– Fan Fiction by M.C. Beard, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s Silmarillion –
Elenyë did not fall with her husband, Salgrin, in the last battle of the Second Age with Sauron; neither did she return from the borders of Dagorlad.
Together, Elenyë and Salgrin rose with Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor, when Sauron invaded Eriador, when Celebrimbor called for aid. They came with Gil-galad and the Nùmenórean Elendil to confront the dark host driven by Sauron’s cruelty. Together, they fought upon fields too many to number and across leagues too many to count.
Elenyë and Salgrin refused to lose hope upon the banks of the River Lhûn when further aid from Nùmenór was delayed those many months. Together they endured five years of Sauron’s accursed horde until Ciryatur brought his Nùmenóreans to shore, eager for battle, and turned the tide. They rejoiced when Sauron suffered further defeat at Sarn Ford on the Baranduin, and they pursued him in his withdrawal. Gil-galad and Elendil commended the valiant pair with a dozen elves and ten Nûmenóreans to ensure Sauron’s retreat from Eriador while they would follow swiftly with the main host after them.
At the sight of Elenyë and Salgrin fast in pursuit, Sauron fled across the Isen. There he devised a trap to cast off his pursuers, but Sauron was thwarted yet again, caught in eastern Calenardhon. To Elenyë’s bitter sorrow, it was here that Salgrin fell. Salgrin stumbled upon a loose stone, and Sauron brought down upon him a heavy halberd. Before he could strike a second time, Elenyë threw herself and her shield between Sauron and Salgrin, repelling the Dark One’s crushing blow.
With all she knew of Noldor wisdom and lore, Elenyë pressed back Sauron’s advance. All that remained of Sauron’s forces were slain, and only his bodyguard lingered. Sauron, held fast by the strength of her will and her summoning of Noldor magic, was cast down once more.
Elenyë bent to her husband and placed a hand upon his cheek. She mingled her breath with his until his painful gasps eased into contented sighs. She whispered grace for his journey to Valinor, then rose to face Sauron.
“Dagorlad lies upon your heels,” she said. “I banish you thence. Go.”
“Banish?” Sauron mocked. “You leave Gil-galad’s mission undone?”
“No, it is done. Your designs are sundered. Get thee gone.”
“But you have the advantage, Elenyë of the Noldor. Come, bring a true end if you dare.”
“You comprehend neither strength nor power, Sauron, even though you have grasped at them since you were servant to Morgoth. He did not comprehend them either.”
“Show me then what is power.”
“It is not mine to show, but hear you this. It is not a matter of might, of strength of arm or subjugation of land and control of the people of Arda. I and all the elves, the valiant men of Nûmenór, and any of those with good heart, strength and might stand to confront and challenge the darkness you would bring. That is strength, but it is not true and final power. It is ours to contest you in your designs, but it is not ours to wield the power you envision. If you were to win the day and crush again the lands and people of Arda, or if, as today, those of good heart and mind defeat your arms and your plans and your schemes, all of Arda would wait for yet others of strength to take our place.”
“That is the nature of the world.”
“It shall be perceived thus until that which is true and pure defeats the one of dark might and strength. When what is simple and humble destroys you, all Arda will know the nature of true strength. Until then, you will be opposed and thwarted, but you must wait, unknowing, until your final overthrow shall be made.”
Sauron sought to move against Elenyë, but all this while she stood with her arm extended over the shielded form of Salgrin. He could not cast off her will.
“The way for you lies behind, to Dagorlad. You shall go thither, Dark One, and be gone.”
Sauron looked at Salgrin. “You cannot always stand thus and protect him.”
“I know your evil, Sauron. You shall not have his body. The summoning of the Noldor’s skill was with purpose. Here I shall stand, unmoved, age to age, until the day of which I spoke. On that day, I will join Salgrin in Valinor.”
Sauron departed, and already Elenyë’s feet and legs were rooting as a mighty tree around the form of Salgrin. Gil-galad and Elendil’s army caught up with the delayed Sauron and pursued him into Dagorlad, besieging him within Barad-dûr for seven years. There Sauron’s ring was cut from his finger by Isildur, but Elenyë knew the Dark One’s power was not at an end.
And so she remained through the last years of the Second Age and into the Third. Her rooting into the earth gave her ears to hear the many changes upon the world. She sadly but understandably knew of the elves’ retreat and near seclusion. With interest she learned of the works of Nûmenóreans to build kingdoms. She witnessed the excitement of Arda’s creatures as Gandalf passed through the land and the Watchful Peace began, lasting three thousand years.
All the while, Elenyë stood, arm outstretched, shield unmoved, knowing that Sauron was not idle. He never returned to the place where she held him at bay, yet she did not move from where Salgrin lay buried. Only one seemed to know she was there, the peculiar Tom Bombadil on one of his jaunts through the land. He paused to look at her curiously, smiled and was gone, occupied with his own distractions.
The Watchful Peace ended when Sauron formed his alliances with Easterlings, filled his borders with Orcs and foul creatures, and sought to establish his darkness over all of Arda yet again. But from her lonely stand, Elenyë had also heard the gentle, happy steps of folk who had established themselves in Buckland. They called themselves Hobbits, and she delighted in them, rejoicing when Gandalf took a liking to them. She heard of the defeat of Smaug and the part played by little Bilbo, so when Sauron’s attention turned to the Shire and news reached her of Frodo’s departure from Rivendell with a company of travelers, she allowed hope for the small and the simple to fill her stalwart heart.
Elenyë stood firm when the armies of Sauron began to move. Her resolve was unshaken when Nazgul roamed the earth, searching for the One Ring. She was rigid with purpose when the fires of Mordor painted the skies dark and red. She held firm her shield, unmoved when the earth quaked under Sauron’s anger. Her grasp was steady when the last army of men and elves with Aragorn and Gandalf marched to Mordor’s fiery battlements.
When Frodo and Samwise ascended Orodruin, Elenyë heard the quiet tidings with joy. She knew suffering and hardship abounded, but she embraced hope when Sauron’s eye continued to sweep over them, unaware of their approach.
Then the ring was gone, destroyed. Sauron fell from Barad-dûr as Elenyë stood with her shield over Salgrin. She called to her embers from the crumbling tower and let them signal victory and sober memorial by burning her shield over Salgrin’s grave. And when the gates of Mordor fell, she let it go, free at last. In Valinor she allowed her arms to rest in the embrace of Salgrin.
