Now the Noldoli alone at those times had the art of fashioning these beautiful things, and despite their rich gifts to all whom they loved the treasure they possessed of them was beyond count the greatest, wherefore Melko whenever he may consorteth with them, speaking cunning words. In this way for long he sought to beg gifts of jewels for himself, and maybe also catching the unwary to learn something of their hidden art, but when none of these devices succeeded he sought to sow evil desires and discords among the Gnomes, telling them that lie concerning the Council when the Eldar were first bidden to Valinor.1 “Slaves are ye,” he would say, “or children, an you will, bidden play with toys and seek not to stray or know too much. Good days mayhap the Valar give you, as ye say; seek but to cross their walls and ye shall know the hardness of their hearts. Lo, they use your skill, and to your beauty they hold fast as an adornment of their realms. This is not love, but selfish desire—make test of it. Ask for your inheritance that Ilúvatar designed for you—the whole wide world to roam, with all its mysteries to explore, and all its substances to be material of such mighty crafts as never can be realised in these narrow gardens penned by the mountains, hemmed in by the impassable sea.”
Hearing these things, despite the true knowledge which Nólemë had and spread abroad, there were many who hearkened with half their hearts to Melko, and restlessness grew amongst them, and Melko poured oil on their smouldering desires. From him they learnt many things it were not good for any but the great Valar to know, for being half-comprehended such deep and hidden things slay happiness; and besides many of the sayings of Melko were cunning lies or were but partly true, and the Noldoli ceased to sing, and their viols fell silent upon the hill of Kôr, for their hearts grew somewhat older as their lore grew deeper and their desires more swollen, and the books of their wisdom were multiplied as the leaves of the forest. For know that in those days Aulë aided by the Gnomes contrived alphabets and scripts, and on the walls of Kôr were many dark tales written in pictured symbols, and runes of great beauty were drawn there too or carved upon stones, and Eärendel read many a wondrous tale there long ago, and mayhap still is many a one still there to read, if it be not corrupted into dust. The other Elves heeded these things not over much, and were at times sad and fearful at the lessened gladness of their kinsmen. Great mirth had Melko at this and wrought in patience biding his time, yet no nearer did he get to his end, for despite all his labours the glory of the Trees and the beauty of the gems and the memory of the dark ways from Palisor held back the Noldoli—and ever Nólemë spake against Melko, calming their restlessness and discontents.
At length so great became his care that he took counsel with Fëanor, and even with Inwë and Ellu Melemno (who then led the Solosimpi), and took their rede that Manwë himself be told of the dark ways of Melko.
And Melko knowing this was in great anger against the Gnomes, and going first before Manwë bowed very low, and said how the Noldoli dared murmur to his ears against Manwë’s lordship, claiming that in skill and beauty they (whom Ilúvatar had destined to possëss all the earth) far surpassed the Valar, for whom they must labour unrecompensed. Heavy was Manwë’s heart at these words, for he had feared long that that great amity of the Valar and Eldar be ever perchance broken, knowing that the Elves were children of the world and must one day return to her bosom. Nay, who shall say but that all these deeds, even the seeming needless evil of Melko, were but a portion of the destiny of old? Yet cold was the Lord of the Gods to the informer, and lo! even as he questioned him further the embassy of Nólemë came thither, and being granted leave spake the truth before him. By reason of the presence of Melko perchance they spoke somewhat less skilfully in their own cause than they might, and perchance even the heart of Manwë Súlimo was tainted with the poison of Melko’s words, for that venom of Melko’s malice is very strong and subtle indeed.
Howbeit, both Melko and the Noldoli were chidden and dismissed. Melko indeed was bidden get him back to Mandos and there dwell awhile in penitence, nor dare to walk in Valmar for many moons, not until the great festival that now approached had come and gone; but Manwë fearing lest the pollution of their discontent spread among the other kindreds commanded Aulë to find other places and thither lead the Noldoli, and build them a new town where they might dwell.
Great was the sorrow upon the hill of Kôr when those tidings were brought thither, and though all were wroth with the treachery of Melko, yet was there now a new bitterness against the Gods, and the murmuring louder than before.
A little stream, and its name was Hiri, ran down from the hills, northward of the opening to the coast where Kôr was built, and it wandered thence across the plain no one knew whither. Maybe it found the Outer Seas, for north of the roots of Silpion it dived into the earth and there was a rugged place and a rock-ringed dale; and here the Noldoli purposed to abide, or rather to await the passing of wrath from Manwë’s heart, for in no way as yet would they accept the thought of leaving Kôr for ever.
Caves they made in the walls of that dale, and thither they bore their wealth of gems, of gold and silver and fair things; but their ancient homes in Kôr were empty of their voices, filled only with their paintings and their books of lore, and the streets of Kôr and all the ways of Valmar shone still with [?gems] and carven marbles telling of the days of the happiness of the Gnomes that cometh now upon its waning.
Now Melko gets him gone to Mandos, and far from Valinor he plans rebellion and vengeance upon both Gnomes and Gods. Indeed, dwelling for nigh three ages in the vaults of Mandos Melko had made friends to himself of certain gloomy spirits there and perverted them to ill, promising them great lands and regions on the Earth for their [?having] if they aided him when he called on them in need; and now he gathers them to him in the dark ravines of the mountains about Mandos. Thence sends he spies, invisible as fleeting shades when Silpion is in bloom, and learns of those doings of the Noldoli and of all that passes in the plain. Now soon after it chanced indeed that the Valar and Eldar held a great feast, even that one that Manwë had spoken of, bidding Melko rid Valmar of his presence at that time; for know that they made merry on one day every seventh year to celebrate the coming of the Eldar into Valinor, and every third year a lesser feast to commemorate the coming of the white fleet of the Solosimpi to the shores of Eldamar; but at every twenty-first year when both these feasts fell together they held one of the greatest magnificence, and it endured for seven days, and for this cause such years were called “Years of Double Mirth”;* and these feasts all the Koreldar wherever they now may be in the wide world still do celebrate. Now that feast that approacheth is one of Double Mirth, and all the hosts of the Gods and Elves made ready to celebrate it most gloriously. Pomps there were and long processions of the Elves, dancing and singing, that wound from Kôr to Valmar’s gates. A road had been laid against this festival from the westward gate of Kôr even to the turrets of the mighty arch which opened in the walls of Valmar northward towards the Trees. Of white marble it was and many a gentle stream flowing from the far mountains crossëd its path. Here it would leap into slender bridges marvellously fenced with delicate balustrades that shone like pearls; scarcely did these clear the water, so that lilies of great beauty growing upon the bosom of the streams that fared but gently in the plain thrust their wide blossoms about its borders and iris marched along its flanks; for by cunning delving runnels of clearest water were made to flow from stream to stream bordering that whole long way with the cool noise of rippling water. At places mighty trees grew on either side, or at places the road would open to a glade and fountains spring by magic high into the air for the refreshment of all who sped that way.
Now came the Teleri led by the white-robed people of the Inwir, and the throbbing of their congregated harps beat the air most sweetly; and after them went the Noldoli mingling once more with their own dear folk by Manwë’s clemency, that his festival might be duly kept, but the music that their viols and instruments awoke was now more sweetly sad than ever before.
And last came the people of the shores, and their piping blent with voices brought the sense of tides and murmurous waves and the wailing cry of the coast-loving birds thus inland deep upon the plain.
Then was all that host marshalled before the gate of Valmar, and at the word and sign from Inwë as one voice they burst in unison into the Song of Light. This had Lirillo2 written and taught them, and it told of the longing of the Elves for light, of their dread journey through the dark world led by the desire of the Two Trees, and sang of their utmost joy beholding the faces of the Gods and their renewed desire once more to enter Valmar and tread the Valar’s blessed courts. Then did the gates of Valmar open and Nornorë bid them enter, and all that bright company passed through. There Varda met them, standing amid the companies of the Mánir and the Sáruli, and all the Gods made them welcome, and feasts there were in all the great halls thereafter.
Now their custom was on the third day to robe themselves all in white and blue and ascend to the heights of Taniquetil, and there would Manwë speak to them as he thought fit of the Music of the Ainur and the glory of Ilúvatar, and of things to be and that had been. And on that day would Kôr and Valmar be silent and still, but the roof of the world and the slope of Taniquetil shine with the gleaming raiment of the Gods and Elves, and all the mountains echo with their speech—but afterward on the last day of merriment the Gods would come to Kôr and sit upon the slopes of its bright hill, gazing in love upon that slender town, and thereafter blessing it in the name of Ilúvatar would depart ere Silpion came to bloom; and so would end the days of Double Mirth.
But in this fateful year Melko dared of his blasphemous heart to choose that very day of Manwë’s speech upon Taniquetil for the carrying out of his designs; for then would Kôr and Valmar and the rock-ringed dale of Sirnúmen be unguarded: for against whom indeed had Elf or Vala need to guard in those old days?
Creeping then down with his dark people on the third day of Samírien, as that feast was named, he passed the dark halls of Makar’s abode (for even that wild Vala had gone to Valmar to honour the time, and indeed all of the Gods went there saving Fui and Vefántur only, and Ossë even was there, dissembling for those seven days his feud and jealousy with Ulmo). Here does a thought come to Melko’s heart, and he arms himself and his band stealthily with swords very sharp and cruel, and this was well for them: for now do they all steal into the vale of Sirnúmen where the Noldoli had their present dwelling, and behold the Gnomes by reason of the workings in their hearts of Melko’s own teaching had become wary and suspicious beyond the wont of the Eldar of those days. Guards of some strength were set over the treasures there that went not to the feast, albeit this was contrary to the customs and ordinances of the Gods. Now is there suddenly bitter war awake in the heart of Valinor and those guards are slain, even while the peace and gladness upon Taniquetil afar is very great—indeed for that reason none heard their cries. Now Melko knew that it was indeed war for ever between himself and all those other folk of Valinor, for he had slain the Noldoli—guests of the Valar—before the doors of their own homes. With his own hand indeed he slew Bruithwir father of Fëanor,3 and bursting into that rocky house that he defended laid hands upon those most glorious gems, even the Silmarils, shut in a casket of ivory. Now all that great treasury of gems he despoiled, and lading himself and all his companions to the utmost he seeks how he may escape.
Know then that Oromë had great stables and a breeding ground of good horses not so far from this spot, where a wild forest land had grown up. Thither Melko steals, and a herd of black horses he captures, cowing them with the terror that he could wield. Astride those his whole company of thieves rides far away, after destroying what things of lesser value they deemed it impossible to carry thence. Making a wide circuit and faring with the speed of hurricanes such as only the divine horses of Oromë ridden by the children of the Gods could compass they pass far to the west of Valmar in the untracked regions where the light of the Trees was thin. Long ere the folk had come down from Taniquetil and long ere the end of the feast or ever the Noldoli fared back to find their homes despoiled, Melko and his [?thieves] were ridden to the deep south, and finding there a low place in the hills they passed into the plains of Eruman. Well might Aulë and Tulkas bemoan their carelessness in leaving that low place long ago when they reared those hills to fend all evil from the plain—for that was the place where they were accustomed to enter Valinor after their quarryings in the fields of Arvalin.4 It is said indeed that this riding in a half-circle, laborious and perilous as it was, was at first no part of Melko’s design, for rather had he purposed to get to northward over the passes nigh to Mandos; but this he was warned might not be done, for Mandos and Fui never left those realms, and all the ravines and chasms of the northward mountains were infested with their folk, nor for all his gloom was Mandos any rebel against Manwë or an abetter of evil deeds.
Far to the north if one may endure the colds as Melko could it is said in ancient lore that the Great Seas narrow to a little thing, and without aid of ships Melko and his company might thus have got into the world safely; but this was not done, and the sad tale took its appointed course, or the Two Trees might yet have shone and the Elves sung still in Valinor.
At length that daytide of festival is over and the Gods are turned back towards Valmar, treading the white road from Kôr. The lights twinkle in the city of the Elves and peace dwells there, but the Noldoli fare over the plain to Sirnúmen sadly. Silpion is gleaming in that hour, and ere it wanes the first lament for the dead that was heard in Valinor rises from that rocky vale, for Fëanor laments the death of Bruithwir; and many of the Gnomes beside find that the spirits of their dead have winged their way to Vê. Then messengers ride hastily to Valmar bearing tidings of the deeds, and there they find Manwë, for he has not yet left that town for his abode upon Taniquetil.
“Alas, O Manwë Súlimo,” they cry, “evil has pierced the Mountains of Valinor and fallen upon Sirnúmen of the Plain. There lies Bruithwir sire of Fëanor5 dead and many of the Noldoli beside, and all our treasury of gems and fair things and the loving travail of our hands and hearts through many years is stolen away. Whither O Manwë whose eyes see all things? Who has done this evil, for the Noldoli cry for vengeance, O most [?just] one!”
Then said Manwë to them: “Behold O Children of the Noldoli, my heart is sad towards you, for the poison of Melko has already changed you, and covetice has entered your hearts. Lo! had ye not thought your gems and fabrics6 of better worth than the festival of the folk or the ordinances of Manwë your lord, this had not been, and Bruithwir go-Maidros and those other hapless ones still had lived, and your jewels been in no greater peril. Nay, my wisdom teaches me that because of the death of Bruithwir and his comrades shall the greatest evils fall on Gods and Elves, and Men to be. Without the Gods who brought you to the light and gave you all the materials of your craft, teaching your first ignorance, none of these fair things you love now so well ever would have been; what has been done may again be done, for the power of the Valar does not change; but of more worth than all the glory of Valinor and all the grace and beauty of Kôr is peace and happiness and wisdom, and these once lost are harder to recapture. Cease then to murmur and to speak against the Valar, or to set yourselves in your hearts as equals to their majesty; rather depart now in penitence knowing full well that Melko has wrought this evil against you, and that your secret trafficking with him has brought you all this loss and sorrow. Trust him not again therefore, nor any others that whisper secret words of discontent among you, for its fruit is humiliation and dismay.”
And the embassy was abashed and afraid and went back unto Sirnúmen utterly cast down; yet was Manwë’s heart heavier than theirs, for things had gone ill indeed, and yet he foresaw that worse would be; and so did the destinies of the Gods work out, for lo! to the Noldoli Manwë’s words seemed cold and heartless, and they knew not his sorrow and his tenderness; and Manwë thought them strangely changed and turned to covetice, who longed
but for comfort, being like children very full of the loss of their fair things.
Now Melko findeth himself in the wastes of Arvalin and knoweth not how he may escape, for the gloom there is very great, and he knoweth not those regions that stretch there unto the utmost south. Therefore he sent a messenger claiming the inviolable right of a herald (albeit this was a renegade servant of Mandos whom Melko had perverted) over the pass to Valinor, and there standing before the gates of Valmar7 he demanded audience of the Gods; and it was asked of him whence he came, and he said from Ainu Melko, and Tulkas would have hurled stones at him from the walls and slain him, but the.others as yet suffered him not to be mishandled, but despite their anger and loathing they admitted him to the great square of gold that was before Aulë’s courts. And at the same hour riders were sent to Kôr and to Sirnúmen summoning the Elves, for it was guessed that this matter touched them near. When all was made ready the messenger took stand beside the needle of pure gold whereon Aulë had written the story of the kindling of the Tree of gold (in Lórien’s courts stood one of silver with another tale), and on a sudden Manwë said: “Speak!” and his voice was as a clap of wrathful thunder, and the courts rang, but the envoy unabashed uttered his message, saying:
“The Lord Melko, ruler of the world from the darkest east to the outer slopes of the Mountains of Valinor unto his kinsmen the Ainur. Behold, in compensation for divers grievous affronts and for long times of unjust imprisonment despite his noble estate and blood that he has at your hands suffered, now has he taken, as is due to him, certain small treasures held by the Noldoli, your slaves. Great grief is it to him that of these he has slain some, in that they would do him hurt in the evil of their hearts; yet their blasphemous intent will he now put from memory, and all the past injuries that ye the Gods have wrought him will he so far forget as once again to show his presence in that place that is called Valmar, if ye will hearken to his conditions and fulfil them. For know that the Noldoli shall be his servants and shall adorn him a house; moreover of right he does demand” but hereon even as the herald lifted up his voice yet louder swelling with his words of insolence, so great became the wrath of the Valar that Tulkas and several of his house leapt down and seizing him stopped his mouth, and the place of council was in uproar. Indeed Melko had not thought to gain aught but time and the confusion of the Valar by this embassage of insolence.