Aubspfel nisi 100 retire nursing grudges to kill not heal
If only had felt [those] women one hundred:
retire nursing grudges to kill not heal…
Ausir Thingol’s son called by your tales Dior, heir of Beren and Luthien, did come to Madhros proposing delay strategic, awaiting some host of his father’s gathering, spirits lost and yet mighty in all of Arda, above and below; dissenting this request, as in a manner haughty to belie against his misgivings of the oath, and its taking hold strong on his brothers – even then he knew only small part of their vile deeds, in lands east (of which we’ve already made mention) and in the crafting of whoredom of spider, unbeknownst in the service secret of Melkor, teacher of Maeglin all his unnatural designs; and so caught as between anvil and about to strike hammer blow, Madhros demanded his desire, to hold and thereafter keep the gem by his father wrought; and Dior unrelenting his claim, saying in reply haughty to measure up, that only by wicked oath’s claim did he make demand, of that work’s fruit he nor they had any part, save of springing of the loins of one who wrought, and also lost, despite avarice to capture all the realms into his little hands, cunning.
And in this reply he showed forth his own doubts of that thing’s wearing, by him or by Nimloth his espoused; and also he hoped to slow thus, and to make settlement of what both had inherited, by no will of their own, and yet the thing fallen upon the heir would unmake one or the other, opposed; and had he known, a third way may have they contrived, to send the gems as Thingol intended, to Turgon in gift of his daughter’s marriage to the man, Tuor; and by so sending, put the gem beyond the reach of all the sons’ oaths, until all shall come together in unity, and break the leaguer Melkor was then, as for many centuries, laying about them; So dwarf, elda, atani, maia- kind of holy order rest at one in a thing by all wrought, and rightly not claimed to possess; but in giving, gain what light those baubles amassed;
None knew then this aim of Grey King of Doriath, and so sudden was his fea reft of hroa, for a long while few saw or spoke with him, save those recently deceased, returned; and to Men, these two came not ever, knowing in them all the griefs now inherited, in flesh of bodies, and the loss of realms fantastic, glorious, never-ending so long as Arda stayed; Aging and dying, forgetting, leaving the house and its children to whatsoever betide, men or nature;
And so also was Beren prohibited from that Ring set by Madhros about Melkor, which’s undoing was by that same Man[kind]; so aloof also he remained, from Dairon returned in secret from Gondolin; and no welcome did Ausir extend, to him leaving his father among the Nauglamir’s whelps, unattended as a king ought;
And shooing him, Pest away! Ausir bent down, and cursed Dorian, to come never to his own father’s house again,
For broken it was bodily, and in spirit
Wandered; Not though he hold again
In clasp immanent and ponderous,
His own sword, not til in his palm rested
Again this gem, or one like unto it, kin;
More so than thou, not-kin, neither uncle,
Half; but stranger always. Begone, fly!
Alone sent Dairon away his wrath, in misunderstanding this child upbraided him, one who sat on those shores, and with Vanya-highest, gathered fish to eat, and water to consume; And what Dairon hoped to receive, in arriving thereto, none may guess; aid none would now send, one to another, Lordly or low; cold hearts turned; where before waxed the wine of brothership, friendly and trusty, loyal beyond question of doubt.
Halt Beggar, commanded the Ausir Artanor’s chief, even as he departed those halls once his long home:
By this one you may receive a single gift in parting forever; go, show this beggar charity, that none may rightfully say Ausir reigns less loving than Thingol, and even to his abandoners, showeth he grace.
So Dairon wept, in misery and shame, knowing not whether to take of the treasures, precious works, or that cast aside; yet flouting as ever both the commands and the expectations of his own thought, he slipped on his wrist, that falconer’s catch, saying,
This I do in thought of honored Return, to these halls, or elsewhere thy kin reigneth, to give in recompense of gift timely to beggardly me, whatsoever goodly miserlies I have retained;
And while thus beguiling Ausir and his servant Bogrin, angering with hubris, yet confounding their understanding in wordy effigies, Dairon also took to himself, within his torn cloak, that sword and its few splintered shards, unforged, known to him as pair with Eol’s Anguirel, Anglachel; though he heard not yet the tale of its breaking, and by whom was it trusted, and to whose spurtings guts unraveling its delights arose;
Heirloom of his house, broken if it be, and he alone to carry, that sword should be, he told himself; departing a thief of his own house’s goods; and of this, who knows what may befall, and here land? Clatchet, ornamental, serving to ensnare a free thing, but only to service of good masters, never bound by oath; Having failed now the last hope to broker some settlement for peace between Feanor’s House, and his own (by decree, if only), Dairon returned to that hidden hall near unto the spiders afestering, kept by him aforetime, secret safe, solid and impervious to invasion without; yet also cold and dark it had become, even as the light and green-sward of Doriath withered, and its renewal under Dior looked not Northward, fearing what all beheld; and alone he arrived, unburdened of success, he showed the catch to Irimë, who laughing, spun it about her palm:
—This, your heirloom in all that treasury!
—Better this than the gem, my love, he said, and sat; For he knowing her heart torn, between brother’s (half!) kin, sons noble (mostly), and yet by intractable chain, drug and dragged, pleading against earless nights, for peace, in Dior’s Delay; and her knowing, too, that of all his heirs, to who[m] that gem ought fall, none more suited Thingol’s holding it than Beren, and if he discards, to Dairon alone should it come; and yet could not — Silver Hand would’ve seated it more beauteously, though Nauglamir was ancient wrought, some say of Aulë in gift to Durin –
—Has he been here, recently? Or still awaver, to reclaim his gifts, given in earnest; to some seeming ‘spy work,’ of his ‘Devil- craft’?—
—Not so, either one question or the other, my love. —And they?
—They? I cannot see any way now, but by force, retaking.
To those dwarf-masters, Celebrimbor would indeed wander, learning their secret craft, and musing beyond the wars and disputes of gems we now survey, and told elsewhere; Framsillien also thus strayed apart her first kin Gondolindri, and though never not interlocked by lights in her heart with those firing Celebrimbor-Silver-Fist (or Palm, depending on his mood) often she climbed distant, leaping down falling waters, and swimming in their depths, rushing, refreshed, to find him hotly hammering some metal, or grinding gem;
And never into this brief tale do they enter, though elsewhere is told their fate, to be as banners raised before a mighty army-throng, marching (in peace or war, or both) upon a world crumbling behind, for refuge before; evil and good workers being thus driven, one confused and the other often confounded;
And telling those brothers of the contempt of Dior for his own kin, and of their own efforts at peaceful resolution – thus to make their inevitable course the lighter to yoke themselves to, and easier to travel – hoping in the end for some slip of fate, to bring that gem to them, without elda-slaying elda; but some of those brothers more eagerly hoped to slay Dior and all his house (Dairon included) and they led first into Doriath’s Caverns, upward treading from hot tunnelings, about Menegroth, and Dior’s chambers; and here too were housed – some say in misunderstanding love’s keeping and distress at separation, with ashielding most cowardly – the new queen, reluctant, and her children, in your tales called Elwing, Ellurin, and Ellured;
Coming upon their slumber, having dispatched what guard Dior’s men kept there, in hubris, two of the brothers bound the children, and another to Nimloth’s quarters crept, blackest, basest; Mighty in strength and cunning stealth always, those sons were renown, and yet more so came this night some power-will, to conclude their oaths, and to send back forever the haunting Dark, voices laughing;
So they did here ugly and evil deeds; And Celegorm upon throne, was presented ravished Nimloth, where before others had been wed; and she thrust upon Celegorm’s knees, was made to bow, in obescience; then to her was presented, three children divine, bound as one, and Caranthir held them out, offering now to barter, as in old times, children for gems; the thought striking his heart, so too had he been, swindled all his brothers, and in this trade he hoped to resolve Dior’s heart, and to leave, unharmed, house and child, with that gem despised, but when seen upon Dior’s breast, also loved; and too he knew, Dior would not with it part, deceiving himself that only by the gem’s power – over will, and strength enlarged – could he hope to win back his own house, and not empty.
Now down the halls of stone came trilling, a minstrel’s harp, out of tune, and badly plucked, as if mis-strung; between the many of Feanor’s sons (having brought others promised realms and baubles, and even honors in winning that gem) and the few left to Dior, Ausir no longer, waded that minstrel, jaunty, as a jester, out of place;
Elsewhere Irimë crept, and signaling to those children bound, showed them where to hide – when unbound – Caranthir did notice her in the shadows afar off, yet misled his mind, and even while stealthily cutting ropes (all save one strand) that wrapped them about; and being thus distracted by Dorian’s antics, the Fool Wandering, none other saw Caranthir’s deed; yet too late was it done, for Dairon knew here these halls, and of its secret passages, and traps all about; and Madhros and Maglor with some others stood by, dismayed at their brothers; and Maglor thus strode upon Dairon, mocking his song; hoping by this to ring the chambers in laughter, than clash of arms, and murderous slaughter; but it was not so; for Dairon kicked a hidden lever, and from under Maglor as he walked, the floor-tile of stone swung away, opening, and he tumbled down away; Thus Nimloth leaped and yet stumbled, falling down those steps before that throne, where followed Celegorm aleaping to strike down whosoever stood between gem and oath; and Curufin swung about to slay those children; when Dior rushed, and stabbing Curufin, and he him, both fell, and died, and others there fought in battle, as the halls ran slick, and slippery in guts unleashed; shining aloud above all the darkness and red pouring, was the gem, yet upon his brow who was dead; and turning by a throw, Maglor [Madhros?] against a column, Dairon threw another swinging gate hidden above, and many stones fell, even as Celegorm came upon him, having trod upon Nimloth; so both died in those falling stones, and then also a rushing torrent ran down upon the halls, and all were washed, or drowned, or carried to nether parts long wasting in darkness;
So was Dior’s corpse borne abrunt against Nimloth, and she awakening, held to him, in the black, seeing only as in vision (it seemed) the gem upon his brow; and so she was borne upon blood and water, rock achurning, clinging to corpse king, out therefrom, and into safer darkness waiting; where also was lofted the Silmaril, though she would not take it; to that task’s carrying forth from a realm betrayed, in time came Elwing, Nimlothiel, she being severed from her brothers in the wreck, and not knowing their instructions given of Irimë; the boys it was said were either in those halls drowned, or being taken by Amrod and his cronies, were left to starve in the forest, waifs awaiting wolves; and though tales are much at variance in many details – even in the naming of dead, killers, and by whom killed – it was in wisdom put forth, confusion; for Irimë housed those boys afar off, and sent them to Celebrimbor, as dwarf-slaves in payment of some debt; and they having hidden names, kept secret their own; and learned they to hammer, and to draw water, bucket by bucket.
Irimë also bereaved, climbed about with Framsillien, until departing west, before the Gods broke up those hills, and drowned the lands, but raised up the deeps, under falls hidden;
Those brothers who remained, sought for her, finding not; Caranthir too perished in that battle, fallen before his kin, defending the boys and their sister, as they in horror gaped, and would not run; he holding the doorway against pursuit, kept back those “warriors,” until trampled down, and stabbed many times, drawing to himself the anger of betrayal kin by kin, even while Irimë gathered the boys, and fled into the twilight, dragging and toting on shoulders, one then the other, fleeing under black-canopy running by, while the sky above raised red from the starless night, chill; but grey more overtook the reddening, and grief overcome Thingol, as he watched the calamity unfold; and tracked as if haunting wraith – so driving Irimë near to madness in flight – those lone heirs of a house divine, by brothers betrayed.