, they were in the throne room again when a guard escorted in a panicked Eöl, who was demanding to know if his wife and daughter had made it to the city safely. Turgon demanded to know who this elf was, while Aredhel and Lómiel ran to embrace said elf. (He had gotten here so quickly because every time whatever animal he was riding on got exhausted he had called another to him with song. Had been moving almost nonstop very quickly, and had only slept when riding the various horses, stags, and wolves to get here. He had tied himself to them so that he would not fall off in his sleep). He shared a glance with his wife and they quickly had a quick osanwë conversation. He introduced himself as Eöl, Lord of Nan Elmoth. This enraged Turgon, for he had heard of this dark elf (As usually happens with rumours, the rumours had spread of a mysterious and suspicious elf that ruled Nan Elmoth with dark magic, being very over exaggerated about what he was capable of and what type of powers he used). He furiously accused Eöl of enchanting his sister with fell powers, which greatly confused (and insulted) all three of them. Eöl furiously denied this, and Aredhel and Lómiel spoke in his defense. When Eöl stated that he would be escorting his wife and daughter to their next destination, Turgon managed to get even more wrathful (he had just gotten his sister back, he did not want to lose her again, and he definitely did not want her husband to be there). He told Eöl that he and his daughter would abide in Gondolin or die in Gondolin, and subtly gestured for the guards to surround Eöl. Eöl grasped his sword in preparation for fighting his way out, worried because his wife and daughter were not in armour - nor were they carrying any weapons that he could see, and resolved to do his best to get the three of them out of the city again.
Aredhel, meanwhile, had started yelling at her brother. Demanding to know what he thought he was doing. She tried to remind him that she shared a marriage bond with Eöl and that his death, and her daughter’s death, would damage her fëa irreparably in a desperate attempt to stay his hand. Braigwen had tensed up at the signs that a fight was about to break out, but wasn’t quite sure where she should be standing when it all went down. She had her hunting knife in her boot still, but she did not want to use it on fellow elves.
At seeing Eöl place his hand on the hilt of his sword, Turgon signalled the guards to attack. Everything happened quickly after that. Seeing Turgon’s signal, Aredhel quickly pulled Braigwen out of the way, Eöl drew his sword, and the guards attacked Eöl. Turgon held Aredhel back from helping her husband, though she struggled fiercely against him. This left Braigwen free to join the fight, and though she did not even reach for her dagger, she leaped upon the back of the closest guard attacking her father. She threw her weight backwards, causing him to drop his blade as he tried to keep his balance (he was also aware that Aredhel would not hesitate to kill him if he seriously injured or even killed her daughter, so he tried to remove her from his back without causing her harm). She quickly choked him out, being careful to only knock him unconscious and not dead. As she got off of him, she saw that her father had also knocked out a guard. This left her father fighting two of them, and she jumped at one of them, narrowly avoiding being stabbed. As the guard was trying to pull her off as she climbed up his back, (she was not full grown yet, and only 5’9”, the guard was about 6’10”), he also dropped her sword as he tried to pull her off. He ended up punching her in the head, and Eöl let out a cry of rage at seeing her collapse. He pushed aside the one he was fighting and charged at the elf who had punched his daughter so hard she had collapsed (she was a very tough elfling, and it was worrying that she had not jumped right back up though she was still conscious).
Two things happened simultaneously then. Aredhel finally broke free of her brother’s grasp to run towards her daughter, and Eöl was stabbed in the back by the guard he had pushed away. He died quickly, for the blade had pierced his heart. As the light in his eyes faded, both Aredhel and Braigwen let out wails of despair. They felt their bonds with him break as he died, and they wept.
(Neither Eöl nor Aredhel had known, but the marriage bond between the half-Maia and the elf was very deeply entwined in their fëar, far more so than happened between full elves. As Eöl’s fëa flew to the Halls of Mandos, Aredhel felt the damage done to her fëa and knew that she would not be able to continue living. No matter how much she desired to at least finish raising her daughter, she knew that she would fade before the day was over. Her fëa was just too damaged to continue living).
Everyone in the room other than mother and daughter, including the reinforcements that had just arrived, froze in shock at the scene before them. Braigwen was more clearly than ever an elfling as she sobbed over her father’s body, calling to him in Sindarin. Aredhel had tears streaming down her face as she embraced her daughter, but she seemed much frailer suddenly and her eyes looked half dead. (Over in Menegroth Thingol, Melian, and Lúthien felt it when Eöl died. They wept together as they mourned him, and Thingol greatly regretted that he had not repaired the rift between him and his precious son before he died).
Turgon ordered everyone out, and sent someone to fetch a healer, for he was worried about his sister, and his injured guards. He did not care about Eöl’s cooling hröa. He noticed that Lómiel had cried so hard that she had passed out, and Aredhel had pulled her daughter into her arms a few feet away from Eöl. The healer arrived, and knew as soon as he laid his eyes upon Aredhel that she was very quickly fading. He mournfully told his king that with how much she had already faded there was nothing he could do to save her. Her hröa was simply not strong enough to keep hold of her fëa anymore. He did not know why she was fading so quickly though, (for no Gondolindrim knew of Eöl’s Maia heritage), and was surprised because Aredhel had always been very strong willed. The healer explained that all they could do now was make Aredhel as comfortable as possible.
Since there was not much he could do now, he picked up both his sister and his niece (for his sister was not loosening her grip at all). His heart broke when Aredhel flinched when he picked them up, and he brought them to Aredhel’s rooms and laid them upon the bed. He called for Idril, and once she arrived he told her what had happened (since he was telling Idril the story from his flawed perspective, she directed her anger towards Eöl). She grieved for her aunt, who had just returned to them, and for her young cousin who was far too young to lose both of her parents.
Aredhel snapped out of her daze a bit, and asked them both to please leave her rooms for a time. She wanted to speak to her daughter privately when she woke. Neither Turgon nor Idril wanted to leave, but they respected this choice of hers and said they would return in a couple of hours. Before they left, Idril poured them each a glass of water from the pitcher in the room, knowing they would be thirsty from all of their crying. After making sure that her brother and niece had left the area, Aredhel gently woke up her daughter. She would have preferred to let her sleep longer, but she was not sure how long she had left.
Beaigwen awoke hoping that it had all been nothing more than a horrific nightmare, but seeing her mother’s face she knew it had been real. As Braigwen buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, Aredhel spoke. Asking her daughter to look at her, which she did, Aredhel explained what was happening to her. Her precious daughter let out a horrible keening sound at the news, devastated that she would be losing both parents in the same day. Aredhel hugged her closely, and told her how much she loved her, which Braigwen replied with much the same. As they sipped some water, Braigwen asked what would happen to her now. Aredhel confessed that she did not know, but knew that Braigwen would not want to stay in Gondolin. She would never have wanted to stay long term even had things gone peacefully, but the fact that she had witnessed her fathers death in the throne room and her mother was also dying in the city meant that she did not want anything to do with it.
Aredhel whispered to her daughter, asking her to try to stay in the safety of the city until she was at least fully grown. But, she whispered, if you find that for whatever reason you cannot do so, then you will have to be very clever. She whispered to her daughter about how she had escaped the city all those years ago, and she knew that Turgon had never discovered how she had left for he had told her such their first night in Gondolin. She told her daughter to develop a habit that brought her outside the walls into the surrounding valley, something that would not be questioned after a few years of being escorted by guards for it. That way they would think she was content to remain in Gondolin and start letting her go without constant supervision. (Oh how Aredhel wished that she did not need to be instructing her daughter about this, but she wanted her daughter to live and thrive. As sad as they would all be, she wanted it to be a very long time before she and Eöl were reunited with their daughter).
After having Braigwen repeat back to her in whispers the instructions with a stubborn glint in her blue eyes, she made sure that her daughter still remembered the most recent map of Beleriand that they had looked at (she did). Aredhel told her daughter that any of her other relatives would treat her so much better than Turgon would (she could see already that he would be cold to his niece, and was incredibly hurt by that since she would never have treated Idril like that). She quietly urged Braigwen to seek out any of her relatives if and when she left Gondolin, stating that even the Fëanorions would be fine since they were all pretty good with elflings. Braigwen nodded solemnly.
With that out of the way, they started speaking at a normal volume again. Aredhel told her daughter that all she owned was now hers. Braigwen could use it or not as she wished, and Aredhel would be informing Turgon and Idril of this when they returned in a bit. She told Braigwen where her hiding places were, both for objects and for when she wanted to be alone. She spoke more to her daughter, about everything and nothing, as she cradled her in her arms. Feeling herself getting weaker, she asked her daughter to help her to the hallway balcony. She wanted to die with the sun upon her face. Turgon and Idril soon found them, and told Aredhel of their love for her (which she was, admittedly and understandably, somewhat doubting right then).
Aredhel told them that all of her belongings, and those of Eöl, now belonged to her daughter. She asked them to take care of her, and find her someone who can finish her training in the forge. They promised to do so, and Turgon promised to ask his best weaponsmith, an elf named Rog, to do so. Within the hour, Aredhel’s fëa had fled her hröa to join her husband, leaving behind a city in mourning and an elfling who had suffered great loss that day.
(In Barad Eithel, Fingolfin and Fingon started weeping as they felt her die. They did not know if her daughter or husband still lived, for they did not have bonds with them. They swiftly sent out riders to deliver the news to their very spread out family, as well as to search for rumours of where she was when she died).

Chapter Text

Lómiel was distraught, and Idril’s heart was moved. She gathered her young cousin into an embraced, and murmured softly to her. Turgon embraced his sister’s body one last time as he wept beside them. When Lómiel had cried herself to sleep, Turgon had Idril carry her back to Aredhel’s her rooms. He had a funeral to plan, and he carried his sister’s body to the healers for lack of a better place to put it for now. He then made his way back to the throne room and sent a servant to each gate tower that had bells, ordering that they be rung once every hour for a full 24 hours in honour of Aredhel. He looked at where Eöl’s dead body had been (he had gotten it taken care of when he had given Aredhel and Lómiel privacy earlier) and felt a grim satisfaction at tossing it over the wall. He would not be giving the his niece her fathers sword, no that would go into the armoury and was too fine a blade for a child to wield. Perhaps once she was an adult and settled properly in the city he would give it to her. He had pulled off Eöl’s few pieces of jewelry to give her though, and his armour.

That evening a pyre was held for Aredhel (Idril had helped the elfling get ready for it as she was in a bit of a daze still). Lómiel stood with her cousin and uncle during the funeral, not really paying much attention to anything other than her mother’s burning body (she briefly wondered what had happened to her father’s body, but felt it best not to ask. Her uncle Turgon seemed to think that Lómiel and her mother had been under some type of enchantment that had broken with Eöl’s death, and so she had not been punished for attacking the guards in defence of her father. He had told her that he had informed the servants to call her by only her mother name from now on, and that she should not feel obligated to keep using her father name (since she had seen what her uncle was willing to do, and considering her discussion with her mother, Braigwen had simply nodded solemnly. She would not risk agitating him, not if she wanted to stay safe. She mourned the ner her mother had told her stories of, for the Turgon standing before her was far different from what Aredhel had told of him in the past).

For the next few days Lómiel spent much time alone in her mother’s former rooms. She only left them for meals, and the one time Idril had taken her to the communal bath for nissë (there was a small private one in her rooms, but Idril was trying to distract her baby cousin). It was admittedly nice, and she leaned in to the comfort that Idril offered her (she had agreed to at least try to live here for a time, and she still had 30 years to go before she reached adulthood). Despite being Lómiel being a bit clingy, Idril did not mind it for she also wanted someone to cling to. Turgon did offer comfort to his daughter and his niece, but he found Lómiels face too alike Aredhel’s to look at her directly most days (not that Lómiel particularly wanted comfort from the ner who had ordered the death of her father).

She wished that she could form a fëa bond with Idril, for she needed one, but for whatever reason only the thinnest of bonds had formed (which was better than nothing). Lómiel was pretty sure that it was because she knew her father was innocent of the crimes he was accused of and Idril (plus Turgon and the rest of Gondolin) believed otherwise. Their fëar knew this and so refused to fully form a bond that would end up hurting them both.

Two weeks after her parents had died, Turgon escorted Lómiel to the forges. He introduced her to lord Rog of the house of the Hammer of Wrath (which she thought was a very cool name) and told her that lord Rog had agreed to finish her apprenticeship. She thanked them both and Turgon left her there, pleased that he had started to fulfil Aredhel’s last wishes (particularly because he was not going to give Lómiel her father’s sword any time soon).

Rog gave her a once over and told her not to bother with the lordship stuff, there was no point in using niceties in the forge. He asked her what she had been working on most recently in her forge, and she told him about the level of weapons and armour she was capable of making. He nodded, and told her she would make a dagger whilst he watched and if her work was satisfactory then he would not make her start again from the basics (nails). Relieved, she agreed to his terms (she was glad that she had chosen a tunic and leggings today and had braided her hair back).

She told him that she would have to borrow the tools for forging and that she had no metal of her own to use and he reassured her that her uncle would be covering all the expenses. In fact, the reason it had taken two weeks for the apprenticeship to start was because the last week had been spent getting basic forge supplies for her. (Lómiel was grateful to her uncle, and made sure to thank him at supper that night. And though she did not know it, he had taken her thanks as thanks for both the forge stuff and for ordering the execution of her father and releasing her from the supposed enchantment).

Rog directed her to a work bench that had her supplies already laid out and she set to work. Over the next few days she forged the blade and hilt, and while she did not enchant it beyond keeping it from rusting, it was still impressive work for her age. Rog was pleased with her showing, and began working with her on her weapons and armour forging. He was intrigued by her techniques, but understood when she said she could not teach them to anyone, for a number of them were learned from the dwarves who guard their secrets jealously. He understood this and did not try learn from watching her work.

Turgon and Idril were glad to see Lómiel distracted from her grief, and noticed that as the weeks went by the dazed look in her eyes was disappearing. This relieved them, though now even Idril was struggling a bit to look at her cousins face. A few months after she first arrived in Gondolin, Lómiel asked if she might be permitted to go to the copse of trees just outside the walls of Gondolin. Suspicious that she was going to try to leave, Turgon asked her why, to which she replied that she had grown up in a large forest and being in such a treeless city was uncomfortable for her. He pointed out that they had trees in the city too, and she told him that trees sing differently when they are planted in a landscaping way versus when they grow wild and natural. Still suspicious but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, he agreed to let her do so only if she brought guards with her. Lómiel agreed readily enough, and asked if she could stay in the trees for a week. Seeing how easily she had agreed to take the guards he was fine with her making a camping trip out of it (he remembered how much Aredhel had enjoyed camping at that age). Turning away from her, he said that she could leave that afternoon which would give her time to let Rog know she was taking a break for a week (Rog was fine with this, he had been worried about how tense Lómiel had been getting).
Leaving the city was like taking a breath of fresh air. Her uncle had sent two guards with her (thankfully neither had been in the room when her father had died, or she would have had to find a reason to get different guards assigned to her). The guards were named Nyelmo and Ilwion. They seemed nice enough, and they made small talk as they rode into the valley (three weeks after her mother had died she had requested of her uncle that her mothers mare be allowed to roam the valley freely, for she had the same spirit as her former rider. Knowing how his sister had chosen her horses, he agreed - mainly because keeping the horse was not worth all the broken bones the stable boys were getting from her).

Lómiel relaxed as they entered the wooded area. The trees sang out to her in greeting, and she sang back in turn. It was good to be back in nature. She climbed up a tree and just sat there for a while communing with the trees, asking about how things were and just existing together (Nyelmo and Ilwion thought that their new lady was a bit strange, and she was certainly harder to spot in the treetops in her greens and browns than her mother was in her gleaming white and silver gowns). After a couple hours Lómiel climbed back down the tree and helped with supper, which was stew made with meat and vegetables they had brought with them. They would need to go hunting tomorrow for fresh meat, which she was excited about. She had brought her mother’s bow with her since she did not want to have to run after game this week with her spear. She had better aim with shooting a bow than she did with throwing her spear.

After supper and cleanup the guards told her that they would be taking turns on watch. When she asked which watch was hers they tried to protest saying that it was their job, and she gave them a very impressed look. She told them that she always took a shift on watch when hunting with her mother and she would continue to do so now. She said that either one of them could needlessly stay awake with her, or they could both get some extra sleep whilst she kept watch for her shift alone. Seeing that she had inherited the Finwion stubbornness they relented, and gave her the first shift every night (they would not say it aloud, but all three of knew that Lómiel had been assigned the easiest watch shift because she was their charge and the youngest by far. Not that there was much need for a watch within the valley, but it was good to keep in the habit just in case).

As her shift started, she pulled out a pipe from her saddle bags and started playing a light and gentle tune about the stars. The watch went well and when it was over she went to wake up Ilwion who had the second watch, only to find that he was sheepishly still awake. She rolled her eyes as she went to her bedroll, clearly she would need to prove herself somehow before they trusted her with a watch (she did not know if it was because they did not know her skill level or if it was because Turgon told them that she might try to do a runner).

After a good rest under the stars, she woke up and set upon her day. She jumped through the treetops for a while, enjoying playing around like any elfling. It was amusing to see the guards worry every time she jumped, as though a Sindar elf past 60 years who had been raised in a forest would ever fall from a tree without outside interference. They followed along as best as they could along the ground, not willing to risk jumping from tree to tree in their heavy and stiff armour; whereas she could easily jump from limb to limb in her tunic and leggings. She did not bother trying to lose them, for she was making sure to build trust whether or not she decided to remain in Gondolin. They went hunting that afternoon and Lómiel shot a few rabbits that they butchered and brought back to their camp.

Things went on like that for the rest of the week, and it was a very refreshed Lómiel who returned to the city. Her uncle and cousin were pleased to see her return in good spirits, but still found it hard to look at her. Lómiel was a bit hurt that even Idril did not often look at her face anymore, and hoped that they got over her face soon. She put her stuff away in her rooms, which she was pleased to see were untouched in her absence, and grabbed her spear and its sling. After putting them on she headed out to the nearest training grounds. She had been practising in her rooms for the last few months, but she was not improving like that. She needed someone to spar against, or at the very least a more open space to practice.

She found the training ground to be relatively empty, and so chose a spot to start practising. She was glad to be able to use more sweeping moves again as she had been restricted to more tight movements when practising in her rooms. Soon enough a tall ner with black hair asked if she wanted to spar with him. She agreed, and learned that his name was Ecthelion. It was a good spar, him using his sword and her using her spear. She lost the spar of course, for he was older, more experienced, over a foot taller than her, and he was very well muscled. In time she would be able to reach his level of skill, but it would take some years yet and more proper fights.

They took a short water break before sparring again with similar results, but this time Ecthelion was telling her what she could do to improve. She lasted longer this time, and she thanked him for his advice. He told her that spear classes were usually held in the morning every fourth day in a training ground not far away and this made her happy. He told her the next class took place in two days. She thanked him again and headed back to her rooms to clean up. (Ecthelion was actually pretty impressed with her skills at her age, clearly she had been taught well). She started attending the spear classes regularly, and found herself improving at a constant rate. She split her time between that, her apprenticeship, and going out to camp every few months for the next three years. After her second camping trip in the woods with no sign of her wanting to leave the valley, Turgon had commissioned a simple circlet of silver for her. It was little more than a plain band, but that suited her just fine.

She did try to spend time with her uncle and cousin over the years (mostly her cousin, she still felt sick and scared whenever she looked at her uncle) but they had been looking at her with suspicious glances as of late, and she wondered why.

She did not know it, but rumours had started to circulate about her. Whispers that spoke of her using dark magic with the trees and when she played her pipe. Nyelmo and Ilwion had spoken of the shapes that formed when she played her pipe whilst camping, and of how the trees seemed to listen to her. They did not speak of her maliciously, but there were those who heard these tales and grew suspicious. They did not trust her father’s people (the Sindar in general, for no one living in Gondolin other than Lómiel herself yet knew who her paternal grandparents were), because they had not gone with the Noldor, Teleri, and Vanyar to Valinor. Rumours spread and grew twisted, and within three years of living in Gondolin elves had started to mutter about witches when she was near.

She mostly ignored the mutters, and because her uncle and cousin had not confronted her about it she did not know if that was why they had been looking at her as they had as of late. (She was lucky that she was part Maia and did not necessarily require her fëa consistently nourished like a full elfling would need. Her fëa was naturally a bit stronger). Her apprenticeship with Rog had finished in her second year in the city, and he had taught her everything he could. She had come to the apprenticeship with him already knowing quite a lot, all she had really needed was more practise and some advice when it came to armour. She had spent a lot of time studying books about it during those first two years. This last year she had been making great progress at enchanting her weapons. Her armour was turning out beautifully as well. Speaking of armour, she still fit the armour her father had made her because she had not had another growth spurt (she was glad, for it was a display of his love for her and she had so few things from him left).

She purchased raw metals and jewels with her allowance from her uncle, and also with her own funds that she got from selling her creations. She had branched out from weapons and armour to jewelry. Nothing intricate, but simple bracelets and rings that she made in sets of two and enchanted to glow slightly when the other half of the set was near. The sale of these helped supplement her income, though the enchantment likely did not help the rumours of her being a witch.

After her fourth year in Gondolin, Lómiel found that her reception by some in the spear classes was getting colder, and she knew it was because of whatever rumours about her were circulating. Not everyone believed them, but enough did that sparring would be painful if she was not as skilled as she was. She had started wearing her armour to the classes midway through the year just to be safe, as there had been some very unfriendly moves used on her during supposedly friendly spars. She was not the only one who wore her armour to the classes though, so it did not stand out too much. It did lead to those who did not like her hitting harder though, and she told herself that it was fine because it would make her stronger in the end (she had started lifting weights in her third year in the city to help build her strength. She was already pretty strong from her forge work, but wanted to compensate for the fact that she was not done growing yet).

She still couldn’t beat Ecthelion in a spar whenever they found time for it, but she was able to last 30 minutes against him and make him sweat for his victories. Ecthelion was not sure if he believed the rumours or not. On the one hand, he had never seen her be anything but civil, even with those who were most visions towards her. On the other hand, he knew that she did use Songs of power, and he did not know if she learned them from her marred sire or if they were fell in nature. She had never used a Song in front of him, only in the forge or in the valley. He decided to keep treating her the same unless and until she proved herself a threat to the city and/or his king. Glorfindel on the other hand, had decided that she was not to be trusted and had started joining them when they sparred, keeping a close eye on them to make sure there were no enchantments being woven upon his friend. He sometimes sparred with her privately as well, and was more brutal than he needed to be in his attempts to force her to show what he believed was her “true” nature (Lómiel never told anyone about these spars, not even when she went to the healers for bruise ointment or stitches did she tell them who she had been sparring with. The healers were worried for her, and wondered if they were the only ones who remembered that she was an elfling who was still nearly 20 years off from being full grown. They had brought their concerns to Turgon a few times but he always brushed it off as normal training accidents).

At the end of her fourth year in Gondolin she knew she had to leave. It was unbearable to continue living here, someone had thrown a rock at her in the market the other day for stars sake, and sometimes someone added things to her food that caused indigestion. Luckily, her uncle had not increased the guard on her, though she was still required to bring Nyelmo and Ilwion whenever she went into the valley. She started making plans to leave, though she of course kept them hidden from everyone.

She no longer ate anything she did not prepare with her own hands, for she did not know if or when an elf would escalate the severity of what they were dosing her with. This was easy enough to hide by using sleight of hand during suppers (the only meal she ate publicly now), and by pushing around the food on her plate. There were still those friendly to her in the kitchens and they were happy to let her make her breakfasts and lunches in there, assuming that she was simply trying to avoid unfriendly eyes (Lómiel did not know who she could trust to actually help her and who she would just be giving ideas to if she asked for help, so she did not ask anyone for help. Not after the one time she had told Idril about a rock being thrown at her and Idril brushed it off as likely being an accident. That had hurt her more than the rock had). She did not know it, but had she told Ecthelion of what was happening he would have helped her. Sadly, she never did ask him for help because of his close friendship with Glorfindel.

She started slipping out bits and pieces to a tree in the valley that had agreed to hide her things within its roots (Lómiel had started playing hide and seek with Nyelmo and Ilwion shortly after the camping trips had started, so they never noticed her hiding little things in the roots of a tree). It was mostly some gems and ingots to trade with if she needed, her fathers necklace, and a few pieces of her mothers jewelry that Aredhel had favoured (most of which had been made in Valinor and had the mark of a Fëanorion on it). She hid these things, as well as a small knife set she had crafted, within the roots of the helpful tree. She had had her final growth spurt now, and so most of her armour sadly no longer fit. She had snuck out the helm, her chain mail, her dwarven dagger, and select pieces of her mother’s armour over the next few months, hiding them in a bag in the roots of a different tree. She mournfully knew that she would not be able to take both her spear and her mother’s bow with her when she fled, not without drawing suspicion. She would take her spear with her, as it was her weapon of choice.

With everything in place, she only needed to wait until her next scheduled camping trip. It was hard for her to act like nothing was going on, especially since her armour no longer fit. It meant that she was wearing the to small armour pieces that she could still fit into, and a random chest plate from the free to use armour in the training ground for the next spear class. It was the one that fit best but it did not fit perfectly (she was making new armour in the forge though to keep up appearances, but it would not be ready before she escaped this accursed city, so it was a good thing her chainmail and her mothers armour fit her well enough. Though she was letting everyone think that she had outgrown the chainmail as well so that they did not question where it was).

Her opponents that class were thankfully people who were too honourable to do more than whisper about her, so she did not get unnecessary bruises from them. However, Glorfindel pulled her into a nearby private training ground to spar with him before she could leave. It was worse than usual, because she now had gaps in her armour that she would not usually have and Glorfindel took advantage of that to beat her to the ground. Nothing that could not be passed off as training injuries from a high level training spar though, albeit one that had perhaps gotten a bit too heated (the healers saw the extent of the bruising when she went to them afterwards, and they, as always, kept an eye out for any other elf with matching injuries. They never found anyone as beaten as she was, and knew that that limited who her abuser was - for they could think of no other word for what the mysterious elf or elves were).

Lómiel was relieved that her next camping trip was in two days, and that it was scheduled to last for two weeks. This would give her a nice head start and she had plans to take care of her guards (nothing lethal of course). Two days later she set off with Nyelmo and Ilwion like always (though not before her favourite healer shoved some more bruise ointment into her hand, looking suspiciously at her guards, though the healers looked at everyone around her with suspicion these days because they were very protective of the elfling. Lómiel would miss them, Ecthelion, and pretty much the entire house of the Hammer of Wrath dearly).

Things progressed as they normally did on these trips, but that night she wove a Song of sleep into her music (she felt a bit bad about it, but knew they would try to stop her, and they would definitely rush back to the city to report it as soon as they were able to). As soon as she felt the Song take hold of them and ensured that it would last for at least a week, she carried them over to the trees and asked the trees to watch over them until they woke from her enchantment. The trees were very agreeable to this, and promised to do their best. She smiled at them as she retrieved her objects and packed them into her saddle bags and put her riding stuff back onto Gaerwen. She made sure that the other two horses would be free to roam as needed until Nyelmo and Ilwion awoke, for she did not want them to suffer.

It was a moonless, somewhat cloudy night, and Braigwen felt like one of the Valar was surely watching out for her as such conditions were perfect to make her escape in (and it was very much an escape and not just her simply leaving). Making sure that she had everything she would need, she thanked the tress once more and rode off into the night. She knew the patrol schedule and knew that the route she was taking would have been patrolled already, and would not be patrolled again until her camping trip was supposed to end. It was the year 405 when she fled into the mountains, and she was 75 years old.