[Mithadan]

Nardol's face darkened at first. But when he spoke, his words were carefully measured. "Of Dwarves and Elves, there are some of both races who are greedy and love overmuch the works of their own hands. But others of both races give of their work freely or at a fair price. It is unfair to say that one or the other is greedy."

Then his face lightened and he seemed to perceive a vision from afar. "The Silmarils," he said with a sigh. "At a time of festival in Aman, members of Finwe's house were called together to the great hall in his house on Tuna in Valinor. None knew why they were summoned, yet a rumour had gone forth that Fëanor had undertaken some great work. So many were gathered in that hall, all arrayed in the dress of festival and there were musicians and all were happy for no shadow had yet sullied the light of Valinor. I remember it well..."

Andreth interrupted in amazement. "You were there? That was ages ago!"

Nardol looked at the woman with an amused look upon his face. "There are yet some few of the Noldor living in Middle Earth who were born in Aman ere Morgoth the accursed slew the Trees. I am one of these."

The faraway look returned to his face and he continued. "Finwë called for the torches to be dimmed and the curtains drawn. And even as the room grew dim, Fëanor stepped forward bearing a case of black leather bound in silver. As he opened the case, a light came forth more fair than the glow of the stars. He drew forth the Silmarils and they were set in a circlet of Mithril and he set them upon his brows. At first they glowed and burned softly with an inner light. Then they blazed forth with the blended light of the trees, illuminating the room like the dawn."

He seemed almost to be talking to himself while wandering lost in a vision. "And when their light first filtered through the room, I beheld her. Gilwen, the fair, maiden of the stars. She who would be my wife. And while all were enraptured by the gems of Fëanor, I could see nothing else but Gilwen, her hair lit by the light of the Trees that dwelt and even now dwells in the Silmarils. I walked to her..."

He grew silent and his face dimmed as if a shadow had drawn over it. "Your wife?" asked Andreth. "Where is she now?"

He clenched his jaw and his eyes blazed. Bowing his head, he answered. "Gone! Driven away by the evil of Men. She has passed over the sea into the West with my son.' And with that he stalked away...

[ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]