The song was one of some length and it filled the time for much of their ascent towards the mountain’s peaks. She soon noticed that Belegos was still physically worn by the injuries he had and the heavy cart he pushed ahead of him. So Eliriael walked beside Belegos and Vëon’s body, pulling the cart beside her as much as she could, though her strength was too little to lessen Belegos’ burden at all.
At some point during the beginning parts of her song, Eliriael noticed a tall elf with golden hair and the stature of a veteran warrior walk up to Belegos with a powerful but controlled gait. Though his movements seemed calm and reserved, she sensed from him a great strength that was both vigorous and steadily firm. She saw the image of a tree emblazoned on the front of his clothes as he exchanged words with Belegos. Then she noticed the stranger give a pointed look at Vëon in the cart and then at her before he turned back to speak with Belegos. She continued singing but drew closer to her rescuer protectively, unsure of what to think of their new company.
As they drew higher into the mountain, the road grew steeper and Eliriael’s feet tired. She knew they were all moving much slower than before and the rocks in their path were larger and more imposing now. She had to be more mindful of where she placed her feet, but still she continued the song, which was nearing its end. The tune kept her mind off the harshness of the climb at least and let her mind drift to pleasant memories and her dreams of Valinor.
Walking beside the cart, she looked down at Vëon’s still body and hoped her song was helping him in some way as he slept. His clothes were torn in many places and Eliriael’s eyes were drawn quickly to the markings on his armor that indicated injuries underneath. Her mother would heal him when they reached safety. Vëon lay unmoving with his limbs bent uncomfortably in the cart. Eliriael wished there was a better place for him, but she knew that even the cart had been a blessing to receive in their circumstances. She would have thought him lifeless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest and the occasional wince that emerged upon his face during their journey. Thus, she sang the song until its end, watching Vëon closely. At the close of her song, Vëon’s lips opened and Eliriael distinguished his voice. Though he was unconscious, the sounds that poured from his lips were caressed by affection to form the word Almië. Eliriael tilted her head, wondering what meaning it had. For as she looked at Vëon, she knew instinctively that it was something precious to him.
Suddenly, she felt movement beside her and noticed that the elf from before, who wore a tree upon his chest, had come up beside Belegos and laid a hand upon his shoulder. He spoke in a subdued but strong voice, as if he was used to commanding attention and respect, “I admire your efforts, but you cannot carry on like this forever. Please, let me help you.”
Eliriael looked up at Belegos who looked weary, but he was reluctant to impose his burden onto another. “I do not mean to go on forever, only until we reach our place of rest, or he awakes.”
The golden-haired elf nodded, looking grave before a small flicker of amusement lit his eyes and brought a change upon his countenance. “Even so, I would not have it that you exhaust yourself, for if you find that you are no longer able to carry on, I fear that I would be hard put to it indeed if I were to push both of you in this barrow!” The smile that followed made the transformation upon his face complete and Eliriael saw the stranger in a different light. He winked at her and a chuckle bubbled from her lips.
Belegos nodded and gave a small smile in return. “Who would I be then, to turn down a good deed in these times? You are most kind.” Thus, he carefully handed the cart over to their new travel companion, but Eliriael saw that Belegos watched his friend, Vëon, still for some time after.
Belegos placed his hand in hers and she was glad that he had allowed someone else to ease his responsibilities, if only for a short time. In her soft palm she could feel how the fighting and the wooden cart handles had treated his hands harshly. She wrapped her fingers delicately around his hand and gave a light squeeze – she would protect them now.
Eliriael regained her sense of vigor with Belegos beside her and the knowledge that there was a kind elf, who would help him. As they pressed onward, the landscape of the mountain changed around them. To their right, the rocks rose higher until they threatened to form a wall to shut out the Sun. And to their other side, the mountain fell away into a dark chasm that swallowed any presence of light. The path grew narrower, herding the elves into a closer and tighter formation, spreading them into a long winding line. This slowed the movements of the survivors and a general hush fell upon them all as the mountain closed in on them with its oppressive darkness.
As they walked between the mountain’s rock wall and deep pit, a shrill wind began to fill the void left by the refugees’ silence. The thin fabric of Eliriael’s whispy dress whipped around her and she lowered her head away from the current. The sharp cry of the air rushed past her ears, with a roaring deafness trailing behind. It was pushing against her small form for awhile before she suddenly felt actual bodies pressing towards her.
Eliriael lifted her head to see why others had turned around and were rushing past her. Then, Belegos too, preparing to go with them, dropped her hand and turned towards her. “Wait here Eli, I will return shortly.” The next sentences he seemed to say with some difficulty. “If…If I should not, follow Tuor and his company. They will lead you out of these mountains and to safety.”
She looked up at him disbelievingly, her eyes beginning to dampen, wondering why he was trying to leave. It echoed of her father’s promise to come find her later, which he had assured her of the previous night. Yet Belegos was resolute and his eyes both pleaded with and commanded her, so she nodded.
Belegos then turned to their new friend, who still pushed Vëon’s cart, and spoke with him. Over the wind and elves hastening past, she overheard nothing. Then the golden-haired elf grinned and passed Belegos the sword at his side with one fluid motion. Accepting the blade, her rescuer bowed his head quickly and dashed off in the same direction with other soldiers. She watched his back until his figure dissolved into the throng of warriors just as her father had vanished among the wardens of Gondolin.
