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Title: Doriath`s Fall (#2813)
Author: rexford
Chapters: 2
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Archive: Tolkien
Category: The Silmarillion
Description: The events leading up to Doriath`s final fall. It shall include the battle and aftermath.
Published: 11 Jul 2006
Updated: 16 Jul 2006
Warnings: 
Type: General
Characters: 


Chapter 1 - The Beginning Of The End

THE FALL OF DORIATH 
Foreword...
This story is an attempt to write an account that broadens the version as told in the Silmarillion.
The Fall of Doriath has always fascinated me as it is the first battle that the sons of Feanor fought against other elves, without the inducements of their father.
I hope I have succeeded in giving a feasible account.

Author`s note: I have used the different forms of father-names and mother-names for the sons of Feanor.

CELEGORM is the Sindarin rendering of his name.
TURCAFINWE is his father-name and TURCO is the shortened version.
TYELCORMO is his mother-name.

CURUFIN is the Sindarin rendering of his name.
CURUFINWE is his father-name and CURVO is the shortened version.
ATARINKE is his mother-name.

You may note that Celegorm uses the Sindarin rendering of his, Curufin`s and Feanor`s names.
This is because he is complying with the ban on Quenya yet Curufin ignores this because of his disdain for the Sindar.
*MELWEN is Sindarin for "Beloved" 


Chapter One
"THE BEGINNING OF THE END"

Now it has been told that Beren son of Barahir along with Luthien daughter of Thingol and Melian brought a Silmaril out of the depths of Angband and this was given to Thingol upon Beren`s death. Yet Beren and Luthien returned beyond all thought and hope to Middle-earth and dwelt for a time in Tol Galen in the midst of the river Adurant that was the last of the six tributary rivers of the mighty Gelion.

As the years passed the thought of that great jewel weighed the heavier upon Thingol`s mind for such was its power. The years also brought many strange and sorrowful things to pass. The Battle Of Unnumbered Tears, the coming of Turin son of Hurin to Menegroth and his subsequent departure, the ruin of Nargothrond and the demise of Glaurung the mighty worm and Turin himself.

It was a year after his son`s death that Hurin had come to Thingol`s halls bearing another great jewel of renown. That was the Nauglamir (Necklace Of The Dwarves), made by the dwarves of the Blue Mountains for Finrod Felagund Lord of Nargothrond and it was the most renowned of all their works of beauty in the Elder Days.

After Hurin had departed it came into Thingol`s mind to have the Silmaril set within the Nauglamir and so join together the greatest works of elves and dwarves. He therefore summoned the dwarven smiths of Nogrod to achieve his vision yet a perilous doom was laid upon the Silmaril and the Nauglamir was among the treasure cursed by Mim the dwarf.
Dwarven curses are known to be potent and the echo of Glaurung`s evil dragon lust was also bound to the necklace for he had lain long upon the hoard of Nargothrond.

So it was that Thingol was slain deep within his own halls by the very dwarves he had commisioned to bring his vision into being. This terrible deed led to that grievous battle between the dwarves of Nogrod and the elves of Doriath, called the Dagor Dornoth, in which the dwarves won the day. Yet their victory was short lived for their army was waylaid at Sarn Athrad by Beren and the Silvan elves of Ossiriand and not one dwarf came ever back over the mountains to their city.

Beren and the elves were victorious and the Silmaril was recovered and taken to Tol Galen where Luthien wore it until her passing. It was sometime after the death of Thingol and the sack of Menegroth that Dior, son of Beren and Luthien bade farewell to his father and mother and departed from Lanthir Lammath with Nimloth his wife, his young twin sons Elured and Elurin and his infant daughter Elwing. They journeyed to Doriath where the remnant of the Sindar welcomed them and Dior set himself to raise anew the kingdom of Doriath.

He gathered there all he could find who now wandered the great forests of the land in sorrow and despair with only the memories of their realms past glory for comfort. He found more than were expected for the dwarves had not slain Doriath`s maidens and children and there were still few companies of warriors who had escaped the rout of battle. All these were gathered again at Menegroth and there was begun a great work of restoring the "Thousand Caves."

Much had to be done for the battle had wrought great destruction to the many fair halls and chambers yet the elves laboured with unwavering purpose under Dior`s will and direction and the restoration swiftly came to completion. It is said that time heals wounds of both mind and body as soon song and laughter could be heard in the forests and halls of the land yet their mirth was halting for the grief of memory was still near to their hearts. Many halls in Menegroth that were once filled with merry elven folk now stood empty, shrouded in darkness as a testament to their dwindled numbers.

For Dior however, a grief long feared was visited upon him far sooner than he had hoped. There came a time of Autumn during Doriath`s newfound tentative happiness when a messenger came from Ossiriand bearing a coffer. With hardly a word he laid it in Dior`s hand, bowed low and took his leave.

Hesitantly, Dior opened it and behold! therein lay the Silmaril within the Nauglamir and its holy light blazed forth to greet him, filling his chamber with a brilliant radiance as the gems of the neckless reflected wonderously its bright hue. He looked down at the jewel with wide sight, the grey of his eyes lit with its sparkling reflection. Yet tears of grief were loosed from his stare as falling glitter, for he knew that its coming to him was a sign that his father and mother had indeed died and gone to that place beyond the circles of the world where go the race of men after their time of waiting.
Arda had lost Luthien the fair forever!

Long did Dior sit there grieving in silence with bowed head; now gazing at the shining jewel that was rescued by his father and mother from the iron pit of Angband, now closing the coffer and extinguishing its light in deep sorrow. Remembrance now came upon him of those two great people who had defied all conceivable perils that were set against them. Those two whose love could never be matched nor would there ever be a love so blessed in the annals of the World, from its making, to its far end.
Dior sighed. Could that son of men who was gifted with traits of such noble courage and sinews that performed such deeds, along with that daughter of blessedness who was of such glorious beauty, of such purity of heart, and of unequalled power in blissful song, truly have ceased to be? The thought of it made Dior`s heart ache all the more, for as he had lost his dear parents, so too had Arda lost two of its most beloved children.

There in his darkening chamber did Nimloth find him, still mourning in the deep of night. She stood for a silent moment by the doorway, watching his bowed form languishing in the dim room, and perceived that some sorrowful thing had befallen him.
"What ails you my lord that you should sit so, seemingly bowed with grief and come not to retire?" she finally asked in a soft voice.

Dior slowly raised his head to face her and she started, seeing his tears, but he gestured to the coffer that lay closed on his table and said,
"Therein lies the cause of my sorrow Nimloth. Open it and see for yourself what has come to me!"

Fearfully, she took up the coffer and opened it and her eyes widened with wonder on seeing the great jewel. She stood a moment, mesmerised by its beauty and wondered how such a wondrous thing could fill her husband with such grief. Yet as she slowly turned her gaze towards him, the enamouring spell of the jewel was broken and a sudden realisation came upon her.
"It has come then," she said sorrowfully.

"Yes... it has come to me," replied Dior. "It no longer graces my mother`s fair person or brightens Tol Galen and the lands about. They are gone Nimloth and I their son am now doomed never to see them again!"

She gently laid the coffer down and went to her husband and set her arms about him. Her eyes closed and rounded tears gently rolled down her smooth cheeks in expressed sadness. She too had loved them well.
"To be sure my lord," she said after a mournful moment. "It is hard and my heart grieves with yours. Yet it was a doom of sorrow long foreseen."

"Even so," said Dior. "That makes it none the easier to endure."
He leaned back from her embrace and looked into her wide glistening eyes.
"They are gone melwen* and return not this time. Those twain who humbled the very might of Morgoth upon his throne! Those twain whom death itself could not conquer!"

He sighed with weary grief.
"Nimloth, I am king, yet have lived no longer than those of men who are deemed newly come to full manhood. I am as young in years as I am in kingly policy and would have it that my father were yet living to counsel me from afar, as I would have the gentle knowledge that my fair mother still graced this world. It grieves me deeply that they were granted too few years to enjoy the happiness they so richly deserved."

Nimloth now knelt before Dior, clasping both his hands in hers.
"Indeed my husband," she said. "And all of true heart shall grieve with you, yet do not fall to despair for you are far more than you know yourself to be. You are king of a great people, all of whom revere and love you. Do you not see what you have achieved? Doriath has been raised from ruin and its people are joyful again! Yet you are the mover of all these things O wise lord and your people do not forget it!"

She then took up the open coffer and held it before him and the Silmaril`s hovering light seemed to soften and lit his face to a heavenly vision of comeliness. Nimloth was silent for a moment. She had not thought it possible that the flame of Dior`s beauty could ever burn the brighter. Tall and lithe of limb was he, with pale skin and long flowing raven-dark hair that fell about his shoulders. He was indeed the son of his mother to look upon as the very beauty of Luthien Tinuviel in the form of manhood was in his face. Yet in his grey eyes could one read the inheritance of the Edain that was in him. The courage, pride and hardihood of Beren Erchamion his father, of the house of Beor. She raised a hand to gently caress his cheek, losing herself to the wonder of his gaze. How blessed she felt to be loved by such as he.
To be loved by Dior the "Beautiful".

She finally spoke.
"Now the great jewel has come to you, and rather than receiving it in sorrow, I would say receive it now in hope as I deem your father and mother would have desired. Did we not witness the power of the jewel as it were worn by Luthien? How Dor Firn-i-Guinar became an unrivalled vision of light and beauty! It shall surely give added hope to your people and aid in healing the wounds of your realm. And though Beren and Luthien are gone, let us take comfort that they have left you this legacy in memory of their hope beyond hope that their love would be fulfilled. And so Dior Eluchil their son came into the world and I Nimloth became his wife!"

Dior gazed long at Nimloth and a faint smile came to his face. She was indeed a beautiful queen, in appearance as in heart. As shining white marble was her skin, supple of limb and delicate of face. Her hair was of a rare hue of silver and fell in a glimmering cascade to her waist. It were as if the glowing sheen of starry fires reflected upon the dark waters of the Esgalduin on a moonless night, were somehow caught and enmeshed in her locks. Indeed, her hair was like to that of her nearest kin, for she was the daughter of Galathil, son of Galadhon, son of Elmo, brother of Elwe (Thingol) Lord of Doriath. Celebelleth was her title, The Silver Maiden of the house of Greymantle. 

Dior now remembered their first meeting in Doriath when during his youth as he neared early manhood, he had journeyed to Menegroth where he had dwelt for a full year at the summons of Thingol and Melian, who had wished to see the son of Luthien and heir to the throne. There had been great pomp and ceremony on his coming, and all Doriath had rejoiced in welcoming the young prince, Dior Eluchil, Thingol`s Heir. Great had been his wonder on seeing the many wonders of Menegroth and the majesty of Thingol and Melian, his grandparents.
Yet no fair hall or kingly seat was fit to compare to the loveliness of Nimloth whom he had espied from afar in the forest of Neldoreth, whilst wondering alone during a lull in the festivities. Their courtship thereafter had been swift for such was the strength of feeling between them. On Dior`s departure, they had plighted their troth and after a short time, Nimloth had followed her love to Dor Firn-i-Guinar where they had become husband and wife.

"Indeed, joyful was the day I first laid eyes on you, singing by the sparkling waters of the Esgalduin," he said softly, tenderly returning her caress.

Nimloth mirrored his smile. "And ever joyful and blessed is the memory of that day in my heart Dior Aranel! Now let us look to make this and all the days we have together joyful and blessed, for ourselves as well as our people. And in so doing, honour the memory of Beren and Luthien well!"

Dior looked down at the jewel as it shone with a mirthful light and the gems of the Nauglamir sparkled in glad reply. He could not deny its beauty. He raised his gaze to Nimloth`s wide smiling eyes and opened his heart to the comfort of her hopeful words that would soothe his feelings of loss. When morning came he would face his people and reveal the return of the Silmaril to Menegroth, as well as the grievous news of Beren and Luthien`s end.

Indeed, it was a doom of both joy and woe that were bequeathed to any who would keep a Silmaril of Feanor. Its coming to Doriath would be of no exception to that fate! 


The next day Dior summoned his people to the Great Hall of Thingol that was his throne room. There came all the elves who dwelt in Menegroth and those who lived in the nearby forests.

Soon all were stood before the king and queen`s dais, atop which stood their thrones, at the western end of the hall. Both chairs were made of oak, and were tall and intricately crafted in sensitive detail. Their wooden frames were covered in scrollwork and meandering traceries with fair elvish devices and their legs and armrests were in the form of carven tree limbs with winding stems and leaves of silver. Of open grillwork were their tall cushioned backs, punctuated with rows of cusp-and-foil roundels that were carved between the uprights that supported steep canopies. However, the queen`s canopy was in the form of a carven birch tree that seemed to half grow out of the wall behind so that many of its silver branches and leaves were as wide spread tracings.
Very beautiful were the thrones of Thingol and Melian that were now the seats of Doriath`s new king and queen, Dior and Nimloth.

Now Dior brought out the coffer and held it before him.
"Elves of Doriath!" he cried. "You have all been summoned to witness that which signifies an eternal grief and yet a hope beyond reckoning!"

The elves turned to each other with uncertain glances, questioning each other in low tones as to their king`s proclaimation. Dior opened the coffer and held the Silmaril aloft for all to see. Its light blazed forth and the countless gems of the Nauglamir in turn reflected its radiance in marvellous hues that filled the great hall with a living light more glorious than that which Melian had devised for Menegroth before its ruin.
Now many who stood there had seen the Silmaril at such times as Thingol had revealed it and these now wept with joy on seeing its return. Yet there were many who now saw the rumoured jewel for the first time and these gasped in wonder for it seemed to them as if a star of Varda had been drawn down from the Ilmen into their lord`s outstretched hands.

"Behold!" said Dior. "Here is the jewel that Beren and Luthien rescued from the perils of Angband! Here is the jewel that was coveted by the dwarves who in their malice slew our king and afterwards, attempted to destroy his realm. Yet they won it not from Thingol`s people but paid for their folly and evil deeds."
Now more softly he said, "Here also is the jewel which thereafter was worn by Luthien the fair, who so became a vision of such beauty and loveliness as to compare to a vision seen only in the ancient West of song!"

He fell silent, overcome by grief for he had dearly loved his mother but the elves looked at each other with wonder on their faces, for they did not yet understand the full meaning of the Silmaril`s return. 

"Now that jewel has come to me," he continued, urging himself on. "And so signifies the end of Beren Erchamion, son of Barahir and Emeldir of the house of Beor. And of Luthien Tinuviel, daughter of Thingol Lord Of Beleriand and Melian the Maiar!"

A great hush fell across the great hall as the elves were stunned into disbelief. Only the gentle fall of water from the halls fountains could be heard. Even the chirping of the Nightingales that lived amid carven branches was silenced.

"To my father, I say the memory of your courage and your great deeds shall be honoured and never fade though time immeasurable should pass!
To my mother, I say that ever shall your passing be a grief to elvenkind for you are now forever lost to your people. Yet your beauty, your song, your love and sacrifice shall remain imperishable in our hearts memory and endure in song and tale even to the appointed end and beyond!"

Dior fell silent again and all heads in the hall were bowed.
There rose the murmur of weeping maidens and lamenting elf lords as it finally dawned on them that Beren and Luthien were no more. For many, this new grief now brought old half forgotten sorrows to the fore in their hearts and many being overwhelmed, cast themselves to the ground in their despair though they stood within the very light of heaven.

Yet Dior took the Nauglamir and clasped the Silmaril to his neck and behold! now he appeared as the fairest of all the children of Iluvatar. All looked up at their king in amazement for the rays of the jewel seemed to well through his body and the very light of Aman was reflected in his beautiful face. The gems on the crown of Thingol that lay upon his head began to gleam as if lit by a flaming radiance and the silver of mithril from which the crown was made, flashed in a sudden blaze of white fire, ordaining him anew with the kingship of Doriath.

And lo! the light of the Silmaril began to grow in brightness and spread outward from Dior`s person, reaching every shadowy corner of the huge hall in widening beams of living light that held the elves mesmerised in great wonder as they basked in the glory of its power. Then all despair was cast away from that people as the transcendent light of a descended star would cast aside the brooding shadows of the deepest dungeon where unhappy prisoners that cower helplessly in dark, are suddenly enheartened beyond all reason to imagined aid that might be forthcoming.
Hope was kindled in their hearts.

All that host now cried out in one voice.
"Hail Dior Eluchil! Now surely is Doriath risen to glory once more!"

Then Dior spoke. "Indeed to witness an eternal grief I said, yet also a hope beyond reckoning! See now the power of the Silmaril has healed the sorrows of our hearts! So shall it also heal the hurts of our land, fostering the growth and wellbeing of old that was lost to Doriath!"
He came forward now to the very edge of the dais and the great light that was about him shone upon his peoples upturned faces.
"Now hearken to me!" he said. "For this is a new beginning for us all as we are come out of the shadows, back into the light! Indeed, long may we dwell within its power! However, let us know that though our hearts shall never forget our loss, the holy jewel shall serve as a memorial to those twain who won it in hope for themselves, and so sent it to Doriath in hope for us all! And I say to you with the foresight granted to me now, that whatever may betide after this blessed day, the fate of the Silmaril shall lead even unto the heavens, where it shall remain a sign of hope to all of true heart in Middle-earth, though the darkness would devour the world!"

As he said these words it seemed a change came upon him. An even greater majesty was now revealed in him. Taller he now looked, even like to Thingol his grandsire, and it seemed a potent power were now placed upon him. The noble hardihood of the fathers of men, the dignity and beauty of elves and the reverential wisdom and power of the Maiar. He was indeed the heir to the throne of Doriath, now fully revealed before his people.

All bowed low before him and cried again in one voice...
"Hail Dior Eluchil! Let the king now rule us in great glory and bliss!"

So it was that the Silmaril of Feanor resided once more in Doriath and its power was felt again in the woods of Neldoreth and Region, for the king wore the jewel always when he rode far and wide about his realm. Its holy light healed the dreary mood of the forest that had taken hold since Melian`s departure. Flowers bloomed bright and beautiful, smiling in the wonderfully scented airs of the land. The rivers flowed keen and clear, sparkling in the newfound light, and spoke once again with watery voices of dazzling enchantment. The forest animals throve and multiplied in the rejuvinated green woods and birds sang in glad tones under clear skies lit by sun and jewel.

Festivals long celebrated yet lately abandoned were renewed and the greenswards of Neldoreth were alive once again with the singing, the dancing and the feasting of merry elves. At the time of midsummer, the king and his people would gather beneath the mighty boles of Hirilorn even as Thingol and Melian had done of old, and there would be great merriment. Their fair music would echo softly within the quaint walls of that tree house high up in Hirilorn`s lower branches that was made aforetime for Luthien Tinuviel.
Thus led by Dior, Thingol`s Heir, and with the aid of the Silmaril, Doriath indeed regained its glory of old and its people were content.

Yet outside their realm, word slowly spread like a meandering breeze that blows from a warm place out into the open wilderness, gathering strength yet growing evermore colder.
So too were the ears that heard the tale of Doriath`s rise from ruin. Wandering elves of the Sindar were the first to hear the rumour and many forsook the now perilous wilderland and repaired to Menegroth, swelling its numbers.
Yet soon word reached the cold ears of the people of Feanor who in turn went to their lords and told them all they had heard.

Now the Oath of the sons of Feanor was waked again from sleep. Each tale of the light and joy brought to Doriath by the Silmaril, and of Dior the king riding hither and thither about his realm wearing the jewel in his pride, stung their hearts. For they themselves were become a wandering people who camped in the wilds of the south, cursing their hard fate in bitterness as they remembered their glory days of old. Therefore the six remaining princes of Feanor`s house gathered again at Amon Ereb where their greatest strength was held under Maedhros, the eldest of the brothers. There they took council with one another while spies were sent ahead to learn the ways of the land.
Soon messengers were sent out to Doriath to claim their own.

Now here must be told of a part of the Doriathrim who dwelt near the eastern eaves of Region, the mighty southern forest of the realm. They were a mingled folk of elves of Doriath who favoured the open forests to the deep caves of Menegroth, and Sindarin elves of Beleriand who had fled the Dagor Bragollach and had sought refuge with Thingol their overlord in the "guarded kingdom".
There was a small forest sundered from the main wood by the river Aros that flowed from its source in the north near the pass of Aglon. Beneath the small forest`s eastern eaves flowed the Celon that began in the northern hills around Himring where Maedhros once held his fortress before its fall. Southward the Celon would meet with the Aros and at their inflow was the beginning of that wood named Arthorien.
This stood between those two converging rivers, spreading wider as the rivers grew apart to the north until it became the sprawling land of Himlad that the sons of Feanor once held. From the eastern bank of the Celon, began the westmarches of Estolad where a mingled people of the Three Houses of the Edain still dwelt.
There was a curious friendship between the Sindar of Arthorien and the Edain of Estolad and at that time the elves of Doriath journeyed to that land, giving what aid they could to the troubled remnant of men who were at times harassed by orcs that came down from the conquered north.

So it was that one such elf was waylaid by two riders as he journeyed alone to Estolad. He was named Haldir son of Falathar and was one who had taken special pity on Estolad`s people and so journeyed to that land more often than any other for he was a master of healing and of great service to the beleagured men.

Now the two horsemen swiftly rode down towards him as he climbed a great sloping ridge that led away from the vale of the Celon to the rolling lands of Estolad. They rode upon steeds of great stature, strong and clean-limbed, with brown coats, long swishing tails and long dark manes. The riders themselves sat tall in their saddles, with free flowing raven-dark hair and grey cloaks streaming behind in the winds of their approach.

Haldir halted and awaited them as the pounding of nearing hooves rang in his ears. The riders swiftly reached him and reined in their horses, barring his way. Then they sat silent for a moment, regarding him with sharp eyes. Haldir glanced warily up at them as he stood in the dark of their steeds shadows but said nothing in growing doubt under their hard stares.

Finally one of the riders alighted from his horse and strode forward to face him.
"You are an elf of Doriath are you not?" he asked in a stern voice.

"I am lord," replied Haldir in a clear tone that sought to belie his growing fear of the two riders.

"Then you are one of those whom we seek," said the stranger with a swift turn to his companion.
He eyed Haldir a moment then asked, "Are we known to you wood elf?"

Haldir studied the two elves with great interest. They were clad in plain attire that was travel-stained from seemingly long journeying. He looked upon their faces and saw that they were very fair though the one who stood before him was fairer still. Haldir surmised that they were elves of importance for they seemed to be stern and wilful and there was a lordly air about them that they could not conceal. By their appearance, their speech and bearing, Haldir surmised that they were high lords of the Noldor. However, he could not yet tell to which house they belonged. 

"Well, are we known to you or no?" asked the seated rider impatiently. His steed gave a snort, stomping the ground as if mirroring its masters hasty mood. 

Haldir dared not chance a guess for fear of giving offence to the proud strangers.
"Forgive me my lords," he said. "I do not wish to offend, yet I am not accustomed to meeting lords of other elven houses as I so take you and therefore know not who you are. Long have I dwelt within the Girdle of Melian who is now gone and never ventured far beyond our borders, even in the peaceful days of the long siege. News from without has always come faintly to those of us who give half an ear in Doriath and the little I know of the Noldor is through the many tales and songs of their great deeds against the dark power of the north.Yet tales may only give names to unknown faces and speak of matters far removed from the quiet of the wood."

"So it has always been with you elves of Doriath!" said the elf on horseback, regarding Haldir with hard eyes. "Cozened into idling and storytelling behind the power of Melian whilst leaving the perilous deeds of war to the rest of us! Indeed I take offence that you know not the lords of those who aided the Sindar in their time of need, when Morgoth loosed his power over starlit Beleriand before the Sun and Moon!"

The elf who stood before Haldir raised a hand, checking his companion.
"Nay!" he said with a swift shake of his head. "Blame not Doriath`s people overmuch. Thingol`s haughty mood towards the Noldor had him shun us all save those of the house of Finarfin. Yet being his loyal subjects his people could only follow their lord. However, Thingol is dead and the Girdle is removed. Doriath`s time apart from the rest of Beleriand is at an end and its people would do well to heed this!"

The words of the stranger now surfaced a well of memories to Haldir`s mind of a yearned past that was no more.
"You speak gravely lord," he said solemnly. "For that may indeed be how it was with my people. Yet be that as it may, we of Doriath heed well the end of our protected peace from the sorrows of the greater realm, having just borne the brunt of fates cruel blow ourselves."

The seated rider stirred in his saddle and gave Haldir a dark look.
"And perhaps it were a good thing that you and your people finally felt the dint of battle at your own door, thus curbing the churlish pride and disdain of the Sindar of Doriath towards the Noldor, whom many ever blamed for stirring the evil of the north, though it were ravaging your lands ere we came!"

Haldir stared at the rider in amazement at his harsh words but the rider`s companion swiftly intervened.

"Peace my brother!" said the fair elf. "We are not yet come with harsh word to these folk, but are here only to deliver our message to their newly appointed king."

Haldir started at that.
"They are brothers, come with a message for Dior our king?!" he thought. His mind raced swiftly over the lords of the Noldor. They were not of Finarfin`s house as all its princes were slain. Only Turgon yet lived of Fingolfin`s sons thus leaving the princes of the eldest house of Finwe.
Haldir blanched a little yet chanced his guess.
"Permit me to ask my lords, yet could it be that you are lords of the mighty house of Feanor?"

A faint look of surprise passed over the fair elf`s face.
"Well guessed wood elf," he said. "I am Celegorm who was Lord of Himlad on a time."

Haldir bowed low before him.
"Forgive my ignorance lord Celegorm, but the quaint life of the wood so blinded me. This is indeed a great honour!"

Celegorm laughed.
"Then you are doubly honoured this day for I am also come with Lord Curufin."

Haldir turned and bowed again yet his mind was filled with doubt. The coming of powerful lords of Feanor`s house did not bode well for Doriath. The mood of these two sons of Feanor was known to all that people, as their treacherous part in Luthien`s tale was not forgotten. Moreover, their threat to Thingol over his keeping of the Silmaril was still fresh in the minds of the Doriathrim. Indeed, it was an unsaid fear in all their hearts ever since the Silmaril had returned to their land, that the sons of Feanor could now make true their threat of war against Doriath as the protection of the Girdle was no more.
Haldir guessed that this was undoubtably the purpose of their journeying and the content of their message. A dark forboding crept into his heart, yet he hid his dismay and greeted them with as fair words as came to his mind.

"Indeed I am doubly honoured this glad day to stand before such high lords of the Noldor! And I would say to my lord Curufin that though the mood of many of my kin may be as he so put it, I for my part am of a different mind and hold the Noldor in high honour and esteem for their valiant deeds and rendered service to the Sindar of Beleriand!"

Curufin said nothing but Celegorm smiled. "Well said wood elf, yet who are you?"

"I am Haldir son of Falathar and dwell within the small forest of Arthorien that lies between the the rivers Aros and Celon," he replied, pointing back to the western backdrop that looked to the distant vale of trees darkening in the deepening light of dusk.

"I see," said Celegorm, his grey eyes following the wood elf`s gesture. "Yet for one who claims to be so road shy in having hardly left the protection of the Girdle, we somehow find you far from your home."

"That is true lord," Haldir steadily replied. "However, I was nearing my journeys end, for I was on my way to Estolad where a remnant of the Edain still dwell. It may be accounted a long journey on foot as you see me, yet not so far from my home by steed."
Here Haldir walked over to Celegorm`s horse and raised a hand to pet its head. Yet the horse gave a reluctant snort, turned its great head away and backed off a few paces. The wood elf slowly turned back to Celegorm, dismayed and embarassed under stern eyes that momentarily lit up with distant amusement.
Haldir sighed. "Alas my people have no horses to speak of and so we make do on our own two legs. Yet do not think I deceived you my lord, for Estolad is indeed the furthest I have ever ventured beyond the forests of my home."

"And what business would you have with the Edain who dwell there?" asked Celegorm.

"There has been a friendship between my folk and theirs that began soon after the main hosts of their people left for their later realms," answered Haldir, wondering where their questioning would lead and of what importance would their knowing of his friendship with the Edain be in their councils.

"I find that hard to believe, as your kings mood towards men was perhaps harsher than was towards us," said Celegorm.

"My lord Thingol`s mood towards men was indeed unfriendly in those days," replied Haldir. "Yet he saw our friendship as being harmless enough in his policies and so let it be, though none of the Edain were ever permitted to pass the Girdle, even to our small forest. Be that as it may, our friendship grew closer still after Morgoth`s power was loosed upon the world again. Throughout the perilous years my folk have given aid and comfort to that people and of late they in turn have comforted us in our own sorrows of the day."

Curufin scowled, alighted from his steed and strode forward to face Haldir who took a fearful step back on seeing the prince`s disdainful look.

"So you would deal with that traitorous race!" said Curufin. "Though it surprises me little as you dark elves are as lowly as the accursed race of men and suit each other well. Yet as if that were not enough, you would now claim our birthright in your insolence and so gain an undeserved joy, happiness and strength from it while its true heirs suffer in the wilderness, their realms destroyed and their people and lords bereft of all their power and glory of old through battles waged not only for the Noldor, but all the free peoples of Beleriand!"

His flashing eyes now scornfully appraised Haldir from head to toe.
"Answer me this O Sindar. Who instructed your wandering kin in their advancement from the rude ways of the wilderness to the noble ways of Aman? Yet know this dark elf! The ancient light that was there before Arien and Tilion rode the pathways of the sky does not belong to you and your people. A skill and labour beyond the furthest reach of your thought went into preserving it! An Oath beyond all oaths was sworn to claim it! And many a grim deed was done on the long road to retake it! You elves of Doriath do not fully comprehend your peril by witholding the Silmaril from we the sons of Feanaro!"
He turned to his brother. "Give him our message Turcafinwe and let him begone! We did not come all this way to exchange friendly banter with these elvish thieves!"

Celegorm produced a rolled up parchment, sealed by a wax stamp of the heraldic emblem of the house of Feanor.
"Receive now this Haldir son of Falathar," he said as he handed it to the wood elf.
"Herein lies the word of all the remaining sons of Feanor, urging yet again the surrender of the Silmaril to the house of its maker. We are come to claim our own Haldir, and yet mark you, we are come in peace, hoping that your king shall return what is ours to us in good faith.
I see your dismay at my brothers harsh words yet take heed, for he has much cause for his anger and grief. Our father left it to his sons to retrieve his great work. Should we now leave it in the hands of yet another who would withold it against his dying wish? Our Oath of old was not spoken lightly Haldir but remains the scion of the Noldor`s grave choice in treading the long road to Middle-earth, forsaking even the blessed realm of Aman!

Do you hear Haldir! This business of the Silmaril is well above the simple minds of the quaint forests of Doriath.
Yet I would blame Thingol who named it, and Dior who now keeps it, for it is only by their grasping choices that the quiet of your woods is threatened.
I therefore implore you son of Falathar, go to your king and persuade him if you must to see clearly in this matter for much shall rest on his answer for good or for ill. However, know that either way the Silmaril is ours. Not only by our desire for our fathers unimitable work, but of greater import it is by our very right as his sons that we so claim it!"

He paused a moment as if to regain his composure for the light of his eyes had brightened as his own anger seemed to heighten with his words. Haldir looked at the two princes fearfully, for it seemed that under their fair countenances was a perilous fey mood that would stop at nothing to regain their fathers work.

"There!" said Celegorm as he seemingly mastered himself. "We have spoken, you have heard and now you must go! However, be swift for we await Dior`s answer here!"

Curufin put in, "Indeed make haste for you would not want to keep the sons of Feanaro waiting or we may enter into Doriath ourselves, and unbidden, seek for what is ours as the way is now open to all!"

Haldir shuddered inwardly at the threat yet bowed low before them and said,
"My lords, I have indeed taken heed to all you have said and admit that these high policies are far above me. Yet what I do fully grasp is that one war was enough for Doriath which suffered so because of it. Far more grievous would it be for another to be waged against Thingol`s realm, and evermore so were it now between elf and elf!"

Curufin looked at him with a stony face, his eyes glinting in the mounting dark.
"That came to pass once before dark elf as you well know and so shall again if we are refused a second time by the Teleri! Yet you are overbold to berate the sons of Feanaro so! Swiftly would I have dealt with your insolence had we not needed you to run our errand. Go now I tell you and pray your king be wise for his people as well as himself!"

Haldir bowed again with great fear in his heart. "I shall deliver your message to Dior my king and pray that wisdom shall prevail for us all!"

With that, he turned and began the long journey to Menegroth. The sons of Feanor stood silent as they watched Haldir`s form fade into the twilight of dusk. Afar off, rising above the river valley, the forest line of Arthorien stood, crowned with the reddened sky of sunset that darkened as it merged with the starlit night overhead.
There was the sound of approaching horses but the brothers did not stir. Soon ten riders had pulled up beside them and there they sat, silent, their fair elven faces grim to look upon yet their eyes shone in the mounting dark as they stared intently towards Doriath......



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Author`s Commentary:

Well, here is where I try to explain my take on the Fall of Doriath and why I wrote the things I did.
Firstly, I am trying to give what I would see as a feasable account of the events leading up to the final attack on Doriath.
The inspiration behind my approach is the Unfinished Tales volume. In that book Tolkien gives fairly detailed accounts of events barely touched in the Silmarillion.
For instance, in the tale of Turin we are introduced to a host of characters and are party to far more dialogue. So we see Turin`s friendship with Labadal, his friendship with Nellas. How he joined the outlaws and his interactions with Androg and Mim. Who can forget the detailed account of Glaurung`s demise and Nienor`s suicide. What is revealed is very interesting and it really saddens the reader to know that had Tolkien taken the time, he could have written the Silmaril in such wonderful detail, producing a book that would have probably doubled the size of LOTR.
What a book that would have been! After reading the Silmarillion, I see the LOTR as being somewhat stale. All the great events took place during the First Age yet we have to make do the a detailed account of the Third Age where things are far tamer and wearied. But that is just my opinion. 
Anyway, in reading The Unfinished Tales, one can only imagine what Tolkien`s detailed take on say, the Nirnaeth Arnoediad would have been. Or his detailed description of Beren`s horrific journey through Nan Dungortheb. Or his take on the various interesting speeches, friendships and alliances made during the Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting.
There is such a wealth of unexplored stories in his universe that he never touched on, that it is truly frustrating to even think about. All he left were enticing half finished works.
Still, we must be thankful. Thankful for Fanfic that is, for what he left unfinished as our guide, we as fanfic writers can only try to finish. We may never have his flair for language and classic writing, but we all attempt to give our own interpretations of events and hope we are as near to what the source would have thought and wanted.

So, I have chosen the Ruin of Doriath to be the tale that is open to my interpretation. Why? Well it`s a story that has very little said about it in any of Tolkien`s works, and yet is to my mind one of the most important events to take place in the First Age. The first time in Middle-earth and the second time in history that elves slew elves.
It always makes me chuckle when I think of what would have happened if the Silmarillion were never published. Can you imagine the flak a fanfic writer would have suffered had he wrote a story of noble elves plotting to kill other noble elves, and actually going ahead with it! Purists from all over would have cried foul, deeming that the holier than thou elves, as they are portrayed in LOTR, would have never even conceived of commiting such terrible acts. It would have been utterly impossible, as thoughts of malice, treachery and hatred were not in elven nature. The adventurous writer would have been roundly accused of seeking to demean Tolkien`s high-minded idea of elves.
Thank God for JRR`s Silmarillion that would debunk such myth and hail that unelf-like behaviour as undisputed canon. It says a lot for slash fic, for who knows where Tolkien`s sensibilities might have taken him if he had somehow survived to our modern times. But that is another subject.

Now in tackling the Fall Of Doriath, where would one begin? A brief summarised opening would be where.
For me, the tale of the (Second) fall of Doriath, begins with Dior receiving the Silmaril from Ossiriand. In the summarised version in the Silmarillion, (which is the backbone of my version), Dior is alone when he receives the jewel from an un-named lord of Ossiriand. He stares long at it in grief over his parents apparent death. I decided to add an intimate moment with Nimloth his wife because it intros her important character to the tale and in such a moment of grief, she would be the fitting one to comfort Dior.
Dior would afterwards have had to have shown the Silmaril to his people and tell them that Beren and Luthien were now really dead. That is the occasion I have used, to have Dior put on the Nauglamir and appear as the fairest of all the children of Iluvatar before all his people.

In the process, the Silmaril shows its power by giving hope to his dismayed folk.
I think it`s feasable to portray the Silmaril in that light and not just as a mere jewel. Tolkien himself states in the Silmarillion that the jewels were indeed, living things. And being so means that they could have had their own agenda in matters.
So the Silmaril uses its power to somewhat enhance Dior, assigning to him a look of greater authority. At the time of this story, Dior was only about 36 years old and though he was very noble (being the son of Luthien), with a firm will that had led the Doriathrim in the restoration of their realm, he would still have seemed a bit of a lightweight as compared to the great majesty of Thingol.
The jewel therefore grants him the look he would have achieved over many centuries of living, since in the oncoming months he shall have to become a bastion of hope to his beleagued people. It is better for the Doriathrim to be led in battle by a king of Thingol`s great stature and presence, than by one only newly come to manhood.
So here we see that the Silmaril already knows the grim fate of Doriath and is kind of preparing the elves who shall have to defend it. It`s in a sense using its great power to influence the Doriathrim to champion its cause as it can`t go back to the Feanorrim, so its power installs hope in their hearts. Much more shall become apparent in the following chapters.

The next thing is of the sons of Feanor finding out that Dior now has their jewel and they send some elves to claim their own. I made it Celegorm and Curufin because they have always seemed to be vehement in their pursuit of the jewels and they are inseperable in most of their endevours. I dont think they would have entered into the great forests of Doriath, out of wariness, since they know that once the reason behind their errand is known, it is not going to be to the Doriathrim`s liking. I think they would have looked for preferably one of the Sindar to deliver their written request. In this case it is Haldir who lives in Arthorien.
The whole idea behind the friendship between the Sindar of Arthorien and the Edain of Estolad is loosely based on the friendship between the Edain of Brethil and Beleg and the marchwardens, who aid Halmir lord of The Haladin in battle against the orcs of Sauron or Gorthaur as he was named in the First Age.

When it comes to Haldir`s meeting with the princes, Celegorm is naturally far more diplomatic than Curufin because, well, Curufin is more or less Feanor in the story, since he was closest in all traits to his father. While I have always pictured Celegorm as being decent enough, that is until you defy him in some way, scorn and disdain come naturally to Curufin whose mood has been described by Tolkien as perilous and crafty. Not a very nice customer.

So there you have it. The first chapter to this story. Its mode is up close and personal in parts so it`s going to be long, but I hope you will enjoy it for the full duration.

Dedicated to the wonderful world of Fanfic...


Chapter 2 - "GRAVE MESSAGES"

THE FALL OF DORIATH
*MELETH NIN is Sindarin for "My love".
**MELWEN is Sindarin for "Beloved".

Chapter Two...
"GRAVE MESSAGES" 

Dior sat now in his chamber as a king content with his kingdom, his power at rest and whose people dwelt in gentle bliss. All was well yet a sense of unease had come into his heart of late.
A faint chill in the warm sun, a far shadow on a bright horizon. What it forboded he could not yet fathom, but the unease of it grew in him as the days went by.

Now he had his family before him and it were at joyful times such as these when the shadow would recede and give him peace for a while. Beside him sat Nimloth his wife with their daughter cradled in her arms, while before them were their twin sons, playing at their ease. He looked upon Elured and Elurin with great pride for though they were yet young, being of eight summers, they were a wonder to all in Doriath as they were far matured for their age and both held the distant promise of becoming great lords of the Sindar. 

Elured was the elder and like to his mother in appearance. He was fair haired and wide eyed with delicate features that were very fair to behold as was Nimloth, that fair queen of Doriath. Quiet was his mood, being less apt to talk and seldom inclined to laughter. Yet it was his trait to listen to the speech of others and afterwards searchingly question minds in a bid to understand purposes. Indeed, "Celeglhaw" (Quick Ears) was a name given to him by many, though "Saelcund" (Wise Prince) was much used.

Elurin the younger was however like to his father in appearance, being dark haired and fairer of face than his elder brother. His mood was more jovial, quick to laughter and swift in speech. His young delight was in the knowledge of all things tutored to him, be it the long histories of Middle-earth, or the few tales of Aman that had come down to the Sindar through their Noldorin brethren or Melian the Maiar. He was at times called "Baranauth" (Eager Thought) by those close to him, or "Maencund" (Clever Prince) by his tutors.

Yet Elwing the youngest was a child of the very likeness of Luthien. She had graced the world for only three summers yet already had the same dark tresses, the same smile that brought joy to all who were bequeathed its pleasure and the same dark beauty that promised to resemble that which only the elf ministrels could recall in song. Indeed the flame of Elwing`s beauty as she wore the Silmaril at such times as Dior adorned her, was the wonder of all Doriath. It eased their hearts knowing that there was one who was of Luthien`s beauty in female form that still blessed their land. She was therefore called "Luthieniell" (Luthien`s Daughter) by most or "Bainrin" (Beautiful Queen).

Now Nimloth looked up from her daughter who lay asleep in her arms. She turned to Dior and observed him staring warmly at their sons. It pleased her to see him so as his mood had been somewhat sullen of late as if he were troubled in thought. Yet she failed to see what could possibly worry him as all seemed well.
"Meleth nin*," she said softly. "Of late you have not been yourself as something seems to trouble you. I thought you would sooner share your worry yet you have said naught. Therefore I would speak first and ask what is it that ails you?"

Dior turned to his wife.
"What would I say Nimloth. I cannot answer for I myself know not the reason for the persistent dark that has afflicted me. Long have I pondered on what it might be but I have neither dreamt of aught to warn me nor has foresight been granted to guide me."
He slowly shook his head, his beautiful face darkened with doubt.
"Yet I do not know," he said in a low voice. "I almost fear for our continued bliss here in Doriath!"

Nimloth instinctively held Elwing closer as if guarding her child from the imagined woes that her husband now portended. Unease crept into her heart and she turned her wide gaze to her sons, innocent and delighting in their play. She had already begun to fear for their safety but Dior saw her apparent distress and took her hand in a comforting gesture.

"Do not worry melwen**," he said with a disarming smile.
"It could be nothing but foolish fears. Our people and realm have never been better and we are blessed with the wholesome power of the Silmaril in our midst. We shall be fine!"

But Nimloth was far from comforted, for when he spoke of the Silmaril a sudden chill passed over her heart. Perhaps it were not so good after all that the jewel had returned to them as she felt that whatever ill would come to Doriath in the future, would be because of that work of Feanor.
"Indeed it is strange that you should feel so troubled when all is good under your reign," she said to her husband.
"Yet I will admit to a chill that passed over my hearts happiness when you mentioned the Silmaril and that troubles me all the more. However, I will not look too deeply into what that may yet mean to me, but I would take back my words to you when the jewel first came to us. Receive it now in hope I said then, but woe be to us if the jewel has us pay for the light it has so far given by bringing darkness to Doriath once more!"

Her words were grim and Dior sighed, noting that he would not have the peace of mind that usually came to him when he was in the presence of his beloved family. He was about to say more in a bid to soothe his wife when he saw Elured leave his play and come towards him. He turned back to Nimloth and saw her suppress her newfound fears with a forced smile at her sons approach.

Soon the young prince was stood before his chair with a questioningly look on his young face.
"Father," he said. "I have been given many names yet I would ask what Aranhil means as I am called that by many of our people?" 

"You are the eldest of my children Elured," said the king, "And therefore held to be The Kings Heir and next in line to the throne. But that name is not far from the meaning of the name I gave to you which is 'Heir of Elu'." 

"Yet why should I be held as the next in line to the throne if you are already king?" Elured asked. He paused a moment, then a sudden look of distress came over his fair face.
"Unless you are to leave us! Where are you going father?" 

Dior smiled gently.
"I am not going anywhere my son... at least not as far as I can see. Yet know that I too was named heir of Thingol, your great grandsire who is now gone."

Elured turned away, apparently answered yet he suddenly turned back to his father.
"That`s something I`ve always heard and yet wondered," he said. "For where did he go? I`ve heard people say in sadness that Thingol our long king is no more and Lord Haradion says our great grandsire has passed away. Yet he`ll say no more whenever I further question him as to what that means.
Won`t you tell me father? Did he tire of ruling his realm and so leave it to you? And if he did, where does he live now and why doesn`t he come to visit us or we to visit him?" 

Dior looked at his son gravely. So it was with Saelcund who was ever wont to ask the searching questions that had no easy answers.
"To your first question I would say nay Elured, he did not tire of ruling Doriath. He was a mighty king, revered and adored by all. He would never have tired from ruling the people he loved and the realm he cherished.
Yet in answer to your second question I would say that it is true that he still left us, for he passed on to his long home in the West. But know that once you are called hither, you cannot refuse the summons whether you would or no. And when you are gone you cannot come back, for it is very, very far away and so are we also unable to visit him in return." 

Elured remained silent with a thoughtful look but Elurin, who had been listening in the wings, stepped forward.
"The West!" he said. "Lord Haradion has taught something of it to us in his tutorings. Isn`t that where the great powers of the world who are called the Valar dwell?" 

"Indeed Baranauth," replied Dior, smiling at his sons eagerness to show his gained knowledge.
"Yet they are not alone for many elves dwell with them, even those who are of our kin. That is the long home of all the elves of Middle-earth." 

"Is that where the race of men also go father?" asked Elurin. "Isn`t that where our beloved grandsire and grandam have gone?" 

Dior saw that he was in for a hard grilling from both his sons and answered solemnly,
"It is said there are also halls set aside for the race of men, yet they tarry not for long within the circles of the world but soon take to ship and cross the Sundering Seas that lie in the uttermost West. Where they sail to is not known, but this doom is said to be the gift of "The One" to men:
That the fullness of their fates be achieved elsewhere, outside the circles of Arda." 

Here Elured broke his silence.
"So is that where we shall go if we are ever summoned, as I`ve heard that we have some kinship with the race of men?" 

Dior gazed at his son for a moment, surprised by his grave question. He turned to Nimloth who remained silent with downcast eyes. Seldom was she inclined to discuss that side of her husband and her childrens fate in Arda. It was a grave topic as the grief of the feared outcome was too much for Nimloth to bear. She was of elven-kind whereas Dior and their children had mortal blood. Would Dior in time leave her to widowhood and her children leave her in bereavement as they succumbed to their mortality? It was hoped that perhaps the elven side of their being would prove the more potent and therefore grant them the life of the Eldar. Yet how it would prove in the end, none knew.

He turned back to Elured and answered truthfully.
"Indeed my son, the blood of men flows in our veins. Yet if truth be told, I do not know under which kindred we shall be judged." 

But Elured replied, "And if truth be told on my part, I don`t ever want to go into the West or over the Sundering Seas! Neither do I want you or any other that I love to go. I would have you refuse the summons and stay here in Doriath and always be king!" 

Dior stared at Elured in wonder at his words. He turned to Nimloth who gazed at her son with a motherly look of concern. What grim mood had come over his first born that would out such talk.
After a silent moment he answered gravely.
"That is perhaps as Thingol would have wished for himself also! Alas, it was not fated so, though long did he live and rule. Now I am king and am content as are my people, yet we know not what is fated ahead. However, even if it were so that I am doomed to swiftly pass away, it gladdens my heart still to know that you two sons of mine shall become the lords of our people."
"And," he added with a sidelong glance, "It is hoped that you shall rule with the same prudential wisdom that I see in your questioning. But come! Do not think overmuch of such things Elured for your young mind should not be burdened by such grave matters. To bed now for it is late!"

Nimloth now stood and declared that she would relieve her maidens of their duty for the night and put the children to bed herself. He kissed the brow of each of his sons and Nimloth held Elwing close for him to kiss his sleeping daughter`s cheek. As they turned to leave he blessed them saying, "May the Valar protect and bless you and the morning lighten each of your hearts thoughts!"

Nimloth ushered their sons through the doorway and turned back to Dior.
"Will we soon continue our talk?" she asked in a serious tone.

"Indeed we shall." answered Dior with a gentle nod.

Nimloth bowed her head in courtesy.
"My lord." she said in parting and passed out of his chamber.

When they were gone he sat back in his chair in deep thought. The mood of disquiet settled all the heavier over him as the words of Elured returned to his mind. That a heavy mood should now come down even upon his young son, further added to his forboding. Yet all seemed well in his realm!
Indeed, there was more joy and prosperity than ever before. Yet Nimloth`s grim view and his own doubts had him think that perhaps the flame of the Silmaril burned too brightly in the land, blinding him and his people to the many perils that now crept outside his borders. He made a point to himself to give urgent thought to the defense of his realm as the Girdle was no more and he knew there were enemies other than orcs who would see Doriath`s destruction.

He turned to look about his chamber. That place was named Sam-uin-Ennin (The Chamber of Birth), and had been Thingol`s private room, set aside for his quiet contemplation. About the walls were oaken shelves brimming with books, documents and scrolls of a wide assortment. These were precious reams written by Thingol himself, of his own lore. Much could be found there of the old king`s musings and purposes. It was a favoured pastime of Dior to read them and so fathom somewhat the wise mind of his grandfather. He himself had begun to write of his experiences as king, and of his own lore, hoping that they would one day be of use to his sons and later descendants.


His gaze rose to the great tapestries that hung in the chamber. There was one on each wall to the left, right and front of him. Those tapestries were woven by Melian herself and depicted the most joyous moments of Thingol`s long life. 

On the right wall was depicted an elf standing in a forest clearing that was surrounded by tall trees. The sky above was of a dark blanket of night, illuminated by a multitude of bright stars. However, the lustre of a stronger light was cast on the earth and all about the glade as the elf`s face was lit by a vision at which he stared agape in wonder.
Ahead of him stood a figure of a lady, surrounded by a strong glow of silver light that was cast all about the forest clearing. She was clad in raiment of shining white and her long dark tresses flowed freely at full length as if caught in a breeze of potent power. The heavenly beauty of her face was turned towards the elf and her bright eyes smiled upon the wonder in his stare. It seemed that she sang with outstretched arms and there were many Nightingales portrayed that fluttered about her with chirping mouths, singing along to her blissful enchantments. That was the birth of Thingol and Melian`s love as it was of their ancient meeting deep within the enchanted forest of Nan Elmoth. 

Hung on the left wall were Thingol and Melian in a scene depicting the birth of their kingdom. They now stood in a forest clearing before a multitude of Telerin elves who had refused to forsake their lord and leave Middle-earth for the blessed realm. These would indeed become the Sindar of Eglador which would in time be renamed Doriath. Now there was Thingol with his Maiar queen and he himself transformed into the likeness of a Maiar lord with hair shining grey silver and standing above all other heads as the tallest of all the children of Iluvatar. 

Dior turned his gaze to the largest tapestry of the three that spanned the entire front wall from end to end. It showed a starlit sky that cast a silver sheen over the forest top of Neldoreth. Beneath the beech trees stood a mighty throng of elves, many of whom bore gifts while others bore musical instruments and played to the many who were singing and dancing. At the center of the merrymaking was Thingol whose arms were held about Melian who sat on the green grass at his feet. Yet all eyes in that picture were turned to the babe held in Melian`s arms for there lay Luthien as she had just come into the world and the green forest floor was dotted with the white flowers of Niphredil that first grew in that hour to greet her. 

Dior smiled at the memories of his mother that surfaced. The sound of her sweet song to him as a babe. Her tender care for him as a child. Her wise instruction to him as a young man. Her proud words for him as he came to full manhood.
He turned again to the tapestry of Thingol and Melian as they stood before their people.
"Much have I done to preserve your ancient realm O Thingol Lord of Beleriand," he said softly. "So shall it remain unless an evil greater than our strength comes to destroy us!" 

Even as he said these words there came a knock at his door.
"Enter!" said Dior. 

Authir his doorwarden entered and bowed.
"My lord. One has come who says he has journeyed from Arthorien and bears with him a message of great import." 

"And what of it?" asked the king. 

"I do not know my lord," replied Authir. "All he would say when questioned was that all that pertained to the message was for the lord of Doriath`s eyes and ears alone. However, he respectfully requested that you not delay to see him as those who had sent him yet awaited your answer." 

At that the feeling of forboding waxed the heavier in Dior`s heart and it seemed to him that a doom long feared were now to be visited upon him and his realm.
"Let him enter," he said, "And let us not be disturbed!" 

Authir bowed and exited the chamber. 
Soon there came an elf who haltingly entered as one fearful and full of awe in the presence of his lord and liege. He fell to one knee and for a moment was silent with bowed head under the king`s stern gaze.
Yet he finally sought courage, raised his eyes and said,
"My lord, I am named Haldir son of Falathar and belong to those of your people who dwell in the forest of Arthorien on the eastern borders of your land." 

The king`s face softened.
"Then I welcome you to Menegroth son of Falathar. Rise now and sit with me. Indeed it is seldom that we should see one of our folk from Arthorien grace our fair halls." 

"I am truly deeply honoured my lord," said Haldir as he sat down before Dior, warmed by the king`s gracious words. 

"I am also aware of the friendship that lies between your folk and the men of Estolad," said Dior. "Therefore the honour is mine that I should meet with one of Doriath who has aided the race of my father and his kin. How goes it with the Edain who dwell there? Of late my mind has turned to that land and I have thought to bring its people into the greater protection of our forests." 

"Their plight is worse than before my lord," replied Haldir, slowly shaking his head. "As is all else in Beleriand with the waning of the years. Yet they still defend that ancient land of their fathers though the enemy would roam about their lands doing harm at every ill chance. Indeed we elves marvel at their hardihood and aid them whenever we can as did the dwarves, who before their wicked fall, used to come at times in great numbers as they passed by on the great road. 
But now the Edain are few for many have been slain over the years and more fled to their kin in other lands. However, those who were boldest among them remained and their sons have become bolder than their fathers. It is because of this that I would say that though the notion of bringing Estolad`s people into the protection of the wood is wise and merciful, they would refuse such favour." 

The king frowned. "And why pray tell would any refuse safer harbouring from the perils of Morgoth?" 

"Why indeed my lord," said Haldir solemnly. "Yet I speak with some authority in this for many times have my folk tried to convince them to seek admittance into Doriath from you my lord. But their valiance has also made them a proud people, refusing wise council and trusting rather to their strength in arms. However, I would say they are admirably proud for there are none among them who would now forsake the eldest realm of all the three houses of the Edain in Beleriand. They would endure all hardships and fight unto the bitter end when the dark power should surely sweep them all away. They fill me and my folk with pity for they are dear to us and we would only wish for what is best for their wellbeing!" 

Dior sat silent, troubled by the news. The realms of the elf-friends were all but destroyed. Dorthonion, the land of the House of Beor had fallen after the Dagor Bragollach, whilst Dor-Lomin, of the House of Malach and Hador, had ended with the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Only the gleanings of those two Houses were now joined with the Haladin of Brethil. Estolad was the only other realm of the Edain to survive the onslaught of Morgoth and therefore all the more grievous for the race of men were it to fall to the enemy.

Finally he said, "Alas! Now I join you in that concern and pity, for I would also have them as safe as I could make them."
After another moments pause, he sighed.
"Well, things will go as they will. When chance permits I shall send an envoy to try and persuade them to remove to our safer lands encompassed by our great forests. Until then I would not have us give up hope, but rather continue to aid them in all we can until such time as they find it in themselves to humble their pride and accept our counsel." 

Haldir stood and bowed low before the king saying, "It shall be done my lord!"
"Not for naught is the king named Aranel, 'The Noble Elf'," thought the wood elf. "There could not have been a better fitting heir to Thingol than this blessed son of Luthien."
Haldir`s heart was high with renewed hope for his friends. 

"Now," said Dior. "We move on to matters of greater import, for I have heard that you are come on an urgent errand." 

At that, a troubled look came over Haldir`s face and he slowly retook his seat. His joy was extinguished by the descending shadow of doubt that came with the tidings he was now asked to share. 

"What now ails you Haldir?" asked Dior, perceiving his sudden change of mood. "Why the look of dismay at my mere mention of your errand?" 

Haldir remained silent, sitting with his head bowed. It was at that moment, more than any other, that he loathed his part in the grave matters of the Silmaril. 

"Is the true purpose of your coming so not to your liking that you would now repent of it?" asked the king. "Come now! What is this message of request that demands my urgent answer? I bid you! Say all that you would to me!" 

Haldir slowly raised his head in answer to Dior`s command.
"Forgive me O king, and pardon my silence! Yet loath am I to deliver that for which I was sent, as it shall serve only to add to your concerns and may in time become a grief to all your people!" 

The king`s stern gaze returned.
"Those are grave words son of Falathar," he said, slowly leaning forward. "Who sent you hither, bearing tidings of such ill omen for me and my people?" 

Haldir had no choice. He had to speak. He was commanded to speak.
"My lord, the message I bear comes from the sons of Feanor!" 

"The sons of Feanor you say!" said Dior, leaning back in his chair as his fears were realised. Haldir did not reply, but sat with downcast eyes. An ominous silence descended on the room.
The king now thought to himself.
"So the doom of Doriath now comes to the final point as I have long feared! They are come to claim their own no doubt, yet shall it be the Silmaril`s fate to return to their house? Or if it be otherwise, shall Doriath hope to withstand the wrath of Feanor`s sons and prevail? Are my people prepared for yet another assault, as they are but newly healed from their past sorrows of war?" 
Finally he sighed and said aloud, "Alas that this grief should come so soon to disturb the newfound peace of Doriath!" 

But Haldir, being deeply moved by his king`s sorrow said, "Alas that it should be Haldir son of Falathar who bears this new grief to his lord! May the king forgive him!" 

The king turned to him.
"Nay! No blame is laid on you for you are but the bearer of these ill tidings. It is also news long forseen, for how long could we of Doriath truly have hoped to retain the jewel without any word from the sons of Feanor? Nay! This doom was wrought the very day the Silmaril was delivered to me! Now come Haldir! Tell me of your meeting with those who sent you on their errand to Dior of Doriath!" 

Then Haldir related to the king all that had been said between him and the two princes Celegorm and Curufin. When he was done, the king asked to be handed the message. Haldir produced the rolled up parchment and gave it to the king.
Dior opened it and read...

Amon Ereb, Year 506 of the Sun.

To Dior Lord Of Doriath.
News has reached our ears that a Silmaril of our father burns in the woods of your realm. Now our claim over the Silmarils that is bound by our Oath of old is known to all in Beleriand. An Oath that none can take, or break and is binding to the very end of the world and should call the everlasting dark on he who keeps it not! Of such gravity do we hold this matter O Lord of Doriath, for we named Manwe and Varda and the very mount of Taniquetil upon which they dwell to bear witness! 

Our vow remains thus...
"To pursue with vengeance and hatred to the very ends of the world, Vala, demon of Morgoth, elf, man or any creature good or evil who should so hold, take or keep a Silmaril from our possession!"
This we vowed in the name of Iluvatar himself! Thus is our Oath written in the tale of the world. 

Now it has come to us that you keep the Silmaril that was rescued by your father and mother from the Iron Crown of Angband. We have heard tell of how you have used its power, healing the hurts of your people and land with its light, bringing joy back to your realm. We do not begrudge you your good fortunes as all that is well done by the Silmaril is also a joy to us. However, the time has come to return it to its true heirs who have waited patiently in the dark for it. You have read the words of our grave Oath for yourself, yet we would have you know that we have not carried out its harsh edicts in mercy, leaving you awhile to raise again your kingdom. 

Thus we have honoured those whose great deeds won the jewel from the enemy. Therefore let it not be said that the sons of Feanor are proud and unyielding in all their dealings with the Silmarils, for we have shown great restraint and understanding in this.

Yet we also have need of our fathers work as we have many hurts that need to be healed, as we are also compelled by our Oath and our fathers dying wish.
Therefore we ask you Dior Eluchil, Lord of Doriath, in all devotion to your wisdom, that you surrender the Silmaril to the house of Feanor and so lay to rest our Oath, as well as give hope for us to raise anew the glory of the Noldor in Beleriand.

We await your answer in earnest...
The six sons of Feanor,
Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin and Amrod.


The king looked up from the letter, his face thoughtful as he pondered on all he had read. Haldir looked to the king expectantly.

Dior finally turned to him. 
"When did you receive this?" 

"It were yester-eve when I received it my lord," replied Haldir. 

"Then you have travelled far, seventy miles and more, through the night with no rest," said the king. "I thank you son of Falathar and bid you rest now, for you must be weary. A council shall be held tomorrow of which you may be summoned. Till then I bid you tell no one of this matter!" 

Haldir stood and bowed once again, "I shall do as you wish my lord," he said. 

Dior called out to his doorwarden.
"See to it that this good elf receives the best of food and lodging while he stays with us." 

Authir bowed and led Haldir away. Dior turned once more to the tapestry of Thingol and Melian as they stood before their people. 

"Unless an evil greater than our strength should come to destroy us!" he said softly.



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Author`s Commentary:

In this second chapter we jump back to Menegroth with Dior feeling uneasy. Tolkien liked the idea of forboding and foretelling. As a wise king who is imbued with the Silmaril`s power, Dior would certainly have felt the approach of peril, though he`s not quite sure what the danger is. His mood here can be likened to Idril, Turgon`s daughter, whose heart misgave her at the approach of the doom of Gondolin. I also wanted a scene with Dior and his family, as I have always wondered what Nimloth and his twin sons were like. It`s a kind of a poignant moment for them, as Dior, his wife and even his child, all kind of foretell their grim futures.
The next part is Haldir`s conversation with Dior and his handing over the message. I felt there would have been talk on the Edain of Estolad as Dior would have been interested since he was part mortal. With many Sindarin elves flocking to his realm, not to mention Dior`s own connection to the race of men, I don`t think it far-fetched to have him think of even inviting the Edain to stay within the greater protection of Doriath.
Yet I have always pictured the Edain to be valiantly proud, especially those from the eldest realm of men in Beleriand. They wouldn`t have wanted to be subject to elvish laws, as they might have, had they moved. Their proud stance is reminiscent of Barahir and his twelve companions who would not yield though they had lost everything. There is also the fateful decision by the Men of Dor-Lomin in their last stand in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. They did not wish in their hearts to leave the Northlands if they could not win back their homes. The Edain of Estolad would have certainly felt the same, though they were grateful for the elvish help they received.

After the initial talk, the true purpose of Haldir`s coming is revealed and Dior reads the message.
My take on the letter is that the sons of Feanor, though grim, would have at that time been less proud than before. Fate hadn`t been kind to them for they had lost the great war and with it, many of their people. Their ensuing life of wandering in Ossiriand would have been somewhat humbling. So instead of the harsh wording they gave to Thingol before, they would now try to be diplomatic at the least, not overly emphasizing the threatening nature of their Oath, but showing uncharacteristic leniency and quietly honouring Beren and Luthien`s great deed that won the jewel. This would have been a genuine sentiment as well as an attempt to coddle the Sindar into surrendering their jewel.

I think it makes the story more interesting, by not portraying the sons of Feanor as outright jerks or evil elves. But more on that later. After reading the letter, we see Dior make up his mind to have a council with which to discuss the matter with his lords. But that comes in the next chapter!
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