Chapter Text
Everyone who had followed him in exile, knew that Nelyafinwë had chosen the unfamiliar north of Valinor to get as much distance between himself and anyone who might aim to catch him and return him to the kingdom of Tirion, for as a wanted refugee with a high reward on his head, the general would be hunted unless he found a really good hiding place.
And that hiding place he chose, was here in northern Valinor, where no kings ruled over large areas of land or where a large group of population obeying a simple ruler.
This first autumn in exile, they worked to create log cabins so they had somewhere to live in for the coming winter, for the native Silvan and Avari tribes had warned about that unless they started to prepare food and houses already now, the newcomers would soon starve and freeze during the cold season.
“We may not be able to sow anything of our grains until spring, but creating fields and pasture land for livestock is a good start.”
Since their arrival, Nelyafinwë had started to show some of his old personality again. He helped to plan what to do, tried to find solutions to fights that could happen between settlers. For anyone who had feared for his mental health after his long time as a prisoner, there seemed to be some form of hope.
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Trade was a important part between the setters and the local people, for while Nelyafinwë and his soldiers kept their part of the agreement to keep a eye out for possible slave traders coming from the south, they still needed foodstuff which could not be collected or harvested directly from nature around them.
“We need to ensure that we can save enough grain to sow in spring, or we will not get enough of a harvest to survive next year.”
Flour, for example. The expression “Our daily bread” did have its ground in reality, after all, their stone carvers worked full time to create smaller, manually operated millstones so that the women could grind grain to flour at home until they could build a water mill powered by a water wheel.
Among those from the local tribes who sometimes arrived to make trade, was a young woman in her 20s who stood out by the fine embroidery on her clothes, thought she did not stand out in any other way. Her goods were embroidered shawls, hats and mittens to wear during the winter months to keep warm.
“That young lady with the fine embroidery on her dress...who is she?”
Tata had came along the group to ensure that nothing happened, and he could tell why Nelyafinwë had seen her as well.
“Her name is Þerindë, which means “Broideress” in our language. A daughter of a maternal line famed for being skilled weavers and seamstresses, though she was widowed not even a year after the wedding and she have no child as a memory of that first husband.”
In a sense, that matched what Nelyafinwë liked in his previous mistresses too. He had never wanted to deal with a jealous husband over a woman, or a female lover who cheated on her husband simply because she found him more attractive. A widow also had more freedom, if there was no children from her marriage to take care of. Not all children liked the idea of a strange replacing a parent, if said dead parents had been someone they loved dearly.
“Miss Þerindë.”
Since she had some of her goods laid out on a blanket, no one found it strange that the general took a look what she offered in trade. Although he had mostly taken it as a keepsake from his maternal relatives, Nelyafinwë chose to offer her a plain steel thimble as payment for two pairs of mittens. Just because he only had one hand nowadays it did not mean that he intended to play half of a price. When Þerindë were told what it was and shown how she could use it, her face shone up in wonder.
“Better to keep an eye on the general, he have not had a woman sharing his bed for a couple of months now…”
Of course, his soldiers all knew that Nelyafinwë were not a womanizer, he simply had never been the type for marriage, that was all. No one were surprised that if there was someone among the local women who caught his eye, he would make a good choice not in appearance but rather personality.
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In the first months of 1498, Tata called Þerindë to his hut for a talk in the main Tatyar winter camp.
“You have caught the eye of the tall, red haired leader of the newcomers, from what many have witnessed. As they have proven their words so far and chased away slave traders from those regions where we otherwise would risk losing members of the tribes to slavery in the south, I would like to reward the leader for his help so far. A deeper alliance.”
Þerindë knew what he meant. It was not uncommon to trade young men or women between the tribes, to bring in fresh blood and avoid inbreeding, along with marriages to bring peace. As a young widow, she would be ideal since she knew what happened between a couple in bed and also were still young to become pregnant if the ancestors allowed it.
“Please give me some months to guide him into love and then I will try to make an alliance between us in marriage.”
Personally, she did find Nelyafinwë good-looking to rest the eyes on, despite all his scars and the loss of one hand. His former physically handsomeness may be gone, but she hailed from a lifestyle where body scars proved survival of death, not the loss of appearance.
When she left the hut to return to the one owned by her parents, she heard a wolf howl in the distance. Expect for that it sounded more like a human.
“Amarok! Amarok, get back to the camp, it is freezing cold outside!” Þerindë called, knowing that it was a slightly younger woman from a different tribe, who has gotten her mind almost caught into that of a she-wolf during a shamanic ritual as a toddler and the shamans had not been able to fully free her from the wolf spirit. Therefore, Amarok were infamous for showing some of the behavior among wolves at times, which made her unfit for marriage since no husband wanted to wake up in the middle of the night and find her standing above them with her teeth bared like a wolf.
But Þerindë felt pity for the other woman, and tried her best to help her when it was needed. The young widow only hoped that Nelyafinwë would allow her to keep doing a such act of compassion if she won his heart.