The Last Days of Thargelion. Part One: Family.

(Four weeks before the Dragon.)

Despite the passing of Ages, I remember it well. 

My father had just returned from his annual inspection of the hill forts. He was glad to be with us again. He had reported to our Prince. All was fine. In fact there had been remarkably fewer skirmishes than usual. 

“It’s almost as if they are readying for a larger attack,” my father said some of the soldiers were suggesting, and that word had come to them, unofficially, that some of Fingolfin’s captains were unsettled. 

Most had scoffed. A larger attack? Why then we would be ready, and drive them back from whence they came..again. 

“It is winter,” my father explained, as we three walked down the central corridor to the Great Hall. “Even orcs do not come out of their caves easily now. And should there be trouble, I cannot see it getting past the notice of Princes Maedhros and Maglor.”

“Or the High King,” I added, matching pace with my mother. “Though many do not speak of him with great regard - yet he is no fool.” I knew at that time that Estarfin had led a deputation to Barad Eithel. I could not imagine him being sent without good reason. Our Prince had no great love for his uncle, but he understood the way of things. Better to have allies. Better to have trade. 

And yes, yet again I had been foiled in my plans, returning to Thargelion from my time with my cousins in the south, but two days after Estarfin had departed for Fingolfin’s stronghold. 

I had complained. My father laughed gently, but I saw in his eyes there was something he was not telling me.

My mother reminded me to be patient. “You are both little more than children,” she had said. “You have all the time in the world.”

She moved to place a hand on my father’s raised hand, and smiled up at him, as we all progressed through the double oak doors. They were a strong couple, a good example to all. And with my father’s and my own appearance a reminder of the skills of the folk of Mahtan, and that, perhaps, Aule still thought of us? Though not nobility, we were very well regarded. Some folk bowed as we passed. Perhaps in my father they saw hints of his cousin, Prince Maitimo? He never claimed to be in any manner like that prince though. My father was a soldier, but he was also a craftsman. His heart lay In creating things of use and beauty. And he did not have to hold six brothers close to present ever a united front!

There were musicians making preparations before the large arched window. Candles were being lit to brighten the gloom of an early evening, and chandeliers raised in the vaulted roof. To the side, kitchen staff hurried around with selections of tempting cakes and delicacies. The wine bearers stood ready.

We were guided to the dais, second row, and seated in a place with good views. I arranged my white silk gown so that I could sit comfortably for some time. I nodded ‘greetings’ to those seated nearby.

Then all chatter ended, as the doors swung open again, and in walked our Prince and his Lady. 

Everyone rose to their feet.

It was like this every year I remembered. And I was most happy to be a part of it. Life was good in Thargelion.