The short history that follows is attributed to Nyellondil’s A Chronicle of the Lives of the Issue of the Unions of the Teleri and the Noldor Upon Middle-earth, penned in the year 2566 of the Third Age. Of this text, three copies are known: an original writ in Telerin and brought by Nyellondil to Valinor when he departed Middle-earth upon the Straight Road; a copy in Quenya that the scribe left in trust to the loremasters of Imladris; and a partial, unfinished, and unsigned translation of this latter copy, rendered in a thin and spidery hand. Of this translation, only a few errant leaves now remain, and these, a gift of the Ernil i Pheriannath, are housed in the word-hoard of the Queen Arwen in the Houses of Lore from which the present text is derived. 

Though it is likely that this is the last record of its kind to tell in full the legend of Nenaras Neldion, the Dooméd Mariner of Valinor, there may yet remain Fair Folk in the Hidden Valley of Imladris that dimly remember its history. In that Last and Lonely House East of the Sea, one may, perchance, hear it in the song of a golden-haired harpist whose handsome voice haunts the starry eaves of Hûd Eledhrim, a fairy of ages past….

Lathron of Lebennin, Fo.A. 64.

I

     It is said by the Eldar that Nenaras Neldion was born in the Blessed Realm of Valinor in the Uttermost West to Minion of the Noldor and Earmírie of the Teleri. Now, Minion was the son of Lírendis and she a sister to Lírtamo, Lord of the House of Maiwë, who was a great builder and craftsman in Valinor, and who is remembered in the histories of Middle-earth as the Castellan of Himring, a loyal knight to the seven sons of Fëanor. In Mindon Lotarwa, which is the Tower of the Flowering Stream, in Tirion Upon Túna he dwelt, and there founded a brotherhood of poets and artists whose troth it was to bring beauty into Arda as Eru had done and Melkor marred. 

     Now Lírtamo loved his sister well, and when she with her husband Glornassë of the Vanyar departed Tirion for Valmar, he fostered their son, Minion, who yet longed to remain in the city of the Noldor; and having no son of his own, Lírtamo named the boy his heir. Under Lírtamo’s tutelage, Minion became a maker of many fair things and thus did he staunch the wound his mother’s parting had inflicted upon the heart of Lírtamo. Yet with the passing of years, Minion became seized by a desire in his fëa to abandon the embowered tower of his uncle and wander the far reaches of Aman. Lírtamo, sensing the impatience of his sister-son, instructed him journey to the haven of Alqualondë and there trade with the Teleri for pearls, which Lírtamo held fairer than any jewel that Aman’s crust would yield. 

     And so it came to pass that Minion went to Alqualondë and there found a thing far dearer than pearls: the Elf-maid Earmírie, whom he loved. Along the coasts of Aman they were wed and there Minion remained for many years unto the sorrow of Lírtamo who treasured Minion above any thing his hand had ever wrought. Thus, again did Lírtamo find his heart rent by the leave-taking of kin. 

     Now in that span that the Eldar call the Time of the Children, Earmírie bore Minion two daughters and a son, who was the last of their children. ‘Neldion’, Minion named this son, but ‘Nenaras’ Earmírie called him, which is stag-of-the-water in the tongue of the Grey-elves, for it is said that Earmírie presaged that her son would one day depart Eldamar for Hither Shores, leaping the Sundering Seas as a buck bounds a brook. And though Neldion was Noldo by birth, he was reared as a child of the Teleri and, like to that people, ever delighted in the wonders of the sea, becoming a great fisher, swimmer, and mariner. And being reared among the Teleri, the artistry of the Noldor was not lessened in him but rather much increased, for the Teleri were deemed the fairest of singers in all of Aman and from them Neldion learned much in the way of song, becoming in long years thereafter a great minstrel to the lords and princes of Middle-earth. 

     Yet these happy days of song and sea-play were not to last, for in that time Melkor was unchained by the Valar, and he hastened unrest amidst the Noldor so that friend no longer honoured friend and kinsman no longer held faith in kinsman. Among these was Lírtamo, who ever loyal to Finwë and his trueborn heir, Fëanor, mistrusted the Prince Fingolfin that was now ruler in Tirion the Fair, and he mistrusted also the prince’s followers, many of whom he once counted as students and esteemed peers. Moreover, his heart darkened towards the Valar, for it was whispered that it was they who installed the son of Indis as regent in Tirion and this was done so that the prince might temper the Noldor’s swelling ambitions of rule in Middle-earth, wherefore Lírtamo imagined he might have crafted greater works and found less grief than that which he had known in Aman. Thus sickened with suspicion, Lírtamo became affrighted by the shadow of the thought that amidst these distrustful days a conflict among the Noldor might erupt and in that conflict his sister-son would turn against him. Therefore, he recalled Minion to Tirion, and Minion, though aggrieved to be sundered from Earmírie (who would not abandon Alqualondë), consented for he perceived that he was as a son to Lírtamo and being thus could not refuse his lord’s summons. 

     Now Neldion, who was at that time but a child in the reckoning of the Quendi, begged leave of his father to permit him to join the muster at Tirion, for having the fëa of an artist ever had he been enamoured of that white city and the light of the Silmarils therein. These he had beheld with rapture in the journeys that he and his mother had often made to the Great Square of Tirion whither they would hawk pearls, and whither also Fëanor would come, wearing the Silmarils upon his brow. O! How the light of those Jewels did rebound the shimmer of the pearls of the Teleri, such that the stones took on forms queer and colours unthought, and became fairer than anything Neldion’s mind, artful though it was, had ever devised! Thus, when Minion spake of his resolution to return to Tirion, Neldion recalled the light of the Silmarils and desired greatly to see them once again, crying to his father, ‘Hark, sire! Though I be a child of the Teleri, am I not also a son of the Noldor? Why shouldst thou be permitted to dwell within sight of the prize of our people whilst I remain by the water, artless and alone, as a wolf in summer in the Hither Lands (or so my mother tells me) awaits the return of the autumn salmon? Permit me, sire, to journey to Tirion, I beg of thee!’  

     And to this Minion consented, for he was, it is said, a gentle-hearted Quendë who loved his son dearly. And being thus, Miniom knew he could not long endure a parting from his son, and gaining new wisdom in this, now understood also the injury he had done Lírtamo by tarrying in Alqualondë. Therefore, Minion resolved to redress the sundering of the House of Maiwë and to take up his place as its heir in the Tower of the Flowering Stream, where, he deemed, by bringing his son thither, he might unite his household and gird it against the encroaching darkness of which Lírtamo’s summons presaged. 

     Thus, Neldion and Minion departed Alqualondë and rode to Tirion, unto Mindon Lotarwa. There, they found the tower encircled by a great wall, which Lírtamo had erected in the darkling days of the Noldor. It is said that when Neldion and Minion passed its mithril gates, they were greeted by a cruel sight, for, shut out from the Light of the Trees, the many flowers of the Tower of the Flowering Stream, of which songs uncounted had been sung, lay withered, bloomless branches that twined pallid tower-stone. Yet little time did father or son devote to lament for there, amidst the wilting gardens, stood Lírtamo. Clad he was in shining silver mail and upon his slender waist was girt a bright sword. At the sight of him, Neldion and Minion were much struck. Never before had either seen such awful things as Lírtamo bore, for in those Elder Days ere the rising of the Sun, the Amanyar neither forged nor bore armour and arms. Yet, being dutiful to his lord, Minion set aside this shock and knelt before Lírtamo, and he bade Neldion do the same. And, having witnessed their contrition, Lírtamo ushered them into the cold tower, whither they dwelt for many years. 

     In that time, father and son alike learned much from Lírtamo in the making of armour and arms, which he in turn had learned, it is said, of the Enemy whence he went abroad among the Noldor in friendly guise. Neldion, under Lírtamo, came also to learn of his own power in craft and he grew proud, looking now on things his hands had shaped among the Teleri—boat and rope and the net of the fisherman—as the essays of a child, unworthy of the artistry he now possessed. Only the Noldor, he came to believe, could birth wonders like the Silmarils, which, he held, surpassed even the greatest strivings of the Aratar. Yet never again would Neldion see these Jewels, for though he oft traveled with his father and his lord to Formenos, Fëanor guarded the Silmarils jealously and Lírtamo forbade Neldion from asking the prince sight of them, though both their hearts greatly desired it.

     At the last, the Silmarils fell into the hands of Morgoth when he unleashed his designs upon the Noldor, slaying Finwë, their king, and extinguishing evermore the Light of the Trees. The House of Maiwë had long prepared for such a day, for they had gorged greedily on Morgoth’s lies, and when Fëanor mustered the Noldor at the high court of the King at the height of Túna, they were among the first to march thither with banners unfurled, the white gull crying ‘neath mist-shrouded starlight. And Neldion, clad in the mail he wrought and bearing unsheathed the sword he forged in the ceaseless fires of Mindon Lotarwa, raised his voice high among the clamour of the Noldor as Fëanor and his seven sons swore that terrible Oath. 

     During the Long Night, it is known only that Neldion, alongside Minion and Lírtamo, rode with the Host of Fëanor to Alqualondë. But, coming to the Swanhaven, the three Elves with their knights and retainers both broke from the host and traveled a little ways northward to the halls whither Earmírie dwelt with her two daughters and others of her close kin. Little is said of what happened there for none now live who could tell it, save Nenaras Neldion, who yet wanders Middle-earth, and of this he will not speak.