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Chapter Four: i Cilme
The time after returning from Valmar was dark and dreary for the Eldar and time seemed to stand still in the gloom that surrounded the great city. Much similar was the mood of many Eldar, including that of Glorfindel and Turgon as they contemplated the actions that the Valar might take in revenge for the destruction of the Two Trees. Many rumors had spread about the city concerning the future and what may or may not happen. The city was becoming restless and many knew something large and unnerving was on the eve of happening.
The very night that the first steps toward these events occurred, Idril and Elrilya were in the middle of needlework in one of the parlors of the many halls of Tirion when Aredhel suddenly burst into the room.
"Come quick to the main courtyard," she urged the two of them. "Fëanor has returned and is calling to the entire city to hear what he has to say."
Placing their projects upon the tables, the two elf maidens hurried after Aredhel to one of the higher walls of the main hall where they could have a good view of what was happening. As they came outside, the air was abuzz with conversations as a fast gathering crowd of mostly Noldor elves. Torchlight blazed from several handheld sticks and wall mounts, setting the courtyard ablaze with bright, strong light. Fëanor stood high amidst the crowd on the raised wall that surrounded the White Tree. The three maidens found an open spot along the wall that overlooked the scene among many others of the noble household. Though, Glorfindel, Turgon, and the brothers of the three princes were nowhere to be seen in the sea of mostly sable haired heads dotted with a few golden tresses.
"What is it do you think he wants?" Idril asked her aunt.
"I do not know," Aredhel conceded. "It is strange he returns here now when his banishment has not yet been relinquished."
"My fellow Noldor! And Vanyar friends! Listen to my words!" Fëanor called out suddenly from below. "A great evil has befallen us, as you all well know. Our hearts are heavy with grief because something dear to our hearts and souls was stolen from us! I know how all of you suffer since I feel the loss inside me too. That a part of us is missing."
Fëanor then went on talking about the death of the Two Trees, the theft of the Silmarils, and the slaying of Finwë. He spoke harshly with anger in his voice rising up above the crowd.
Elrilya crept closer to Idril as she felt a shiver run through her spine while she watched Idril's great-uncle speak. She could sense that his tone hid something he would bring out at the right moment. She did not know what it could be but as she glanced at Idril, she could see her friend was also in deep thought concerning the speech. The other Eldar about them appeared to be entranced by his words, nodding in a hypnotic fashion. Mostly it was the Noldor who were being drawn in, Elrilya noted, and most of the Vanyar present seemed nervous and anxious as Fëanor continued on.
"I call upon all of you," he said. "We must come together and unite against this evil might. The wicked deeds of Morgoth have stirred and awakened things within us that have long slumbered. We must strike back! And take back what is ours!"
Many Noldor raised their fists and shouted in agreement with Fëanor within and all around the courtyard. It only seemed to heave Fëanor's courage and ego ever higher.
"While the Valar sit silently and do nothing, we wander like frightened children waiting for their word," he went on, then he let out a roar of rage that he had pent up. "We are stronger than that! Are we not powerful enough to bring down Morgoth and make him pay for his transgressions against us? I say we are! Who among us can disagree? And call us weak to our faces? My people! We can destroy Morgoth and his vile servants. In the place of our beloved king, my father, I shall lead you as your new king!"
Now a strong majority of Noldor shouted and argued in fervor about Fëanor. Many disliked his declaration to call himself the new king of the Noldor. Others supported his claim while the rest remained silent with the Vanyar. Fëanor raised his hands high to calm them to a quiet murmur.
"'Why, O people of the Noldor,' he cried, 'why should we longer serve the jealous Valar, who cannot keep us nor even their own realm secure from their Enemy? And though he be now their foe, are not they and he of one kin? Vengeance calls me hence, but even were it otherwise I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kin of my father's slayer and of the thief of my treasure. Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people. And have ye not all lost your King? And what else have ye not lost, cooped here in a narrow land between the mountains and the sea?
'Hence once was light, that the Valar begrudged to Middle-Earth, but now dark levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the thankless sea? Or shall we return to our home? In Cuiviénen sweet ran the waters under unclouded stars, and wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still and await us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city!'**
"They mean to belittle us and hold us back from the glory we are capable of!" Fëanor cried out heatedly. "They wish to let their true beloved creations rule the Hither Lands!"
At this pronouncement, there was a great muttering that began spreading through the crowd of Eldar.
"What does he mean by 'true beloved creations'?" Elrilya asked Idril.
The golden-haired maiden seemed as confused as she was and shook her head in confusion. They both looked to Aredhel who had remained awfully quiet the past half hour and who now appeared to have become anxious from the most recent words of Fëanor.
"Who is he speaking of?" Idril questioned her aunt.
Aredhel's blue eyes flickered to their faces with some apprehension.
"He is speaking of the Aftercomers," she said. "A people who appeared in the Hither Lands after the Great Journey. I am not surprised you do not know of them, not many do. They are short-lived but have spread much through the lands in their time."
At this point, Fëanor garnered the attention of his crowd once more. He called upon them all to join him in a journey. A journey back to the Hither Lands he planned to take with a great force to take back the Silmarils from Morgoth. He said to travel light but to bring their weapons so that they may fight and outlast the greatest of the Valar. Then they would rule Arda as the mightiest race.
"My people, by the name of Ilúvatar, I swear before you this day that I shall not let the Silmarils lay in the possession of one not worthy and full of such evil. I call upon Manwë and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil as witnesses to my oath! I will continue until the end of time to avenge my father and retrieve the Silmarils, or be it I come to the Everlasting Dark if I do not!"
At these words leapt Fëanor's sons to his side upon the wall above the crowd. They cried that they too would take the same oath as their father and would never rest until the Silmarils were returned to their family.
"These are terrible words to be spoken," Aredhel said as all eight sons took their turn to speak the oath. Her voice quivered as she spoke. "No one should speak such a promise."
Elrilya and Idril solemnly nodded in response to Aredhel's words then turned their attention back to the courtyard when they heard a new voice. There stood Fingolfin, Turgon, and Finrod below Fëanor and his sons.
"Fëanor, your declarations are full of blasphemy!" Fingolfin cried. "Surely the Valar will not forgive you or any of us if you go through with this madness!"
"Why do you not stand by me, brother?" Fëanor cried, his eyes flashing angrily. "Why don't you want to join me in avenging our father together?"
"This is a dangerous task you call upon all of us for!" Turgon responded. "It would not be as easy as you say."
"You sound like you have lost your mind," Finrod spoke up against his uncle. "This is not the way to undo what has been done upon us all."
"And what would you know of our father's intentions?" cried Amras, one of Fëanor's sons. "You cared not for our grandsire, cousins! Nor did you, uncle! You attempted to turn our grandsire against our father years ago! A fool's errand and a coward too!"
Angry cries broke out as Finrod, Turgon and Fingolfin rushed forth at the cruel words. The crowd grew loud with shouts as those who were silent finally spoke up. Two of Fëanor's sons, Curufin and Caranthir, drew their swords on Fingolfin, Finrod, and Turgon as the arguing escalated.
"Atar! No!"
The shrill cry of Idril's screams from above the courtyard cut through the air as panic nearly seized the Eldar present. If not for the sudden appearance of a moderator, blood would have been shed upon the white stones surrounding the White Tree.
"Halt! Stop this turmoil now!" cried Glorfindel as he threw himself in front of Fingolfin and Turgon so that Curufin and Caranthir could not reach them. "The offenses between Fingolfin and Fëanor have been resolved. There is no reason to bring it forth again! Do not shed blood here or pull your weapons upon your kin!"
Agreeing with Glorfindel's words, Curufin and Caranthir placed their swords back in their sheaths. When all had calmed and the mob stilled, Glorfindel stepped aside so that they could continue to debate the issue but he kept a watchful eye from beside Turgon on those that had threatened to cause trouble.
Finarfin then came forth, his other children standing behind him. Finrod came to Finarfin's side to support his father.
"What you say may be true, my brother," he said to Fëanor. "But we should not make decisions like these in such haste. We must take time to prepare for this great journey into the unknown. We must think it over before making a definitive pronouncement to go."
"What have we to wait for?" Fëanor answered loudly. "The Valar to give us permission? We are not their slaves who must ask when and where we can go! I say we go immediately! We shall set out soonest, before tomorrow's noon."
"It is not wise to set out yet!" Finarfin tried to call again to his brother but it was of no use, Fëanor's mind was made up.
"Go to your families and your kin! Call them to join us back to the Hither Lands!" called out Fëanor. "For tomorrow we leave! Pack light, my friends, for we have a long way to go and need not carry heavy burdens. We shall find new treasures for us all when we arrive!"
The crowds began to disperse and the courtyard hummed loudly with the discussions of the crowd. Elrilya, Idril, and Aredhel noticed that Turgon, Glorfindel, and Fingolfin were making their way inside the noble halls and so the three women followed suit so they could discuss more with them.
As soon as they met up with their friends and family, Elenwë was already had Turgon in a strong embrace. She appeared to be upset that her husband had come close to being slain. Turgon was talking to her soothingly in a hushed tone in her ear as he held her to him. Leaning against the far wall of the parlor room, Glorfindel seemed to be in deep thought. Fingolfin was nowhere to be seen.
Idril rushed forth and joined her two parents together in their embrace. Aredhel came close to her brother and his family, placing a hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there and glad that he was safe. Elrilya let them be but made her way to the lone figure against the wall.
"That was brave of you to stand up to Fëanor's sons like you did," she said as she came close.
"Turgon is my closest friend of my family kin," Glorfindel said, his eyes still darkened deep from thought. "I would not see his blood or anyone else's be shed upon this shore's hallow ground."
He seemed to go back into thought for a moment after he finished speaking. Elrilya could feel the turbulent emotions running through his mind.
"Do you wish to go?" she asked.
He looked up to her in small surprise but sobered quickly.
"It is an interesting prospect, to say the least," he conceded. "But I believe it is for the wrong reasons. Fëanor's chosen path is extremely uncertain. It will be bitter and rough for us all if we go on this journey."
"What if Turgon goes?" she asked, she wanted to know especially since Glorfindel was so close to him.
Glorfindel took a deep breath as he considered it for a moment.
"That is my dilemma," he finally said after a moment. "It has been on my mind since Fëanor had called upon us all, including his kin. Our loyalty is strong between each other so I will stand by whatever decision he makes and I will follow."
She nodded, her own thoughts starting to creep further into her consciousness about the call to leave Aman.
"Elrilya," Glorfindel said. "Perhaps it should be a good idea for you to see what your family wishes to do."
"You're right," she replied. "Have a good night, and please let Idril know."
"Of course," Glorfindel said as they both eyed the family still hugging each other tightly.
*
"Elrilya, Idril is here to see you," Elrilya's mother, KalmÃrë, said as she peeked her head into her daughter's room.
The golden-haired maiden stepped past KalmÃrë into Elrilya's room where she sat upon her bed with multiple items strewn about. Idril came and sat by her side upon the bed.
"How are things?" Elrilya asked her friend once they were alone.
"My family has decided to leave Aman," Idril said. "My grandsire gave in after Fingon came to him and urged him to join the journey. Father said he would follow him, as did our kin, Finrod."
"My family has also chosen to leave," Elrilya said. "They were quite moved by Fëanor's speech, which does worry me some." She paused but then her eyes lit up. "But at least I will have you with me and it will not be so lonely."
"Yes, it will be more pleasant with company like yours," Idril said in a teasing tone. "I do not know if I could go on the journey without you. I might have had Glorfindel kidnap you in the night if you were not to come."
"That certainly would have been a sight," Elrilya laughed. "Though, I think I would have come or stayed with you depending on your decision."
"Oh!" Idril said with wide eyes as if she just remembered something important. "Many Noldor came to the halls after you left and spoke with my father and grandsire. They said they will go on the journey but will follow my grandsire as king, not Fëanor!"
"I hope he does not find out, he might not like the sound of that," Elrilya said cautiously. "After his speech tonight, I fear he may be dangerous to others who stand in his way."
"I hope you are wrong, but I have doubts," Idril said seriously. "Though, I must go now, Amil needs help preparing and packing."
"Yes, I must finish as well," said Elrilya as she glanced around at the things she had pulled out in consideration. "So I shall see you early tomorrow morning?"
"We will be meeting in the courtyard by the White Tree before setting out to the gates," Idril said. "We shall see you then."
**Feanor's excerpts used from The Silmarillion text by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Glossary
i Cilme: the choice
Atar: father
Amil: mother
Chapter Four: i Cilme
The time after returning from Valmar was dark and dreary for the Eldar and time seemed to stand still in the gloom that surrounded the great city. Much similar was the mood of many Eldar, including that of Glorfindel and Turgon as they contemplated the actions that the Valar might take in revenge for the destruction of the Two Trees. Many rumors had spread about the city concerning the future and what may or may not happen. The city was becoming restless and many knew something large and unnerving was on the eve of happening.
The very night that the first steps toward these events occurred, Idril and Elrilya were in the middle of needlework in one of the parlors of the many halls of Tirion when Aredhel suddenly burst into the room.
"Come quick to the main courtyard," she urged the two of them. "Fëanor has returned and is calling to the entire city to hear what he has to say."
Placing their projects upon the tables, the two elf maidens hurried after Aredhel to one of the higher walls of the main hall where they could have a good view of what was happening. As they came outside, the air was abuzz with conversations as a fast gathering crowd of mostly Noldor elves. Torchlight blazed from several handheld sticks and wall mounts, setting the courtyard ablaze with bright, strong light. Fëanor stood high amidst the crowd on the raised wall that surrounded the White Tree. The three maidens found an open spot along the wall that overlooked the scene among many others of the noble household. Though, Glorfindel, Turgon, and the brothers of the three princes were nowhere to be seen in the sea of mostly sable haired heads dotted with a few golden tresses.
"What is it do you think he wants?" Idril asked her aunt.
"I do not know," Aredhel conceded. "It is strange he returns here now when his banishment has not yet been relinquished."
"My fellow Noldor! And Vanyar friends! Listen to my words!" Fëanor called out suddenly from below. "A great evil has befallen us, as you all well know. Our hearts are heavy with grief because something dear to our hearts and souls was stolen from us! I know how all of you suffer since I feel the loss inside me too. That a part of us is missing."
Fëanor then went on talking about the death of the Two Trees, the theft of the Silmarils, and the slaying of Finwë. He spoke harshly with anger in his voice rising up above the crowd.
Elrilya crept closer to Idril as she felt a shiver run through her spine while she watched Idril's great-uncle speak. She could sense that his tone hid something he would bring out at the right moment. She did not know what it could be but as she glanced at Idril, she could see her friend was also in deep thought concerning the speech. The other Eldar about them appeared to be entranced by his words, nodding in a hypnotic fashion. Mostly it was the Noldor who were being drawn in, Elrilya noted, and most of the Vanyar present seemed nervous and anxious as Fëanor continued on.
"I call upon all of you," he said. "We must come together and unite against this evil might. The wicked deeds of Morgoth have stirred and awakened things within us that have long slumbered. We must strike back! And take back what is ours!"
Many Noldor raised their fists and shouted in agreement with Fëanor within and all around the courtyard. It only seemed to heave Fëanor's courage and ego ever higher.
"While the Valar sit silently and do nothing, we wander like frightened children waiting for their word," he went on, then he let out a roar of rage that he had pent up. "We are stronger than that! Are we not powerful enough to bring down Morgoth and make him pay for his transgressions against us? I say we are! Who among us can disagree? And call us weak to our faces? My people! We can destroy Morgoth and his vile servants. In the place of our beloved king, my father, I shall lead you as your new king!"
Now a strong majority of Noldor shouted and argued in fervor about Fëanor. Many disliked his declaration to call himself the new king of the Noldor. Others supported his claim while the rest remained silent with the Vanyar. Fëanor raised his hands high to calm them to a quiet murmur.
"'Why, O people of the Noldor,' he cried, 'why should we longer serve the jealous Valar, who cannot keep us nor even their own realm secure from their Enemy? And though he be now their foe, are not they and he of one kin? Vengeance calls me hence, but even were it otherwise I would not dwell longer in the same land with the kin of my father's slayer and of the thief of my treasure. Yet I am not the only valiant in this valiant people. And have ye not all lost your King? And what else have ye not lost, cooped here in a narrow land between the mountains and the sea?
'Hence once was light, that the Valar begrudged to Middle-Earth, but now dark levels all. Shall we mourn here deedless for ever, a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the thankless sea? Or shall we return to our home? In Cuiviénen sweet ran the waters under unclouded stars, and wide lands lay about, where a free people might walk. There they lie still and await us who in our folly forsook them. Come away! Let the cowards keep this city!'**
"They mean to belittle us and hold us back from the glory we are capable of!" Fëanor cried out heatedly. "They wish to let their true beloved creations rule the Hither Lands!"
At this pronouncement, there was a great muttering that began spreading through the crowd of Eldar.
"What does he mean by 'true beloved creations'?" Elrilya asked Idril.
The golden-haired maiden seemed as confused as she was and shook her head in confusion. They both looked to Aredhel who had remained awfully quiet the past half hour and who now appeared to have become anxious from the most recent words of Fëanor.
"Who is he speaking of?" Idril questioned her aunt.
Aredhel's blue eyes flickered to their faces with some apprehension.
"He is speaking of the Aftercomers," she said. "A people who appeared in the Hither Lands after the Great Journey. I am not surprised you do not know of them, not many do. They are short-lived but have spread much through the lands in their time."
At this point, Fëanor garnered the attention of his crowd once more. He called upon them all to join him in a journey. A journey back to the Hither Lands he planned to take with a great force to take back the Silmarils from Morgoth. He said to travel light but to bring their weapons so that they may fight and outlast the greatest of the Valar. Then they would rule Arda as the mightiest race.
"My people, by the name of Ilúvatar, I swear before you this day that I shall not let the Silmarils lay in the possession of one not worthy and full of such evil. I call upon Manwë and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil as witnesses to my oath! I will continue until the end of time to avenge my father and retrieve the Silmarils, or be it I come to the Everlasting Dark if I do not!"
At these words leapt Fëanor's sons to his side upon the wall above the crowd. They cried that they too would take the same oath as their father and would never rest until the Silmarils were returned to their family.
"These are terrible words to be spoken," Aredhel said as all eight sons took their turn to speak the oath. Her voice quivered as she spoke. "No one should speak such a promise."
Elrilya and Idril solemnly nodded in response to Aredhel's words then turned their attention back to the courtyard when they heard a new voice. There stood Fingolfin, Turgon, and Finrod below Fëanor and his sons.
"Fëanor, your declarations are full of blasphemy!" Fingolfin cried. "Surely the Valar will not forgive you or any of us if you go through with this madness!"
"Why do you not stand by me, brother?" Fëanor cried, his eyes flashing angrily. "Why don't you want to join me in avenging our father together?"
"This is a dangerous task you call upon all of us for!" Turgon responded. "It would not be as easy as you say."
"You sound like you have lost your mind," Finrod spoke up against his uncle. "This is not the way to undo what has been done upon us all."
"And what would you know of our father's intentions?" cried Amras, one of Fëanor's sons. "You cared not for our grandsire, cousins! Nor did you, uncle! You attempted to turn our grandsire against our father years ago! A fool's errand and a coward too!"
Angry cries broke out as Finrod, Turgon and Fingolfin rushed forth at the cruel words. The crowd grew loud with shouts as those who were silent finally spoke up. Two of Fëanor's sons, Curufin and Caranthir, drew their swords on Fingolfin, Finrod, and Turgon as the arguing escalated.
"Atar! No!"
The shrill cry of Idril's screams from above the courtyard cut through the air as panic nearly seized the Eldar present. If not for the sudden appearance of a moderator, blood would have been shed upon the white stones surrounding the White Tree.
"Halt! Stop this turmoil now!" cried Glorfindel as he threw himself in front of Fingolfin and Turgon so that Curufin and Caranthir could not reach them. "The offenses between Fingolfin and Fëanor have been resolved. There is no reason to bring it forth again! Do not shed blood here or pull your weapons upon your kin!"
Agreeing with Glorfindel's words, Curufin and Caranthir placed their swords back in their sheaths. When all had calmed and the mob stilled, Glorfindel stepped aside so that they could continue to debate the issue but he kept a watchful eye from beside Turgon on those that had threatened to cause trouble.
Finarfin then came forth, his other children standing behind him. Finrod came to Finarfin's side to support his father.
"What you say may be true, my brother," he said to Fëanor. "But we should not make decisions like these in such haste. We must take time to prepare for this great journey into the unknown. We must think it over before making a definitive pronouncement to go."
"What have we to wait for?" Fëanor answered loudly. "The Valar to give us permission? We are not their slaves who must ask when and where we can go! I say we go immediately! We shall set out soonest, before tomorrow's noon."
"It is not wise to set out yet!" Finarfin tried to call again to his brother but it was of no use, Fëanor's mind was made up.
"Go to your families and your kin! Call them to join us back to the Hither Lands!" called out Fëanor. "For tomorrow we leave! Pack light, my friends, for we have a long way to go and need not carry heavy burdens. We shall find new treasures for us all when we arrive!"
The crowds began to disperse and the courtyard hummed loudly with the discussions of the crowd. Elrilya, Idril, and Aredhel noticed that Turgon, Glorfindel, and Fingolfin were making their way inside the noble halls and so the three women followed suit so they could discuss more with them.
As soon as they met up with their friends and family, Elenwë was already had Turgon in a strong embrace. She appeared to be upset that her husband had come close to being slain. Turgon was talking to her soothingly in a hushed tone in her ear as he held her to him. Leaning against the far wall of the parlor room, Glorfindel seemed to be in deep thought. Fingolfin was nowhere to be seen.
Idril rushed forth and joined her two parents together in their embrace. Aredhel came close to her brother and his family, placing a hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there and glad that he was safe. Elrilya let them be but made her way to the lone figure against the wall.
"That was brave of you to stand up to Fëanor's sons like you did," she said as she came close.
"Turgon is my closest friend of my family kin," Glorfindel said, his eyes still darkened deep from thought. "I would not see his blood or anyone else's be shed upon this shore's hallow ground."
He seemed to go back into thought for a moment after he finished speaking. Elrilya could feel the turbulent emotions running through his mind.
"Do you wish to go?" she asked.
He looked up to her in small surprise but sobered quickly.
"It is an interesting prospect, to say the least," he conceded. "But I believe it is for the wrong reasons. Fëanor's chosen path is extremely uncertain. It will be bitter and rough for us all if we go on this journey."
"What if Turgon goes?" she asked, she wanted to know especially since Glorfindel was so close to him.
Glorfindel took a deep breath as he considered it for a moment.
"That is my dilemma," he finally said after a moment. "It has been on my mind since Fëanor had called upon us all, including his kin. Our loyalty is strong between each other so I will stand by whatever decision he makes and I will follow."
She nodded, her own thoughts starting to creep further into her consciousness about the call to leave Aman.
"Elrilya," Glorfindel said. "Perhaps it should be a good idea for you to see what your family wishes to do."
"You're right," she replied. "Have a good night, and please let Idril know."
"Of course," Glorfindel said as they both eyed the family still hugging each other tightly.
*
"Elrilya, Idril is here to see you," Elrilya's mother, KalmÃrë, said as she peeked her head into her daughter's room.
The golden-haired maiden stepped past KalmÃrë into Elrilya's room where she sat upon her bed with multiple items strewn about. Idril came and sat by her side upon the bed.
"How are things?" Elrilya asked her friend once they were alone.
"My family has decided to leave Aman," Idril said. "My grandsire gave in after Fingon came to him and urged him to join the journey. Father said he would follow him, as did our kin, Finrod."
"My family has also chosen to leave," Elrilya said. "They were quite moved by Fëanor's speech, which does worry me some." She paused but then her eyes lit up. "But at least I will have you with me and it will not be so lonely."
"Yes, it will be more pleasant with company like yours," Idril said in a teasing tone. "I do not know if I could go on the journey without you. I might have had Glorfindel kidnap you in the night if you were not to come."
"That certainly would have been a sight," Elrilya laughed. "Though, I think I would have come or stayed with you depending on your decision."
"Oh!" Idril said with wide eyes as if she just remembered something important. "Many Noldor came to the halls after you left and spoke with my father and grandsire. They said they will go on the journey but will follow my grandsire as king, not Fëanor!"
"I hope he does not find out, he might not like the sound of that," Elrilya said cautiously. "After his speech tonight, I fear he may be dangerous to others who stand in his way."
"I hope you are wrong, but I have doubts," Idril said seriously. "Though, I must go now, Amil needs help preparing and packing."
"Yes, I must finish as well," said Elrilya as she glanced around at the things she had pulled out in consideration. "So I shall see you early tomorrow morning?"
"We will be meeting in the courtyard by the White Tree before setting out to the gates," Idril said. "We shall see you then."
**Feanor's excerpts used from The Silmarillion text by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Glossary
i Cilme: the choice
Atar: father
Amil: mother
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