Written for the 2021 Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang for Fandom_fun13's wonderful art! Originally posted on the Archive of Our Own here.
Letters from Himring
A selection of correspondence to, from, and within the fortress of Himring in the 62nd year of the Sun,
Compiled and edited with Westron commentary by Hithaeril of Dol Amroth, Second Assistant Archivist of the Royal Gondorian Archives, in the 196th year of the Fourth Age,
Translated into English by Ermingarden and illustrated by Fandom_fun13 in the 2,021st year of the Common Era.
Editor's Preface to the First Westron Edition (Translated)
My esteemed Colleagues, and Scholars of all Lands and Future Ages,
It is my fervent hope that this small Book of Letters will prove to be of interest and of use to you. I have brought together here letters to and from various folk living in Himring, placing and ordering them not by author but rather to show, as faithfully to life as possible, the conversations that took place by means of those letters. To that end, I have at times included notes from the private papers of the letter-writers, when it may enrich the reader's understanding.
The manuscripts of these letters survived the sinking of Beleriand mostly by chance, in various unlikely ways. Halwen's letter to Díneloth was repurposed as part of the binding of a medicinal codex; Maglor wrote a few lines of verse on the back of his note to himself, and the parchment was preserved for that reason. Fingon and Maedhros saved their correspondence with each other, and both letters eventually made their way to Elrond Peredhel's library in Rivendell. Bringing these letters together was therefore a work of some years, and I am grateful to my colleagues at the Archives who supported me in bringing this project to fruition.
Hithaeril of Dol Amroth
Second Assistant Archivist, Royal Gondorian Archives
written the 17th of Nórui in the 196th year of the Fourth Age.
Translator's Preface to the English Edition
Why study the First Age?
When Hithaeril of Dol Amroth published the first edition of Letters from Himring, Sindarin was still widely spoken in the Reunited Kingdom, and Quenya, although not in day-to-day use, was an essential part of any literary education. For the descendants of Númenor, the answer to the question was simple: It was their history. The Edain who fought alongside the Eldar were their ancestors, and the memory of the First Age was alive in their customs and stories.
For us, for whom even Gondor and Arnor are dim memories out of the ancient past, the question is harder to answer. Some will say the First Age is far too remote to be relevant to our modern lives. The bloody deeds of strange people with strange names, who lived millennia ago on a continent that no longer exists – certainly, any claim of direct relevance is difficult to make. Enrollment figures at every major university bear this out: Students crowd into classrooms to study Spanish, Arabic, and Chinese, while courses in Sindarin and Quenya are cut for lack of interest. There are some who contend that the study of First Age history has immense relevance for our current political climate, and they may be right – who can say?[1] But when we speak only of contemporary relevance, we are asking the wrong questions.
Reading poetry may help us develop analytical skills we apply in other contexts, but that is not why we read poetry; we read because it moves us. In the same way, studying the First Age may help us understand our own time, but the tales of Beleriand have their own value as well.
It is easy to forget that these figures – Maedhros, Fëanor, Elwing, Eärendil, and all the rest – are not mere moral exempla. This is the greatest value of Hithaeril's work. In these letters, we see ordinary concerns, and understand that the great names of a bygone Age were no more and no less than any one of us.
Notes on the Translation
The English edition includes a set of letters chosen from Hithaeril's collection, accompanied by a translation of her original commentary, as well as occasional translator's notes (marked as such and italicized) that reflect scholarly developments from the intervening Ages since Letters from Himring was originally published. This edition also features illustrations of life in Himring by Fandom_fun13, another modern scholar of the First Age.
I attempted to preserve in translation the unique lámatyávë[2] of each letter's author; inevitably, I have failed. How can I convey, in English, Fingon's marked preference for bright vowels, or Maglor's fondness for assonance? I hope, nevertheless, that the character of each author shows through.
When translating poetry, I have rendered Sindarin or Quenya into English verse forms, following the custom established by well-known translators such as Bilbo Baggins and J.R.R. Tolkien. Note also that the Sindarin forms of placenames have been used in the English translations of both Sindarin and Quenya passages.
A letter from Maedhros, lord of Himring, to Prince Fingon, dated the 14th day of Laer[3] in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Findekáno,[4] best-beloved Cousin,
I ought to protest at how ill-advised it is for both the High King and his heir[5] to undertake the journey to Himring. Ought to, but shall not, for I am too selfishly glad at the prospect of seeing you again.
Take great care on your journey, as we have rather a surplus of orcs in the March at the moment. Two days ago, we intercepted a group attempting to cross Little Gelion. The captives we took, though at first unwilling to speak, revealed in the end they were making for Hithlum; it would not surprise me if their masters had sent others by another route, though these wretches knew nothing if so. My scouts patrol incessantly, but even the highest vigilance may fail – as you have better cause than most to know, you who crept into Angband and stole Morgoth's prisoner from under his very nose! Ah, I know you mislike my worrying – and certainly you should never think I doubt you are capable – but how can I keep from worrying for one so dear to me?
I hope you will give me more news from Hithlum – I am always hungry for tidings. As for Himring, the repairs to the drainage systems I wrote of before are now complete, so you may rest assured that, whatever the weather brings during your visit, it will at least be dry inside. I would rather have used copper pipes for the whole of it instead of supplementing with clay, but our resources are regrettably stretched thin; I mislike how reliant we are on trade with the Dwarves for copper and iron ores. (And I would that lead were not so unwholesome! Another reason to curse Morgoth,[6] for lead would otherwise be best suited to the work.[7]) The clay is functional, certainly, but will not last even half a yén[8] before needing to be replaced – but then, half a yén from now we may all be dead, and all Beleriand swallowed up by Angband.
Enough! I shall not bore you with more accounts of drainpipes. You will surely ask, and so I shall spare you the wondering: I am well – or if not well, at least well enough. If the pain is no better than it was when last I saw you, still it is no worse, and I am not hampered overmuch. (Indeed, I look forward to giving you a challenge on the practice fields!) But I know that is not, perhaps, all that you fear.
Rest assured: Though you found me in a place beyond hope, you brought me back, and I dwell there no longer. Darkness endures, but still the Sun shines, and the Stars are fair; and on most days I can hope for an end to the darkness, as once I never could. You need not fear for me.
Ever yours,
Russandol
An unsigned document in an unknown hand, dated the 14th day of Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Prisoner A:
longsword
dagger
1 skin orc-draught
3 packets dried meat (unidentified, possibly elven)
chainmail shirt
quilted tunic of Doriathrim design – likely pillaged on the battlefield
loincloth
leather boots
Prisoner B:
short sword (straight)
1 skin orc-draught
1 packet dried meat
hide breastplate
loincloth
Prisoner C:
short sword (curved)
dagger
1 skin orc-draught, mostly empty
2 packets dried meat
hide breastplate
loincloth
leather sandals
(Note: C had been freshly wounded some two or three days before the battle. Perhaps a run-in with the Avari? Or merely orcish infighting.)
A seems to have been a captain of some sort. Based on the soldiers' descriptions of the other orcs, I suspect A was in command of this group. None had any information about other planned attacks. Foolish wretches didn't even realize they'd been sent to their deaths, regardless of whether they made it to Hithlum.
I will discard the prisoners' effects, with your permission. Nothing here of use.
A letter from Halwen[9] of Himring to her sister Díneloth, dated the 15th day of Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Dearest sister,
You asked for my impressions of my new lord. Well, I do not know that I can tell you much – I am hardly privy to his confidences.
He is called "the Tall," and rightly so, for he overtops me by half a head – and I am not named falsely![10] In expression he is most severe, and he laughs but rarely: always the shadow of his torment is on him, and not in scars alone. His own people find this troubling, I think, though we who are accustomed to life touched by the Enemy's curst hand do not.
In truth, when I hear the Noldor speak of Valinor – a land of plenty, where few suffer and no hurt goes without succor, where the great Powers, save for one, make their abode and give assurance of their aid in time of need – I wish at times our forebears had not refused the call of Oromë. Why would these Noldor, whose lives were such that scars are unfamiliar, come to marred Beleriand?
And yet, for all that it will surely be my death, I cannot regret our ancestors' choice. Ilúvatar made us for this Middle-earth. Did we not awaken at Cuiviénen, under the light of Elbereth's stars? It was not in Valinor, however fair, that the Quendi first drew breath; nor is it for Aman that our hearts are made.[11] Even these Noldor, who dwelt in Treelight all their lives, found their spirits longing for Beleriand's wild forests, its hidden pools, its dark skies set with stars.
But I have neither time nor parchment enough for such thoughts. You asked how we fare at Himring, and especially about my lord Maedhros, and I shall strive to confine myself to tidings rather than musings.
Accustomed as I am to a talan,[12] with living branches for ceiling and walls, I must confess that Himring seems to me unlovely. At first, I thought the Noldor lived within stone walls only out of necessity; the exigencies of the war against the Morgoth make such defensive architecture practical. But since coming here I have learned it is their preference to make dwellings of carven stone above all else, for they did so even in Aman. I have been informed, though, that Himring lacks beauty even by the standards of the Noldor – my new friends plainly did not wish me to think this the pinnacle of their art!
The fortress is squat and gray, with slits for windows in its thick walls. There are no trees for miles around, nor green meadows, only rocky scrubland in the warmer months and, in the winter, snow. The hill of Himring is steep and rocky, what might be called a mountain, though it is nothing in comparison with the Thangorodrim, who ever stand as a shadow to the north. It is nothing like the shady forests I love so dearly – and yet, there is a desolate kind of beauty here. A strange place, perhaps, to our sensibilities, but one where I am content enough to dwell and be a part of this bulwark against the Enemy.
As I said, I have no knowledge of my lord M.'s private thoughts, but in recent weeks I have spent no little time in his company. He is keenly interested in our people's knowledge of the spear.[13] The Noldor fight primarily with sword or bow. A sword is all well and good if you and your enemy are both on foot, or you are mounted, but if your enemy is mounted and you are not, all but the most skilled of swordsmen may be overcome with ease. And in Himring, where there is little pasture, the cavalry is the smallest part of our forces. The spear will let our infantry stand against a cavalry charge – or at least, such is my lord's hope. And I do not believe that hope unfounded.
Five days ago, our scouts brought word of a band of orcs approaching Himring from the northeast. We have not enough horses to mount a cavalry of any significant size, and of the horses we took with us most were not trained for war, taken only for speed, and would scatter at the scent of warg. Besides, many of us Green-elves – myself not excepted – are not yet used to fighting from horseback. So, lord M.'s plan relied chiefly on infantry.
I did not have the chance to watch lord M. fight at the Dagor Aglareb; although I fought with his forces, I was not right beside him. Still, I thought I knew his manner in battle from the practice yards. I was wrong.
Never have I seen an elf fight so fiercely! His sword flashed like cold fire, and when I met his eyes, I saw therein a leaping flame. The orcs fled before him, some running right onto the tips of our spears.
We took three captives back to Himring; they revealed in the end that they were making for Hithlum and had thought to pass through the March unnoticed. Foolish – the vigilance of Himring's scouts is rightly renowned throughout Beleriand!
I will send this letter with the next caravan, so I do not know how soon it will reach you. Give Grandmother my love.
With love,
Halwen
A letter from Maedhros, lord of Himring, to his brother Maglor, lord of the Gap, tentatively dated to the first half of Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Makalaurë –
Please, prepare some suitable collection of songs for the feast – not the Noldolantë, I beg you, not even if it is your masterpiece! You know our uncle's taste.
Findekáno will be invited to perform as well – perhaps you could sing a duet?
A note from the private papers of Maglor, lord of the Gap, tentatively dated to mid-Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Starlight on the Sea – perhaps best to avoid sea-songs
Battle-song of Makar
Dagor Aglareb – rewrite verse 8 to emphasize Nolofinwëan valor
Dust in the Wind
Nienna's Lament
The Fern-Flower[14] – would be funny to see Nelyo's face, but alas! unsuited to the occasion
Tree of Silver, Tree of Gold
Dwelling of the Sun at Dawn
We Slay the Beast
Ballad of Love and Hate
The Wild Hunt
Under the Stars We Awoke
Findekáno may pick whatever soppy, sentimental Valinorean ballad he wishes for our duet – Nelyo and his folk will lap it up, even if he sings out of key. All his favorites have the same chord progression anyway, so harmonization will hardly be difficult.
A note from Maedhros, lord of Himring, to Tuilindil,[15] steward of Himring, tentatively dated to mid-Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Tuilindil –
The High King will occupy my chamber for the duration of his visit to Himring. See to it that the hangings are changed for something rather finer, and bring fresh bedding and fresh rushes as well. Let us give my lord uncle what comfort Himring possesses, and show him we are not uncivilized, here on the cold edge of Noldorin lands. The third room in the northeast corridor, the one often given to Maglor when he visits, will be mine instead.
Tell Bamellon to suggest whatever dishes strike his fancy for the feast, and to send me a list with the proposal.
–M
A note from Bamellon of Himring to Maedhros, lord of Himring, tentatively dated to mid-Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
My lord,
Here is my proposal for the High King's welcome feast:
I understand lord Maglor will sing between the courses?
Written on the same sheet of parchment, in Maedhros' hand:
Good overall, although I am a little concerned about the almonds: Do not strain our resources to produce a mere echo of Valinor. Let us have a feast that emphasizes the foodstuffs common here in the March, though we might not have served them at a feast in Tirion.
As for the honey cakes, Prince Fingon has a particular fondness for blueberries, which I trust can be accommodated – it is certainly the right time of year.
–M
A letter from Prince Fingon to Maedhros, lord of Himring, dated the 28th day of Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Beloved Russandol,[16]
I am not bored by your work – I am always glad to hear what you do! For when I think of you, I like to picture what you may be doing, and I wish to hear every detail of your days so I may picture you better. Thus, when I break my fast with oatmeal in Hithlum I may think of you, and know you are eating boiled buckwheat, as you have told me your folk do in Himring. I beg you: Tell me more of drainpipes, and beet-fields, and whatever else occupies your time. And when I come with my father, you must show me every part of Himring, so that you can write, "Today I stood by the cabbage patch in the kitchen garden and watched the Sun rise," and I will see you in my mind's eye as clearly as if I stood there beside you.
Things go well with us in Hithlum. The grass in Dor-Lómin is still fresh and green from the rains, and everywhere you look there are herds of sheep; their wool has had time to grow again after the shearing season, and it is as if clouds have left the sky and come to dwell on the ground. There was a sighting of a warg reported a few days ago, but it proved to be only an ordinary wolf.
Our scouts have seen no sign of enemies (besides the would-be warg), but we heed your warning and remain watchful. I would ask how it was you persuaded your captives to talk, but I fear I would not wish to know the answer. Ai, Russandol, you know I am grateful – we are all grateful – for the tireless watch you keep at Himring. And yet –
It seems to me there are two ways to lose a war. One may be destroyed by one's enemy; or one may destroy one's enemy, and in doing so change oneself so utterly that the former self has been destroyed. What is victory, for us? Is it to destroy Morgoth, or to endure as Quendi returned to Beleriand? Sometimes I no longer know. But I am weary: my pen is heavy, and my heart misgives. I will write no more on this tonight. You say you are well, and until I see you with my own eyes that must be enough.
I am glad you did not waste parchment telling me I should not come to Himring with my father, for you surely knew I would never heed you. We set out in three days, so by the time you have this letter, its writer will be nearing your gate. Ready yourself to be embraced!
Yours always,
Findekáno
Excerpted from a letter from Collas[17] of Hithlum to Haldamir, likewise of Hithlum, dated the 41st day of Laer in the 62nd year of the Sun:
Truly, I was nervous about coming to Himring. Not the journey, with the slim prospect of encountering a band of orcs; no, it was arriving that worried me. I had heard tales – as have you – of the fearsome sons of Fëanor. And what little I had seen of lord Maedhros, on those occasions he visited Hithlum to take counsel with the King, did not reassure me, for he seemed always very grim.
As we approached Himring yestermorn, Prince Fingon rode ahead. By the time I was through the great gate, the prince had already dismounted and thrown his arms around Maedhros. Everyone has heard, of course, that Maedhros and Prince Fingon were great friends, and I was always surprised by this, for are not friends usually alike, as you and I are? And Prince Fingon is not grim in the slightest. Well, I could not see the prince's face, but Maedhros did not look grim at all.
Notes
[1] See Lee, "Spirits of Fire: Fëanor as a Model for the Modern Demagogue," First Age Studies vol. 146 (2018).
[2] Translator's note: One's lámatyávë is one's individual linguistic preferences or manner of speaking; literally "sound-taste."
[3] Translator's note: Laer (Q: Lairë) is the second season of the common Elven calendar. It is 72 days long and stretches from approximately mid-May to late July of the Gregorian calendar.
[4] Although Thingol would not seek to restrict the use of Quenya in Beleriand until several years later, at the time this letter was written the Noldor had already begun to use Sindarin in official communications. One reason for this was logistical: Chroniclers of the time tell us that it was easier for Noldor, as native speakers of Quenya, to learn Sindarin than for Sindarin speakers to learn Quenya, and many Sindar and Avari had taken up service with Noldorin lords or were otherwise closely entwined with Noldorin society in Beleriand. Many scholars suggest that there was also a philosophical component to the adoption of Sindarin by the Beleriandic Noldor, claiming that Sindarin was viewed as the language of Beleriand, while Quenya was seen in some sense as a language of Aman. Use of Sindarin was therefore a way for the Beleriandic Noldor to express their politico-philosophical commitment to life in Beleriand as opposed to Valinor.
This letter, however, is in Quenya, and Maedhros addresses Fingon by his Quenya ataressë. Along with the content and tone of the letter, the choice of language underscores the personal rather than official nature of the communication. Maedhros almost certainly intended the letter to be read by no one save Fingon.
[5] Maedhros' explicit reference to Fingon as Fingolfin's heir in this letter ought to go a long way toward resolving an enduring debate among historians of the Noldor in the First Age: Although the majority of scholars hold that Maedhros' stated justification for ceding the High Kingship to Fingolfin, i.e., that Fingolfin was the eldest living descendant of Finwë, was mere pretext and that it was generally understood that the line of Fëanor had been passed over in its entirety and the Kingship would pass by primogeniture in the line of Fingolfin, certain scholars of this period have long advanced the theory that Maedhros genuinely intended to substitute seniority for primogeniture in the law of inheritance. By that minority theory, Fingon would have been a usurper when he assumed the kingship following the Dagor Bragollach; Maedhros, as the next oldest descendant of Finwë in Beleriand following Fingolfin, ought to have been Fingolfin's heir. That Maedhros calls Fingon Fingolfin's heir in this letter should settle this debate once and for all. It is ironclad evidence that Maedhros, even at so early a date, considered Fingon Fingolfin's heir, although Fingon was younger than both Maedhros and Maglor. Arguments to the contrary are chiefly based on a single letter written by Curufin Fëanorion to his brother Caranthir shortly after Fingolfin's coronation; the bias of that source hardly needs to be pointed out.
[6] Noldorin authors of this period tended to ascribe unfavorable aspects of Arda to corruption by Morgoth, including all poisonous things and all forms of decay; the latter may have accounted for the Noldor's noted aversion to mushrooms.
[7] Translator's note: The dangers of lead poisoning were evidently well known to the Noldor in the First Age, and Hithaeril's comment suggests lead was known to be dangerous in the Fourth Age, as well. If only that knowledge had not been lost, countless lives might have been saved across human history – by the Roman period, lead (Latin: plumbum) was so universally used for pipes that it gave its name to the English word plumbing.
[8] 144 solar years.
[9] Halwen the Spearwoman was a Avarin elf who joined the service of Maedhros shortly before the Dagor Aglareb. She fought in Maedhros' forces at both the Dagor Bragollach and the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but it is unclear whether she participated in the Fëanorian attack on Doriath. At some point prior to the assault on Sirion she broke ties with the Fëanorians, and she was killed fighting to defend the Havens from her former lord.
A poetic account of the battle, written by a refugee from Sirion, recounts that Maedhros slew her himself:
…In Maedhros' path, upon the sward,
With oaken shaft in steady hand,
Stood Halwen, who had been his guard,
And sworn to fight at his command.
"You are forsworn!" he cried, full wroth,
And drove his sword into her side.
"Better by far to break my oath"
"Than slay my kin," she said, and died…
But this is otherwise unattested and, as the poet elsewhere takes considerable liberties with historical fact, his account is not dispositive.
[10] Evidently Halwen ("tall maiden") is an epessë.
[11] This was a point of some contention among Elven philosophers. The vast majority of the Eldar have now sailed westward to Valinor, including those of Avarin or Sindarin descent; Elven writers describe the "sea-longing", a growing desire to sail that in time becomes intolerable. The hearts of the Eldar, then, we may think are inclined to the West – and yet there is no suggestion that any among the Eldar experienced this longing in the First or Second Ages of the Sun. Some have argued that the decision of the forebears of the Calaquendi to follow Oromë from Cuiviénen to Valinor was the manifestation of this sea-longing, but most scholars and loremasters disagree.
[12] Like many other elements of a traditional Silvan lifestyle, telain (Eng.: flets) – open platforms built around the trunks of trees – were adopted by the inhabitants of Lothlórien in the Second Age; the Doriathrim also built telain, although they were not their primary dwellings.
[13] Gil-Galad, of all Noldorin kings in Middle-earth the last and most renowned, fought with the great spear known as Aeglos (Eng.: Snow-Point). See "The Fall of Gil-Galad" (Baggins translation):
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
His shining helm afar was seen;
The countless stars of heaven's field
Were mirrored in his silver shield.
This and other documents preserved from the First Age suggest that spear-fighting was originally an Avarin art, taken up by the Noldor only after their return to Beleriand. Gil-Galad himself, of course, was raised largely by Sindar, which may explain his ready adoption of a less traditional weapon by Noldorin standards.
[14] "The Fern-Flower" is a comedic song of Silvan origin, mainly composed of sexual innuendo. Ferns, of course, do not flower; in the song, an elleth convinces her (fairly dimwitted) would-be lover to go into the woods with her in search of a magical fern blossom:
…He followed her among the trees,
To sheltered glade near babbling brook;
She hiked her skirt up past her knees,
Then bade him for the fern-flower look,
And as the blossoms from the bees,
So she from him her pleasure took…
Translator's Note: There is a Baltic folkloric tradition of a magical fern flower that blooms on Midsummer eve. Young couples go into the woods "seeking the fern flower." Could this tradition be an echo of elven lore? The question may bear investigation by anthropologists. Certainly, other elements of Baltic folk traditions seem to mirror elven custom, most notably the use of the eight-pointed star – the mark of the house of Fëanor – to symbolize the Dawn Star, whose light is that of the Silmaril born by Eärendil.
[15] Tuilindil was steward of Himring from before the Dagor Aglareb until their death in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
[16] This is an extremely familiar form of address: Russandol (Eng.: Coppertop) is Maedhros' Quenya epessë. Maedhros seems to have been fond of the name, as the -ros element in his chosen Sindarin name Maedhros is from the Rus- element in Russandol. Maedhros' choice to create a new name in Sindarin rather than simply translate or transliterate his Quenya ataressë (Nelyafinwë) or amilessë (Maitimo) was unusual, but understandable. The scholarly consensus is that Fëanor named his firstborn Nelyafinwë – literally Third Finwë –to imply that Fingolfin and Finarfin, the sons of Finwë and Indis, were not truly members of Finwë's House; given the delicate political situation between the Fëanorians and Nolofinweans, it is easy to understand why Maedhros did not take a form of his ataressë as his Sindarin name. But Maitimo – Well-Shaped – lacks those political implications. Why did Maedhros not use a Sindarin form of his amilessë, as was used for all his brothers save Curufin? Some have suggested that the possible Sindarin forms of Maitimo were simply not appealing to Maedhros' lámatyávë; others have argued that, after decades of torment in Angband, Maedhros no longer considered Well-Shaped an apt descriptor. Ultimately, only Maedhros himself knew the reason for his decision, and he did not do future scholars the courtesy of writing it down.
[17] A member of Fingolfin's household, Collas was one of the first Noldor born in Beleriand following the return from Valinor. He would go on to serve with distinction in the Dagor Bragollach, after which he became a member of then-High King Fingon's personal guard. He perished alongside his lord in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.