Exploring Westernesse [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Crossed Swords

The clanging of swords rang out in the golden light of dawn. Black boots left soft prints in the light dusting of snow that lay over the sandy training ground. As three swords crossed, one mithril and two of hardy elven steel, the two opponents' breathing became raged against the cold and the fierce attacks.

No matter how often she trained with Maedhros, Míril could rarely beat him. Even after all these long years, he held mastery over both swords. He said it was the only good thing to ever come of their oath. She, on the other hand, had mastered only the one stance. But she had mastered it, especially in the years since arriving in the Blessed Realm.

Spinning away from Maedhros, she had to duck as his left sword swung where her head had been mere moments before. Míril choked on a half laugh, half gasp. But she didn't stumble. Instead she straightened up, circling him several places away, and adjusted her blame in the process.

Aramacil, the Sword of Dawn, glittered nearly white in the sun. The light danced off the mithril hilt and five jewels, four red for her children and a blue on the crossguard that almost glowed of its own accord. Aulë had said it would glisten gold in the presence of Darkness, though he hoped she would never have to use it for anything but fighting in the tournaments or training with the Eagle Guard.

Maedhros watched her across the way. She could see him starting to smile. He had the height, he had the strength, every advantage belonged to him. But as she looked over his shoulder and saw a few figures approaching, she realized there was one thing he didn't have.

Míril gave a shrill whistle. Almost at once, as Maedhros narrowed his eyes in suspicion, a massive golden hound streaked up the path from the care of Elladan. Auriel, the descendant of Huan the Hound, crashed into Maedhros and threw him off balance. Míril laughed as she stepped on his right wrist and placed her sword on his throat.

"Yield."

"That was cheating."

"And how many times have you told me that the enemy will always cheat?"

Míril stepped away from him with a grin. She knew she'd won, even as Maedhros sat up and tried to push Auriel out of his face. Laughter sounded from behind them both as Elladan and Fingon finally reached them.

"I don't know if I should be concerned that Auriel listens to you without question," Elladan said, "or if I shouldn't even be surprised. You seem to be able to do that quite well with elves too."

After helping Maedhros off the ground, Fingon just laughed. "Truly, she inherited the speech of Fëanor himself, when she decides to use it."

"Elrohir is better than any of us at spinning words," Elladan said. "But Míril seems to be learning from him just as she learns to fight with you, Maedhros."

Maedhros just snorted, brushing the sand from his leather training gear. A bit of it had gotten in his red hair but it didn't take long for him to clear it. "And have you beaten Fingon yet, Elladan?"

Fingon just snickered. Míril supposed there wasn't much more needed to be said about their nearly weekly archery competitions they'd been having for two years. Fingon still seemed able to improve his aim, but Elladan got closer to him by the day.

"Not yet," Elladan said. "But it is only a matter of time. Speaking of my brother, though, is he not due back from Taniquetil today?"

Míril grinned. "Indeed he is." She put her hands through Auriel's fur as the hound returned from sniffing around the yard outside the house Maedhros and Maglor now lived in quietly along the shores of Tirion. "It'll be good to have him back."

"And Finrod, too. Though I don't suppose you're nearly as excited about that," Fingon teased.

Míril didn't let his comment bother her. He was right. She enjoyed Finrod's company, but Elrohir had been gone nearly three weeks, conversing with the leaders of the elven houses in Taniquetil in matters that didn't interest her much at all. Eönwë had been far afield in the past year, and she and the other members of the Eagle Guard had been given instructions to train on their own.

Where he'd gone, only rumors told. Some said he was at the north of north, at the wastes near where the Helcaraxë once connected the Blessed Realm to the lands of Beleriand. Others said to the south, where not even the elves often traveled. A few small voices said he'd been tasked with traveling to Middle Earth itself.

Míril didn't believe the last one at all. She, more than most if she had to guess, often received news of the lands of Middle Earth. Between her kinship to the royal houses of the Noldor and Elrohir's affinity for politics among the elite, she knew that most of the Reunited Kingdom remained at peace. There hadn't been a major battle in the Reunited Kingdom or Rohan since the Battle of Armor that had left her to abandon Middle Earth.

Still, the fact remained that Eönwë was conspicuously absent. Maedhros had taken it upon himself to train her in the years following his release from Mandos, and she found solace in their weekly duels. She liked him immensely, as much as his brother.

Hoofbeats on the packed snow and dirt made all four elves turn towards the road. The sounds of the sea could not drown out the haste the rider was making. Maglor soon came into view, hopping off his grey steed with grace. His face looked grim as he threw back his hood.

"Good, you're all here." He opened the gate and joined them inside. "Do you have your horses?"

"Slow down," Maedhros ordered. He slid both his blades into their sheathes as he moved towards his brother. "What is going on?"

"Mandos. He needs to see us," Maglor said. "I don't know more. I was with Míriel when Lady Vairë came to us, troubled. She instructed me to ride here in all haste. I've been on the road for several days."

Míril frowned. "Have you no idea what's wrong?"

Maglor shook his head. "None." He glanced around. "Where is Elrohir?"

"Still not returned from Taniquetil," Elladan said.

"Then he must find his own path to Mandos. We need to leave as soon as can be arranged." Maglor held up his hand as Míril went to speak. "I don't know anything else, Míril."

"Surely you must know something," Maedhros protested. "Your face says more than your words, brother. Something scared you."

They all fell quiet. Against the crying of gulls and crashing waves, no words were spoken. Míril agreed with Maedhros; Maglor looked spooked. He had been grim in all the time she'd known him, but not scared. Here he looked scared.

Finally, Maglor sighed, his warm breath forming a cloud in the chilly air. "I know only this: it has been many years, ages, since I saw fear in the face of one of the Valar. But I saw it in Vairë's. So I suggest we heed her words, and answer the summons of Mandos." He wasted no time in jumping into his horse. "I must ride on to Tol Eressëa. Elrond, Glorfindel, and Galadriel have been summoned as well."

With two quick commands in Quenya, his horse took off. He left behind a silent group. Each stood alone with his or her thoughts. As wind blew new, icy flakes into her face, Míril flinched. Her right hand sat on the hilt of Aramacil, but when she noticed, she let it go as if it burned her skin.

"Come, we should do as he said," Maedhros said. His words rang out loud in the emptiness that now felt oppressive around them. "We can buy provisions in Tirion."

Míril looked at Elladan. He met her gaze instantly, and she knew he felt the same uncertainty as her. She wished Elrohir was there. She prayed he would receive summons from somewhere, and make haste to Mandos. What could cause fear in the Valar? She didn't even want to think of it.

"Don't dwell on these tidings," Fingon urged as they all mounted their horses. "There is no use worrying when we cannot get answers for several days."

But Míril feared less for herself, and more for her children. What if Eönwë had indeed been sent to Middle Earth, or to some far land, because of a threat the Valar feared? She had trusted her children to Aragorn. Míril knew he would not fail her willingly, but men could be killed. A pit formed in her stomach as they hurried down the cobbled street towards the road to Tirion. She would never forgive herself if the Reunited Kingdom fell while she feasted in Valinor.