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Conversations in Doriath

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Walküre:
''Thou may immediately understand, fair Melyanna, how a solemn oath sworn to Ilúvatar and with the two supreme Rulers of Arda as witnesses is an unbreakable one. An ultimate promise of vengeance that will inevitably lead those who took it to victory or to the saddest of the fates. An eternal punishment and a neverending thirst for blood: because vengeance taints even the hands of the purest with blood. Blood which often belongs to innocent ones.''

Her speech was interrupted by a very long sigh. Tears seemed again to find their way out, but they were instantly contained by the Princess. Nerwen was resolute to conclude such hurtful tales. At least, resolute to narrate the events she had chosen to tell in front of the Maia.

''Now I start realising the magnitude of the immense pain we caused to the bright Valar, who had always cared for us in the sincerest and most affectionate way. The Powers were all extremely aware of the terrible wound that had been inflicted to my kind, but waging a sudden war in Middle-earth was something they were in no way prepared, for their cunning Enemy had conceived his schemes long time before and his servants had been restlessly waiting for their master's return: the forces of Valinórë could have not had the time to launch a full-scale attack and hoped for a rapid conclusion, considering also that the guard of the Blessed Realm had been lowered considerably after the past war for the sake of the Quendi and when Melkor was gaoled in Mandos for three long ages of the Trees. The Powers thus invoked order and time to develop an effective strategy. Justice had always been paramount for them, and justice indeed was at the heart of the good wars they had fought since their coming in Eä. Yet Fëanáro's purposes implied wars of senseless violence and slaughter, having his mind obscured by the darkest wrath. No one within the borders of Arda could have then convinced him of the contrary.

But the Queens and Kings of Aman were also moved by other reasons to renounce the usage of their might; reasons that reveal indeed their utmost piety and profound love for the Children of Ilúvatar they are to safeguard. As they had eventually decided to go to war to free the then newly-awakened Firstborn from the absolute dominion of Melkor on all mortal lands, they ultimately refused to harm the World again for the sake of the Aftercomers who are supposed to awaken soon, whose weaker nature could never bear a destructive confrontation among the Ainur. The Valar took instead immediate counter-measures to secure their holy realm, which had been attacked in its very heart; vigilance was doubled and a host was deployed around the evergreen plain that embraces Valimar. The pass that is the only conjunction between the two continents was about to be interdicted for all and thoroughly patrolled by the guards of Valinórë. The peaks of the Pelóri were made even higher and mightier, so that no creature of any sort could have violated that wall again.

While the Powers were strengthening their defences, the majority of my kind chose the way of the exile from Aman, flouting the recommendations and heartfelt pleas of the Ainur. The Noldor who preferred to obey and remain gathered around my father Arafinwë, from whom I and my brothers departed with the greatest sorrow. He now reigns as the king of Kôr of many towers. The bold House of Fëanáro eventually took the way of the Sea, as ghoulish circumstances permitted, whereas the valiant Ñolofinwë guided us throughout the frozen wastes of Araman, until we were obliged to pass the Helcaraxë and faced a challenge that only thy holy kind had withstood before then.

The rest of the story is already manifest to thee. Our royal kin has now established in Beleriand and we shall try to honour the dignity of our lineage at all costs. Yet it's a matter of continuing dismay that we are now divided from the ancient West; now that the Hiding of Valinórë has been completed and isolation became the Valar's major deliberation. The very Belegaer is now enchanted and forbidden to any wishing to cross those waters. I greatly fear that forgiveness won't be granted until the very end, at the turn of the tide of this new age. I'm nonetheless sure that the solemn Manwë and Varda snow-white will never forsake the ones in need completely. Their two new Luminaries now shine day and night all over Arda; the last remnants of Laurelin and Telperion that the love of Yavanna managed to save from death.

I apologise if this long narration has displeased thee in any way. I won't deny that other happenings are still to be revealed, but if Her Majesty desires to ask that I unveil them now, that would be a reason of suffering for my heart, not ready yet to undergo such test.''

Fine:
"Grave news indeed," whispered Melian. In her mind, she could see it now. While Nerwen had been retelling the events that led to her people's exodus from Aman, clear images of what she had witnessed had sprung up all around Melian, whose vision was extended and the veil of uncertainty was lifted. But more than just Nerwen's words were revealed to her. Melian's visitor had spoken with passion and emotion, and that had told her more than Nerwen might have realized.
"Dark is the fate of your kin," she said in a hushed tone. "This oath - hastily it was sworn; and doom it will bring, even to this fair land, I fear. A dark fate, yes, but I will not deny that it is the blades and shields of the Noldor that now safeguard Beleriand from the black shadow that sits to the north. And yet - mighty Feanor has not survived to reclaim his treasure, for I know that he perished in the very battle that took place soon after he and his sons first set foot on the shores of this Ennorath. His sons must surely now see the error of their ways, but an oath of this gravity will bind and haunt them forever."

She paused for a short moment and studied Nerwen's face closely. There was something yet untold, something left out from the tale of the Darkening of Valinor, something the elf-maiden did not yet wish to speak of. But, Melian decided not to pry. Surely, Nerwen would speak of it when she was ready to do so, when she had decided to trust Melian with it.
"You have told me much, my dear visitor - not everything, but that was not to be expected of course - and I thank you for these news, as dour as they may be. I understand now, why the last children of the Two Trees rise in the sky and blind out the starlight my people love so much, and why the mighty Noldor have come to Beleriand. Great sorrow you bring with you across the icy bay of the Sundering Sea, and a veiled doom hangs above you that I cannot seem to decipher, but I will let that rest for now. You must be tired, my dear."

She felt a presence approach the balcony on which the two conversants were standing, and turned around. A young handmaiden had appeared, bowing her head deeply before the Queen of Menegroth and Doriath.
"Forgive me, High Lady," said the girl reverentially. "The exalted King sent me to inform you and your noble guest, that the banquet will be starting soon."
Melian gave the maiden a graceful nod. "Thank you," she said, then turning to Nerwen. "The feast my King has prepared in honour of your brother's arrival will be a welcome refreshment, wouldn't you agree? Let us make our way there swiftly. It is not far."

Stepping away from the balcony, she led Nerwen once more through the vast halls of the palace until they came to one of the smaller rooms, where Elwe and Nerwen's brothers were already expecting them, sitting at a large table filled with dishes of all kinds. The Elvenking's banquet was now ready to begin.

Walküre:
Such a lively and warm feast was it! The two monarchs had also been joined by the royal court of Doriath. From time to time, minstrels pleased the guests with jubilant songs and poems of past events; one of the most recurrent themes was the circumstances of the encounter between Elwë and Melyanna, about which superb rhymes were sung. Everyone seemed very comfortable in that joyful context and words began to flow from each participant's mouth. Words of gratification, tales and varied opinions on the most diverse topics.

Nerwen was often asked about her golden hair. The legend underlying her golden-silver locks had presumably spread across Beleriand too, when the Noldor had set foot on those mortal shores. Many were just conquered by the hair's own radiance: some maidens wept at the sight of that light. Someone even dared to say that they had then been given a feeble reflection of how the late Two Trees would fill Valinórë with life and hope. A vision denied to the Sindar, as soon as they had elected to remain. A prince, named Celeborn, made his way to the Noldorin princess and praised her beauty with the kindest attributes. Nothing, not even the worst news from the outer lands of Middle-earth, could have maybe broken that harmony. Those were really merry moments. And merriment had by then been so alien to the Noldor.

Walküre:
Findaráto was involved in a very lively talk with the Sindarin monarch, yet every exchange was always characterised by the greatest reverence towards each other. The topic moved from the perils of the guests' terrible misadventures to the geopolitics of Beleriand. That feeble balance which the arrival of such mighty force from the westernmost ends of the World could have destabilised utterly. No one could have in fact foreseen what was bound to happen; how events would unfold themselves.

Elwë, who had until then enjoyed the hegemonic position of his realm in those territories, was profoundly preoccupied and doubted that those who were wise would be capable of constraining the actions of those who were not. Arafinwë's kin was not his main concern, of course, for the boldest and toughest kinds of the Noldor belonged to the other two families that had reached those immortal shores. The whole magnitude, pride and might of that lineage, which had been wisely governed and guided by the rule of Finwë within the walls of Kôr, was in that moment free to wander loose throughout the wonders of the Free Continent. Free to punish the perpetrators of the Darkening of Valinórë and of the theft of their precious Jewels. Who could have discerned their true intentions? Who could have foretold which boundaries and laws they were ready to violate, in order to achieve their ambitious goals? A grim shadow of doubt surrounded the king, for there was only one thing that terrified him the most alongside the Evil's schemes: the ruthless resolution of a Noldo.

ELWË: ''Noble and wise son of Arafinwë, your heart and deeds could be purer and brighter than the greatest jewel carved from these halls, but it's not you whom I desire to parlay with. I shall accept guarantees, if I hear them coming out from the mouth of one of Fëanáro's kin. Only then shall I lay down my reserves.''

Walküre:
FINDARÁTO: ''His Majesty certainly knows that neither I nor my family could command or dictate the will of our kin. From their part, may I assure you that the wise sons of Arafinwë hope as much as His Majesty does that a viable agreement will ultimately be found among our noble intentions. Only, if His Majesty permits me, I would counsel one not misjudge gallantry and indomitable resilience, for these very virtues carried us across the deadly Ice and unleashed upon the Evil a power no one had ever experienced before.''

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