S.A 1350
Orneth handed Demdor a note before announcing her intention to stay for a few days. Realizing there was no point in waiting, Demdor gazed at her with concern etched across his face. "I do not feel comfortable leaving you here. You are different. You do not belong here," he remarked. Orneth beamed reassuringly and replied, "Do not worry, I have actually met an old friend. Besides, I want to keep a low profile while I search for Manyamë. Please do not concern yourself with me. I would appreciate it if you could deliver my note to Lord Mannamo. I do not want them to worry either." Demdor nodded understandingly, his eyes alight with understanding. "Very well. I will patrol here regularly, so if you need to be escorted back, please do not hesitate to tell me. See you soon, Lady Orneth," he said before turning and trotting away on his horse. Orneth watched him go, a warm feeling of gratitude swelling within her chest.
On her first day at the encampment, Orneth was granted her own tent. Outside, guards kept a watchful eye on her tent and the others that lay in close proximity to the colossal red tent that housed Naerchanar. Her own tent was constructed from thick, weather-resistant fabric with a secure locking mechanism to ensure her safety. Inside, she discovered a few basic furnishings: a table, chests, a small cooking station, and a bedroll. Despite being unsure of the encampment's purpose, other than being a haven for soldiers and refugees from Beleriand, Orneth refused to dwell on it. Her sole focus was on finding her friend Manyamë. Outside, she encountered other Eldar who were friendly enough, but due to the constant influx of newcomers and departing Eldar, everyone kept to themselves.
Orneth was overwhelmed by an unrelenting desire to see Naerchanar again, to uncover the truth of what had happened to him after the battle at Sirion. Despite her longing, she hesitated outside his red tent, feeling unwelcome due to his dismissive demeanor. Yet, driven by her purpose, she strode boldly towards the entrance, determined to see him. A guard barred her way, but upon hearing her name, he bowed and guided her into the main room with the map table. The guards' reverence for Naerchanar and their insistence that she wait for him made Orneth realize that he was held in high esteem. She accepted their customs, but the formality left her uneasy. Moments later, a guard appeared from behind a wall carpet, beckoning her towards a second room. "You may enter," he announced, granting her passage. Nervously, Orneth stepped inside. Naerchanar sat at the desk, scribbling away with his quill, and the room was devoid of sound except for the scratch of his pen.
As Orneth approached him, her heart racing, she couldn't help but blush. The warm, humorous, and friendly Naerchanar she once knew had been replaced by a cold and detached figure. His presence left her feeling unsettled, and she struggled to find the right words to say. Orneth's voice trembled as she spoke, "No matter what you may think of me, I am here with the best of intentions. I swear, my only mission is to find our friend Manyamë." Naerchanar remained silent, his quill scratching against the paper. Orneth pressed on, "You used to adore her. I know you despise the Prince and what happened in Doriath and Sirion, but you once knew Manyamë. You know she is harmless." Naerchanar finally looked up, his gaze piercing through Orneth. "So why do you think she is here?" he asked. Orneth nodded, "I found a map in Golden Hope, made by her son. We saw a marking on the map - this settlement." Naerchanar's eyes narrowed, "And why did you come alone?" Orneth's head bowed, "Well, they are Noldorians; that is why. Demdor mentioned that you most likely would not accept them in this camp. We didn't know you were the leader." He examined her from head to toe, making Orneth feel incredibly uncomfortable. "Well, here you are," he said finally, "but she is not here." Orneth's disappointment was evident as she nodded, "I understand." Naerchanar simply nodded and went back to his writing. The tension in the room was palpable as Orneth lingered, unsure of what to do next.
Orneth was on the verge of leaving when she impulsively asked Naerchanar about his escape from the havens of Sirion. He let out a deep sigh and put away his quill before standing up and walking towards one of the maps. His words carried a weight that made Orneth hold her breath. "I had to watch my loved ones die," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I was young, too young to see so much death. But I had my bow, and I fought. The battles were frantic, with blood raining down on us. And amidst all of it, I saw your mother and my friends fall." Orneth's heart sank at the mention of her mother. She could feel the tension in the air and the weight of Naerchanar's words. He continued, "Feawing left with a large number of Eldar, and I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, we could have outnumbered the infamous Noldor that came if she had stayed. But she didn't, and we were defeated." Naerchanar's eyes met Orneth's, and she could see the pain and anguish etched on his face. "I managed to hide and run, joining a group of soldiers heading east after the defeat. But the images in my head...they are grotesque and haunting," his voice trailed off. Tears welled up in Orneth's eyes, and she couldn't help but ask about her mother. "How did she die?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The air was thick with tension as Naerchanar looked at her, his expression somber.
Naerchanar's eyes bore into Orneth's, as if searching for something within her. His voice was softer now as he recounted the tragedy of her mother's death, how she had run headlong into battle in a desperate attempt to save her beloved husband. "I caught her up, but then it was too late. The mob marched all over her, and she died before my eyes." Orneth's heart ached as she tried to process the news. She had always known in her heart that her mother was gone, but to have it confirmed in such a brutal way was almost too much to bear. "I am a little shocked," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I did expect it somehow, but it is hard to have it confirmed. Although, I hope she did not suffer." Naerchanar looked at her with a mix of sadness and understanding. "No, it all went so fast. It happened in a moment," he said gently. "I hate to share the news with you. I am sorry about her fate." Orneth nodded slowly. "Very well. Since Manyamë is probably not in this settlement, I will leave and continue my search elsewhere," she said, her voice weak and filled with sorrow.
He spoke up, his voice gentle yet firm. "Sometimes we must come to terms with the fact that there are certain people in our lives whom we may never see again." The weight of his words hung heavily in the air as he continued, "My advice to you, Orneth, is to stop your search. Do not invest your entire life chasing after someone who may no longer be of this world." Orneth nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of hurt as his words sank in. But deep down, she knew he was right. "You speak the truth," she finally replied, her voice low and subdued. "We have been searching for many, many years. This was our last hope. We heard that she was headed towards Eregion, and we found this settlement highlighted on the map. But alas, it seems she is not here after all. We have no other leads." She turned her sorrowful gaze towards him, determined not to let any tears fall in front of him.
As he approached her, he gently grasped her upper arms, and the warmth of his touch enveloped her like a comforting embrace. "Don't be disheartened, Orneth," he spoke softly, his voice a soothing balm to her troubled soul. She looked down, tears welling up in her eyes, and felt the weight of his words. "The only ones I have left are Mannamo's family and Manyamë, who was my best friend. My whole life, I have stayed with them, and they have treated me well. Lady Laynarë has been nothing but kind to me all these years. I really wanted to find her daughter, to give her back what she had lost. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to find her." His hand lingered a little before he continued, "If I find her, I will tell you," he promised, reaching up to brush away a stray lock of hair from her face. "You have not really changed that much." Orneth's smile widened at his words, and she looked up at him with gratitude. "I am glad I found you though," she admitted, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "I do not know what I will do from now on. I guess I will need to go back to the city of Eregion tomorrow." He smiled at her, his eyes full of understanding. "I will personally escort you back to Demdor," he offered, his voice firm and reassuring. "He is still around and lurking near the settlement, faithful to his mission, and obviously has great concerns regarding you."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "Hmmm...there is a small feast tonight. We will celebrate the autumn and the successful harvesting at our farms in honor of Yavannië. I would be happy to see you around before you leave." Orneth felt a small shift within her, and she remembered her friend once again. He was showing signs of warmth again, and it made her feel hopeful, a small smile gracing her lips. "Yes, I can do that."
All Pictures are AI-generated from Microsoft Bing DALL·E
