Exploring Westernesse [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

The Eagle Guard

"Eagle Guard?" asked Míril excitedly. "What is the Eagle Guard?"

"Only the finest warriors in all of Valinor and Middle Earth!" Fingon revealed to them quickly. "10,000 strong at all times. Made up of Teleri, Sindar, Vanyar, and Noldor together, led by Eonwë, herald of Manwë."

"We had the privilege of being trained by one of them?" breathed Míril in surprise as she looked fondly and in awe upon Glorfindel.

"Yes," he bowed with a smile. "I have been a member of the Guard for many a millennia. And it was my honor to train the house of Elrond and their companions."

"I should like to meet Lord Eonwë," Míril decided aloud.

Glorfindel nodded with a smirk. "He is quite looking forward to meeting two of you. Míril, you are one of them."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged worried and curious glances. Míril chuckled at her friends' plight and turned back to the elven warriors as the twins began bickering with one another.

Haldanáro spoke up with a smile, distracting them. "Glorfindel jests, friends! But I warn you, do not start a story with Eonwë and expect to finish in less than several hours. He asks many questions."

Carmegil snorted. "Truer words were never spoken in Arda." He took a sip of the red wine he held.

The trio hadn't realized the others had disappeared until they returned bearing wine goblets.

"Come let us a drink a little," Fingon grinned as he raised his cup to the sky. "A toast, to those we've lost."

Everyone held up their cups to the sky and they shared an intense moment of silence. The Telerin Haldanáro thought of his friends, slaughtered at the beaches and docks of Alqualondë, Glorfindel made only thought to his other companion, Ecthelion, one time Eagle Guard member. The other Noldor had only minds for their family members, long awaiting release from the Halls. Míril's mind went to her children.

At last they sat, all at the table to enjoy themselves. A young elf brought over some sweets for them to nibble on as they talked. Before long however, Míril grew weary. All the talk of battles did two things to her. On the one hand, she thirsted to have a sword in her grasp again. She wanted to practice her swordplay desperately. But on the other, it made her weary and sad. It reminded her of all she had lost.

She remembered many years ago, nearly forty years back, something Maglor had said to her.

"Do you know what I hear when I listen to these crashing waves?"

Míril shrugged. "Music? Voices? That is what comes to my mind."

He gave a bitterly rueful half smile. "That is because you are pure- for now."

He turned to her swiftly, a fierce expression on his face. "No, Míril Fëanoriel! When I hear the waves, I hear the screams of dying children, the cries of wounded mothers. I see in my mind the blood that I spilled because of my vengeance. I blocked it out at the time, made myself strong with my anger. But afterwards, it rushes in just like these waves. It consumes you!"

Míril took a step back from him. She saw in his eyes a pain that she hoped to never see again. It frightened her. *

While Míril hadn't committed the treasonous acts that Maglor once had, she was tired of death. She was haunted by the hate filled eyes of her youngest daughter, and her mind would not allow her to forget the pain.

When her mind finally wandered back to the conversation, she found Calmegil telling a story about his own part in the War of the Ring.

"I told Nimwing to hurry up and help me. Youths these days. Always need poking and prodding," he shook his head, taking another drink. "We managed to get to the Elvenking in time and banished Khamûl from Mirkwood. Not sure where he ended up though."

Míril felt a smile tugging at her lips at the irony. "He ended up fighting me!"

Carmegil also smirked. "Is that so? Well, I'm glad you did away with him."

"You can thank Elrohir for that one," Míril shrugged. "Khamûl almost killed me in my rage."

They continued to talk for another hour. When at last there were but a couple hours before dawn, the half elves retired to bed to grab just a few hours' sleep. They bitterly said goodbye, not wanting to leave the joyous hall. It had been a wonderful night.

A/N: * Flashback from The Other Ranger: Chapter 89: Cannot or Will Not