The Feud of Shadow and Light

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The clouds hung leaden and gray; threatened rain that would not fall. The dullness of the late afternoon sky disrupted by lightening that forked in the clouds and thunder that rolled across the fields drowning out commands, bellows and cries of pain.

A great host of men and elves lay siege on Barad-dûr and the black gates of Sauron. Another day in one of almost ten years. Where lay hope if not here?

Far from the battlefield, the city of tents rose as far as the eye could see. Elf and man camped check and jowl.

Among the noble and common elf and man two houses of elf-kin, the Rohmë both Shadow and Dore stood united.

Long forgiven for their participation with Fëanor and allowed to pass from the far eastern shores of Endor they had come westward settling in Forlindon, Lindon, Minhiriath and Enedwaith.

Forgiven they may have been, but their treachery would never be allowed to be forgotten. They were forever marked by the Valar as a sign to all that their hearts were dark, and impenetrable, their temperament warlike and violent. They stood golden among their marble hued kindred. An incongruous mark to illustrate their betrayal for the beauty it lent them. They struggled with the stigma and alienation their beautiful skin affected among the others of their kind. How they chose to contend with this state was as varied as the individual encountering it.

As their kindred elves had divided, so had the Rohmë; Shadow Rohmë dark haired and blue eyed and the Dore Rohmë honey haired and green eyed.

Geographically the Shadow Rohmë settled in Minhiriath and Enedwaith while the Dore Rohmë had moved further north to Forlindon and Lindon. These lands they quickly overwhelmed and asserted their dominance through sheer will, aggressiveness of purpose and not more than a few politically advantageous marriages. With them, they carried bloody rites, and a language that had died in the lands after their banishment as if to defy all who would shun them.

Brave and tenacious they joined in the struggle against Sauron, earning much respect and redemption in the eyes of their kindred elves. Of man, they held little concern on their opinions of the Rohmë.

Of the Shadow Rohmë on this field was a young ellon or in Rohmë fiú, Orodin Tur-anion. He had come with his father Ernil and younger brother Fael. This was his first battle, he and his brother and together they walked from the battlefield exted,ted, bloodied and muddied. Their father following them smiling proudly as they made their way through the tent city to the one the three shared. The Tur-anion pennant of cream fluttered in the high wind over their heads.

Orodin paused at the bucket before their tent that held cold, clean drinking water and taking a cup dipped it into the clear water. Raising the cup to his lips, his eyes met those of a young elleth/elárusítónõ. Her lips parted, closed and she stepped away. Orodin dropped the cup and walked quickly after her.

“Wait!” He called breathlessly. She turned. “What is your name elárusítónõ?”
“Meleanwen, of the...”
“Dore Rohmë, yes, and I am Orodin Tur-anion.”
“I am betrothed…” Meleanwen looked away, dropped her voice, “Please, it is settled, I cannot…” However, she did not leave.
“Return the ring, Meleanwen, you look upon your husband.”

Meleanwen walked quickly to him, “I do. Igen, I do,” she looked into Orodin’s dirty face, met emerald green eyes, her lips parted. She took a breath, “but I cannot return the ring. Leave me to my grief, join me in the Undying Lands.”
“No wife, hear me,” he took her hands with ones that trembled, “The Undying Lands would not suit us now. We are young and not weary of this world. Not even this battle touches my soul, nor does it yours. We are Rohmë and embrace this darkness; take it into our own. Smell the blood? It is exciting is it not? Would you trade this living to that in The Undying Lands?”
Meleanwen shook her head.
“Return the ring, I will find one of my own to give you, or better yet marry me now and I will give you a ring when we return home.”
“I will return the ring, férj.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“I will come for you with my Atya and báty to bear as witness.”
“No, wait for me, I will come to you.”
“As you ask, feleség, drágán feleség. I will tell my Atya.”
“Nyelves csók,” she whispered.
Orodin leaned toward her and gently pressed his lips to hers.
~~~~~
“I am sorry Eriad,” Meleanwen removed the ring from her finger, “but I cannot marry you. If I had not come, I would not be doing as I am now, but I have and in doing so have met my soul mate. If I were to marry you it would mean my death.”

Eriad Ar-Feiniel stood in blood-slimed armor staring at his beloved, who was no longer his.

“If you marry him when you have promised me, it will mean your death Meleanwen, for I will kill him for this insult and this outrage!” Eriad shouted with fury. “He should not have approached you with my ring so plain upon your finger, he should have walked away!”
“But he did not, nor did I,” Meleanwen stood tall before Eriad,willwill not marry you, Eriad. It is at its’ end.”

Eriad looked at the ring he held in the palm of his gloved hand, “You have broken my heart this day, Meleanwen. I will never forgive you. Tell your husband I will have blood for this and then I will think on you no more.”
~~~~~~

“That was rashly done, Orodin,” Ernil frowned at his eldest son, “The fiú whoever he is will not take this lying down.”
“Igen Atya, it was, but I will have her and if not this night then tomorrow,” Orodin answered angrily, sighed and softened his tone, “Atya be happy for me, I have waited so long to find her.”
“Orodin, I am happy for you, I have longed to be a grandfather now that you and your brother are grown…my halls are too quiet these years, but you should have consulted me, allowed me to council you. I could have approached her father on your behalf.” Ernil answered gently when he wanted to shout with anger that this looked something akin to stealing.
“I am sorry Atya, you are right, but it is done now, Meleanwen returns the ring this night.”
“Congratulations, Orodin!s yos younger brother Feal smiled and embraced him.
“It is not done yet, save your congratulations when the elárusítónõ is in his bed in Forlindon.”

“Meleanwen!” Her father stood aghast, “Do you not what you have done?!”
“Igen Atya, I do.”
“We should have left you home!” Her brother Aradil shouted, “I told you Atya!”
“It is done. I am of the age to consent Atya, I do not need your permission. Walk with me to my husband or stand aside, but I go and I go now,” she looked from her father to her brother, it would be impossible to stay tonight.
”Oh child…you have undone what I have taken such pains to build…”
“I am sorry for that, Atya, but I would die of grief now if you do not let me go.”
“You fool!” Aradil paced away shouted at the roof of the tent.
“Atya!” Meleanwen called in outrage.
“Aradil,” their father chided him, “Let me think…”
“What is there to think on Atya can cannot marry Eriad now, or ever. Please Atya, Anya would understand.”
“Child,” Her father shook his honeyed head, “Your Anya was a gentle soul whom I grieve for every day, but even she would say that this is folly what you have done and agree that we must mend fences with the family of Eriad Ar-Feiniel.”
“You will not use me as a rail, Atya,” Meleanwen brushed by her father, and she twisted from his grasp and bolted from the tent.

She ran. She ran as if her life depended upon it; and so it did.

“Orodin!” She called for his aid, “Orodin!”

Hearing her cry, he ran from his own, followed by his father and brother.
“Meleanwen!” He cried back, “Meleanwen!”

She flew into his arms as the two families converged their personal guard attending, alarmed by the pairs calls and flight of their lord fathers.

Between the two armed families, they held each other.
“I bind you to me…”
“No!” Elthair shouted.
“I bind you to me, Meleanwen!” Orodin said loudly through the din of their families shouting over them.
“I bind you to me, Orodin.” She answered and kissed him, wrapped her arms around him and clung afraid and fierce.

“Tur-anion!” Eriad screamed drawing his sword, his own father Nurinil backing him.
“Ar-Feiniel!” Feal answered.
“I call on the Valar to bless this marriage.” Ernil intoned over the pair, “Illúvatar!”
“No!” Eriad shouted again.
“It is done!” Feal shouted back.
“There,” Ernil spoke to his son, drawing him and Meleanwen into the protection of their family and retainers, “now we must hold her.”
“Meleanwen!” Her father called, “Meleanwen, please!”
“Nem Atya! Let me go, it is done do not join Eriad in his pursuit of vengeance!” Meleanwen called from the shelter of Orodin’s arms, “I do not love you Eriad! I beg you let me go with the one who is the other half of myself.”
“Go! But I will have you!” He pointed his sword at Orodin, “Igen, I will have you for this!”

Thus began the feud of the Tur-anion and Ar-Feiniel.