In this earliest narrative, on the other hand, there is no mention of the beginning of growth during the time when the Lamps shone (see p. 69), and the first trees and low plants appeared under Yavanna’s spells in the twilight after their overthrow. Moreover in the last sentence of this tale ‘seeds were sown’, in that time of ‘quiet dusk’ while Melko was chained, ‘that waited only for the light to come’. Thus in the early story Yavanna sows in the dark with a view (it seems) to growth and flowering in later days of sunlight, whereas in all the subsequent versions the goddess in the time of darkness sows no more, but rather lays a sleep on many things that had arisen beneath the light of the Lamps in the Spring of Arda. But both in the early tale and in The Silmarillion there is a suggestion that Yavanna foresees that light will come in the end to the Great Lands, to Middle-earth.
The conception of a flowing, liquid light in the airs of Earth is again very marked, and it seems that in the original idea the twilight ages of the world east of the sea were still illumined by the traces of this light (‘Seldom now falls the shimmering rain as it was used, and there reigns a gloom lit with pale streaks’, p. 98) as well as by the stars of Varda, even though ‘the Gods have gathered so much of that light that had before flowed about the airs’ (ibid.).
The renewed cosmic violence is conceivably the precursor of the great Battle of the Powers in the later mythology (The Silmarillion p. 51); but in this earliest tale Melko’s upheavals are the cause of the Valar’s visitation, whereas the Battle of the Powers, in which the shape of Middle-earth was changed, resulted from it. In The Silmarillion it was the discovery of the newly-awakened Elves by Oromë that led the Valar to the assault on Utumno.
In its rich narrative detail, as in its ‘primitive’ air, the tale told by Meril-i-Turinqi of the capture of Melko bears little relation to the later narrative; while the tone of the encounter at Utumna, and the treacherous shifts of the Valar to ensnare him, is foreign to it likewise. But some elements survived: the chain Angainor forged by Aulë (if not the marvellous metal tilkal with its most uncharacteristically derived name), the wrestling of Tulkas with Melko, his imprisonment in Mandos for ‘three ages’, and the idea that his fortress was not destroyed to its foundations. It emerges too that the clement and trustful character of Manwë was early defined; while the reference to Mandos’ seldom speaking is possibly a foreshadowing of his pronouncing his judgements only at the bidding of Manwë (see p. 90). The origin of nightingales in the domain of Lórien in Valinor is already present.
Lastly, it may seem from the account of the journey of the Valar in this tale that Hisilómë (which survived without any further change as the Quenya name of Hithlum) was here a quite distinct region from the later Hithlum, since it is placed beyond the Mountains of Iron: in The Silmarillion the Mountains of Iron are said to have been reared by Melkor ‘as a fence to his citadel of Utumno’: ‘they stood upon the borders of the regions of everlasting cold, in a great curve from east to west’ (p. 118). But in fact the ‘Mountains of Iron’ here correspond to the later ‘Mountains of Shadow’ (Ered Wethrin). In an annotated list of names accompanying the tale of The Fall of Gondolin the name Dor Lómin is thus defined:
Dor Lómin or the ‘Land of Shadow’ was that region named of the Eldar Hisilómë (and this means ‘Shadowy Twilights’)…and it is so called by reason of the scanty sun which peeps little over the Iron Mountains to the east and south of it.
On the little map given on p. 81 the line of peaks which I have marked f almost certainly represents these mountains, and the region to the north of them, marked g, is then Hisilómë.
The manuscript continues, from the point where I have ended the text in this chapter, with no break; but this point is the end of a section in the mythological narrative (with a brief interruption by Eriol), and the remainder of Meril-i-Turinqi’s tale is reserved to the next chapter. Thus I make two tales of one.
V
THE COMING OF THE ELVES AND THE MAKING OF KÔR
I take this title from the cover of the book (which adds also ‘How the Elves did fashion Gems’), for as I have already remarked the narrative continues without a new heading.
Then said Eriol: ‘Sad was the unchaining of Melko, methinks, even did it seem merciful and just—but how came the Gods to do this thing?’
Then Meril1 continuing said:
‘Upon a time thereafter was the third period of Melko’s prisonment beneath the halls of Mandos come nearly to its ending. Manwë sat upon the top of the mountain and gazed with his piercing eyes into the shades beyond Valinor, and hawks flew to him and from him bearing many great tidings, but Varda was singing a song and looking upon the plain of Valinor. Silpion was at that time glimmering and the roofs of Valmar below were black and silver beneath its rays; and Varda was joyous, but on a sudden Manwë spake, saying: “Behold, there is a gleam of gold beneath the pine-trees, and the deepest gloaming of the world is full of a patter of feet. The Eldar have come, O Taniquetil!” Then Varda arose swiftly and stretched her arms out North and South, and unbraided her long hair, and lifted up the Song of the Valar, and Ilwë was filled with the loveliness of her voice.
Then did she descend to Valmar and to the abode of Aulë and he was making vessels of silver for Lórien. A bason filled with the radiance of Telimpë2 was by his side, and this he used cunningly in his craft, but now Varda stood before him and said: “The Eldar have come!” and Aulë flung down his hammer saying: “Then Ilúvatar hath sent them at last,” and the hammer striking some ingots of silver upon the floor did of its magic smite silver sparks to life, that flashed from his windows out into the heavens. Varda seeing this took of that radiance in the bason and mingled it with molten silver to make it more stable, and fared upon her wings of speed, and set stars about the firmament in very great profusion, so that the skies grew marvellously fair and their glory was doubled; and those stars that she then fashioned have a power of slumbers, for the silver of their bodies came of the treasury of Lórien and their radiance had lain in Telimpë long time in his garden.
Some have said that the Seven Stars were set at that time by Varda to commemorate the coming of the Eldar, and that Morwinyon who blazes above the world’s edge in the west was dropped by her as she fared in great haste back to Valinor. Now this is indeed the true beginning of Morwinyon and his beauty, yet the Seven Stars were not set by Varda, being indeed the sparks from Aulë’s forge whose brightness in the ancient heavens urged Varda to make their rivals; yet this did she never achieve.
But now even as Varda is engaged in this great work, behold, Oromë pricks over the plain, and drawing rein he shouts aloud so that all the ears in Valmar may hear him: “Tulielto! Tulielto! They have come—they have come!” Then he stands midway between the Two Trees and winds his horn, and the gates of Valmar are opened, and the Vali troop into the plain, for they guess that tidings of wonder have come into the world. Then spake Oromë: “Behold the woods of the Great Lands, even in Palisor the midmost region where the pinewoods murmur unceasingly, are full of a strange noise. There did I wander, and lo! ’twas as if folk arose betimes beneath the latest stars. There was a stir among the distant trees and words were spoken suddenly, and feet went to and fro. Then did I say what is this deed that Palúrien my mother has wrought in secret, and I sought her out and questioned her, and she answered: ‘This is no work of mine, but the hand of one far greater did this. Ilúvatar hath awakened his children at the last—ride home to Valinor and tell the Gods that the Eldar have come indeed!’”
Then shouted all the people of Valinor: “I Eldar tulier—the Eldar have come”—and it was not until that hour that the Gods knew that their joy had contained a flaw, or that they had waited in hunger for its completion, but now they knew that the world had been an empty place beset with loneliness having no children for her own.
Now once more is council set and Manwë sitteth before the Gods there amid the Two Trees—and those had now borne light for four ages. Every one of the Vali fare thither, e
ven Ulmo Vailimo in great haste from the Outer Seas, and his face is eager and glad.
On that day Manwë released Melko from Angaino before the full time of his doom, but the manacles and the fetters of tilkal were not unloosed, and he bore them yet upon wrist and ankle. Great joy blindeth even the forewisdom of the Gods. Last of all came Palúrien Yavanna hasting from Palisor, and the Valar debated concerning the Eldar; but Melko sat at the feet of Tulkas and feigned a glad and humble cheer. At length it is the word of the Gods that some of the new-come Eldar be bidden to Valinor, there to speak to Manwë and his people, telling of their coming into the world and of the desires that it awakened in them.
Then does Nornorë, whose feet flash invisibly for the greatness of their speed, hurtle from Valinor bearing the embassy of Manwë, and he goes unstaying over both land and sea to Palisor. There he finds a place deep in a vale surrounded by pine-clad slopes; its floor is a pool of wide water and its roof the twilight set with Varda’s stars. There had Oromë heard the awaking of the Eldar, and all songs name that place Koivië-néni or the Waters of Awakening.
Now all the slopes of that valley and the bare margin of the lake, even the rugged fringes of the hills beyond, are filled with a concourse of folk who gaze in wonder at the stars, and some sing already with voices that are very beautiful. But Nornorë stood upon a hill and was amazed for the beauty of that folk, and because he was a Vala they seemed to him marvellously small and delicate and their faces wistful and tender. Then did he speak in the great voice of the Valar and all those shining faces turned towards his voice.
“Behold O Eldalië, desired are ye for all the age of twilight, and sought for throughout the ages of peace, and I come even from Manwë Súlimo Lord of the Gods who abides upon Taniquetil in peace and wisdom to you who are the Children of Ilúvatar, and these are the words he put into my mouth to speak: Let now some few of you come back with me—for am I not Nornorë herald of the Valar—and enter Valinor and speak with him, that he may learn of your coming and of all your desires.”
Great was the stir and wonder now about the waters of Koivië, and its end was that three of the Eldar came forward daring to go with Nornorë, and these he bore now back to Valinor, and their names as the Elves of Kôr have handed them on were Isil Inwë, and Finwë Nólemë who was Turondo’s father, and Tinwë Lintö father of Tinúviel—but the Noldoli call them Inwithiel, Golfinweg, and Tinwelint. Afterward they became very great among the Eldar, and the Teleri were those who followed Isil, but his kindred and descendants are that royal folk the Inwir of whose blood I am. Nolemë was lord of the Noldoli, and of his son Turondo (or Turgon as they called him) are great tales told, but Tinwë3 abode not long with his people, and yet ’tis said lives still lord of the scattered Elves of Hisilómë, dancing in its twilight places with Wendelin his spouse, a sprite come long long ago from the quiet gardens of Lórien; yet greatest of all the Elves did Isil Inwë become, and folk reverence his mighty name to this day.
Behold now brought by Nornorë the three Elves stood before the Gods, and it was at that time the changing of the lights, and Silpion was waning but Laurelin was awakening to his greatest glory, even as Silmo emptied the urn of silver about the roots of the other Tree. Then those Elves were utterly dazed and astonied by the splendour of the light, whose eyes knew only the dusk and had yet seen no brighter things than Varda’s stars, but the beauty and majestic strength of the Gods in conclave filled them with awe, and the roofs of Valmar blazing afar upon the plain made them tremble, and they bowed in reverence—but Manwë said to them: “Rise, O Children of Ilúvatar, for very glad are the Gods of your coming! Tell us how ye came; how found ye the world; what seemeth it to you who are its first offspring, or with what desires doth it fill you.”
But Nólemë answering said: “Lo! Most mighty one, whence indeed come we! For meseems I awoke but now from a sleep eternally profound, whose vast dreams already are forgotten.” And Tinwë said thereto that his heart told him that he was new-come from illimitable regions, yet he might not recollect by what dark and strange paths he had been brought; and last spake Inwë, who had been gazing upon Laurelin while the others spake, and he said: “Knowing neither whence I come nor by what ways nor yet whither I go, the world that we are in is but one great wonderment to me, and me-thinks I love it wholly, yet it fills me altogether with a desire for light.”
Then Manwë saw that Ilúvatar had wiped from the minds of the Eldar all knowledge of the manner of their coming, and that the Gods might not discover it; and he was filled with deep astonishment; but Yavanna who hearkened also caught her breath for the stab of the words of Inwë, saying that he desired light. Then she looked upon Laurelin and her heart thought of the fruitful orchards in Valmar, and she whispered to Tuivána who sat beside her, gazing upon the tender grace of those Eldar; then those twain said to Manwë: “Lo! the Earth and its shadows are no place for creatures so fair, whom only the heart and mind of Ilúvatar have conceived. Fair are the pine-forests and the thickets, but they are full of unelfin spirits and Mandos’ children walk abroad and vassals of Melko lurk in strange places—and we ourselves would not be without the sight of this sweet folk. Their distant laughter has filtered to our ears from Palisor, and we would have it echo always about us in our halls and pleasaunces in Valmar. Let the Eldar dwell among us, and the well of our joy be filled from new springs that may not dry up.”
Then arose a clamour among the Gods and the most spake for Palúrien and Vána, whereas Makar said that Valinor was builded for the Valar—“and already is it a rose-garden of fair ladies rather than an abode of men. Wherefore do ye desire to fill it with the children of the world?” In this Meássë backed him, and Mandos and Fui were cold to the Eldar as to all else; yet was Varda vehement in support of Yavanna and Tuivána, and indeed her love for the Eldar has ever been the greatest of all the folk of Valinor; and Aulë and Lórien, Oromë and Nessa and Ulmo most mightily proclaimed their desire for the bidding of the Eldar to dwell among the Gods. Wherefore, albeit Ossë spake cautiously against it—belike out of that ever-smouldering jealousy and rebellion he felt against Ulmo—it was the voice of the council that the Eldar should be bidden, and the Gods awaited but the judgement of Manwë. Behold even Melko seeing where was the majority insinuated his guileful voice into the pleading, and has nonetheless since those days maligned the Valar, saying they did but summon the Eldar as to a prison out of covetice and jealousy of their beauty. Thus often did he lie to the Noldoli afterwards when he would stir their restlessness, adding beside all truth that he alone had withstood the general voice and spoken for the freedom of the Elves.
Maybe indeed had the Gods decided otherwise the world had been a fairer place now and the Eldar a happier folk, but never would they have achieved such glory, knowledge, and beauty as they did of old, and still less would any of Melko’s redes have benefited them.
Now having hearkened to all that was said Manwë gave judgement and was glad, for indeed his heart leaned of itself to the leading of the Eldar from the dusky world to the light of Valinor. Turning to the three Eldar he said: “Go ye back now to your kindreds and Nornorë shall bring you swiftly there, even to Koivië-néni in Palisor. Behold, this is the word of Manwë Súlimo, and the voice of the Valar’s desire, that the people of the Eldalië, the Children of Ilúvatar, fare to Valinor, and there dwell in the splendour of Laurelin and the radiance of Silpion and know the happiness of the Gods. An abode of surpassing beauty shall they possess, and the Gods will aid them in its building.”
Thereto answered Inwë: “Fain are we indeed of thy bidding, and who of the Eldalië that have already longed for the beauty of the stars will stay or rest till his eyes have feasted on the blessed light of Valinor!” Thereafter Nornorë guided those Elves back to the bare margins of Koivië-néni, and standing upon a boulder Inwë spake the embassy to all those hosts of the Eldalië that Ilúvatar waked first upon the Earth, and all such as heard his words were filled with desire to see the faces of the Gods.
&
nbsp; When Nornorë returning told the Valar that the Elves were indeed coming and that Ilúvatar had set already a great multitude upon the Earth, the Gods made mighty preparation. Behold Aulë gathers his tools and stuffs and Yavanna and Tuivána wander about the plain even to the foothills of the mountains and the bare coasts of the Shadowy Seas, seeking them a home and an abiding-place; but Oromë goeth straightway out of Valinor into the forests whose every darkling glade he knew and every dim path had traversed, for he purposed to guide the troops of the Eldar from Palisor over all the wide lands west till they came to the confines of the Great Sea.
The Book of Lost Tales, Part 1 Page 16
