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... then Findekáno released his friend from his chains and saved him
tagged by @grey-gazania and @last-capy-hupping to share a snippet from my fics.
Here, Aredhel is in Estolad and tells the tale of Maedhros' rescue to the children of the House of Marach. Part of To Find a Home in the Twilight
It is easiest with the children, because children are children, be they of the Noldor, the Sindar, or the Edain. She is amused by how they follow her around everywhere. The littlest ones slap their hands over their giggling mouths as Aredhel moves her ears on purpose. The older ones are fascinated by her skill with weapons, especially Marach’s young sons, Malach and Imlach, who spend afternoons on end watching Aredhel carve wooden arrows for her bow.
But the bravest among them is a girl who is often in their company. There’s something about her observant eyes and neatly braided golden tresses that summons Idril’s image as a child, so when the girl comes to join them, Aredhel wastes no time in pursuing this friendship.
‘My name is Írissë,’ she puts her hand on her heart.
‘I know. Everyone talks about you,’ the girl responds in flawless Sindarin, taking her seat between Aredhel and Marach’s boys. ‘I am Zimrahin. Mama says that if I want to become a Wise-woman, I should learn the stories of the Elves. Will you tell me a story?’
Zimrahin has no qualms about being forward about what she wants. She resembles Idril in this also.
‘It would be my honor, my lady Zimrahin. What kind of story would please you on this fine day?’
Three voices at once answer Aredhel’s question.
‘A story about friends,’ says Zimrahin.
‘An adventure!’ says Malach.
‘A scary story,’ jumps in little Imlach with twinkling eyes.
With the criteria established, Aredhel does not have to think long. She chooses everyone’s favorite.
three houses of the edain ❂ house of hador ❂ headcanon disclaimer
Imlach was the younger son of Marach, and remained in Estolad with his father even when his brother Malach departed with much of their people to seek out a home further in the west. Imlach was deeply devoted to his family and was hurt by Malach’s abandonment, and though he was careful never to speak an ill word against his brother, his son Amlach clearly saw his pain and drew his own conclusions as to its cause. The wife of Imlach was Amar, a hunter who took firm command of the remaining People of Marach when their aging leader began to decline. For this Imlach was grateful, for he had never been inclined to leadership and preferred to devote himself to caring for his father. Amlach, however, was eager to influence the minds of his people. He blamed the enchantments of the elves for stealing away his uncle Malach, and this resentment made it easy for him to connect with Bereg of the House of Bëor, who believed the same had happened to his grandfather Balan. Together, Amlach and Bereg began to organize an unrest among the Men of Beleriand, especially those in Estolad, stirring them up against their overlords. They claimed that their journey westward had been in vain, for the Light of the Gods was beyond an impassable sea, and danger was yet all about them. When the time came for the greatest meeting of Men to decide whether they should stay or go, Amlach went out hunting in the woods with his mother in preparation for a great feast. Yet soon he and Amar were separated, and the woods seemed to become dark and unfriendly, and his way was utterly lost though he had known these trees all his life. Amid the gloom there was a soft voice and a light, which Amlach followed eagerly, believing it was his mother: but soon he saw that it was but a figment, a wisp and a voice, and in frustration he cast aside his bow and wept. Come morning’s light, the wood seemed to have returned to its usual state, and cautiously Amlach made his way out to the open air. There he met his mother with confusion, for Amar claimed he had been with her all night, and had spoken at the feast with great fervor and passion. Indeed, his fell words had laid a shadow of fear upon the assembled Men, who now were eager to go: but Amlach had not been there, and saw now that the Elf-friends were correct, and the Dark King in the north feared and hated the Men of the West. Amlach denounced the words of the thing that had taken his shape, and he and many others were deeply troubled by this treachery. Yet not all minds could be swayed, and Bereg persisted, taking a thousand men of his House back over the Blue Mountains, and after them went some of Marach’s people. Amlach, however, repented of his malcontent and swore he would avenge himself against the Enemy, saying: “I have now a quarrel of my own with this Master of Lies, which will last to my life’s end.” Thus Amlach departed Estolad for the North, entering into the service of the elf-lord Maedhros of Himring, and fought under his command until he perished in battle against the vampires of Gorthaur, an honorable warrior to the last. But in Estolad the remnant of the people of Marach dwindled, some turning west to join their kin in the shadow of Ered Wethrin and the rest disappearing back over the mountains and out of the tales of the Elder Days.
three houses of the edain ❂ house of hador ❂ headcanon disclaimer
Marach was the leader of the third and largest group of Men to cross the Blue Mountains into Beleriand. Though originally his people led the way, they were so numerous that they needed to move slowly to keep together, and thus were passed by the peoples of Balan and Halthor. Indeed, Marach’s people had begun their journey long before the other Houses of Men, and it was in part their march that inspired the others to turn westward. Several generations passed between the start of their journey and its conclusion, enough that the original purpose of their travel had been lost, though not their resolve to continue. The leadership of this people at first belonged to the man Legen and his ancestors, but when Legen was killed in a hunting accident before they ascended the mountains, his partner stepped forth to fill his role, for their sons were far too young to inherit the position. This was Marach, and though at first some were uncertain of his capability to lead while also caring for sons only five and two years of age, Marach soon proved himself to be firm, wise, and worthy of their loyalty. Though the Green-elves of Ossiriand had turned away the other Men who entered their lands on the far side of Ered Luin, they were intimidated by the tall, warlike people of Marach and dared not confront them. Yet despite the loveliness of the forest, Marach did not wish to tarry long in Ossiriand, for he had heard that the people of Balan, kin to his own folk and speakers of the same tongue, had found a green and fertile land further down the Dwarf Road. He led his people to reunite with their distant kin in the land of Estolad and settled to the southeast of the lands of Baran, son of Balan, who now led his father’s folk. After some years, many of Marach’s people desired to journey further west, but Marach was content in Estolad and would not lead them hither. Instead his elder son, Malach Aradan who had served the Elvenking of Hithlum in his youth, took a majority of their people to the southern slopes of Ered Wethrin. Marach remained in Estolad until his death, his younger son Imlach at his side
heirs of the house of Marach, Imlach and Malach Aradan
Marach and his sons, the Green-Elves /do/ decide to start killing them
His second son is shaking. Imlach's wounds are light, but he has had no time to staunch a jagged cut across his brow, and half his face is caked with blood. It reminds Marach, absurdly, of a painted festival dancer. Against it, he eyes are white and wild, and when he speaks, his voice is breathless, quavering.
"It was dark, they attacked us from the trees - they had arrows, father, with heads made of some metal, harder than bronze, and darker, and we could not see their archers among the leaves and - I am sorry - we panicked, we all did, and they picked us off as we sought cover in the woods, father, I am so sorry."
Marach catches him as he falls, and holds him. He can feel the hollow, wrenching sobs deep in his own chest. "Where are the survivors?"
"Malach ... when last I saw him, he - he had gathered a great party about him, in the large clearing where the river curves. Where they can at least see their attackers. If there are any others, I ...I -"
"You could not have saved them." He lifts his Imlach's head, and looks into his eyes, until his breathing slows. "We had no warning of the attack, no knowledge of these lands, nowhere safe to hide. Imlach, look at me. There is nothing more you could have done."
Imlach shakes his head. "Where will we go now?"
"We will take shelter in Gabilgathol, as long as they will have us, and then - " He forces the next words from his throat. "Back into the east."
Happy (very belated) birthday, Jess (houseofhaleth) ! You asked for something with Azaghâl, and I promise she does show up. I headcanon Azaghâl as a title, rather than a name, and due to the time the fic is set, she wouldn't be using it yet. She's the dwarf called Alviss.
They made camp in the cool, blue shadow of the mountains, so near that Marach now had to strain his neck to see the sunrise line the ridge in gold. He could already hear the beginnings of motion from the loose circle of tents. A cold wind carried away the smoke from last night’s fires.
“You have them, Malach?”
Brewer's Briefcase
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