But in these days Elves and Men were kindred and allies.
Before the rising of the Sun and Moon Feanor and his sons
marched into the North seeking for Morgoth. A host of
Orcs aroused by the light of the burning ships came down
on them, and there was battle on the plain renowned in
song. Yet dark beneath the stars the plain stretched to the feet of the
tall mountains upreared over Morgoth's halls; but afterward
it became burnt and desolate, and is called the Land of
Thirst, Dor-na-Fauglith in the Gnomish tongue. There was
the First Battle, the Battle under Stars. Great was the slaughter of the Orcs and
Balrogs, and no tale can tell the valour of Feanor or of his
sons. Yet woe entered into that first great victory. For
Feanor was wounded to the death by Gothmog Lord of
Balrogs, whom Ecthelion after slew in Gondolin. Feanor
died in the hour of victory, looking upon the gigantic peaks
of Thangorodrim, the greatest of hills of the hither world; and he
cursed the name of Morgoth, and laid it on his sons never
to treat or parley with their foe. Yet even in the hour of his
death there came to them an embassy from Morgoth acknowledging
his defeat, and offering to treat, and tempting
them with a Silmaril. Maidros the tall persuaded the
Gnomes to meet Morgoth at the time and place appointed,
but with as little thought of faith on his side as there was
on the part of Morgoth. Wherefore each embassy came in
far greater force than they had sworn, but Morgoth brought
the greater, and they were Balrogs. Maidros was ambushed
and most of his company was slain; but Maidros was taken
alive by the command of Morgoth, and carried to Angband
and tortured, and hung from the face of a sheer precipice
upon Thangorodrim by his right wrist alone.
Then the six sons of Feanor dismayed drew off and encamped
by the shores of Lake Mithrim, in that northern
land which was after called Hisilome, Hithlum or Dorlomin
by the Gnomes, which is the Land of Mist. There they
heard of the march of Fingolfin and Fingon and Felagund,
who had crossed the Grinding Ice.
Even as these came the first Sun arose; their blue and silver
banners were unfurled, and flowers sprang beneath their
marching feet. The Orcs dismayed at the uprising of the
great light retreated to Angband, and Morgoth thwarted
pondered a long while in wrathful thought.
Little love was there between the two hosts encamped
upon the opposing shores of Mithrim, and the delay engendered
by their feud did great harm to the cause of both.
Now vast vapours and smokes were made in Angband
and sent forth from the smoking tops of the Mountains of
Iron, which even afar off in Hithlum could be seen staining
the radiance of those earliest mornings. The vapours fell
and coiled about the fields and hollows, and lay on
Mithrim's bosom dark and foul.
Then Fingon the valiant resolved to heal the feud. Alone
he went in search of Maidros. Aided by the very mists of
Morgoth, and by the withdrawal of the forces of Angband,
he ventured into the fastness of his enemies, and at last he
found Maidros hanging in torment. But he could not reach
him to release him; and Maidros begged' him to shoot him
with his bow.
Manwe to whom all birds are dear, and to whom they
bring news upon Tindbrenting of all things which his farsighted
eyes do not see, had sent forth the race of Eagles.
Thorndor was their king. At Manwe's command they dwelt
in the crags of the North and watched Morgoth and hindered
his deeds, and brought news of him to the sad ears
of Manwe.
Even as Fingon sorrowing bent his bow, there flew
down from the high airs Thorndor king of eagles. He was
the mightiest of all birds that ever have been. Thirty fathoms was the span of his outstretched wings. His beak was of
gold. So the hand of Fingon was stayed, and Thorndor bore
to the face of the rock where Maidros hung. But neither
could release the enchanted bond upon the wrist, nor
sever it nor draw it from the stone. Again in agony Maidros
begged them to slay him, but Fingon cut off his hand
above the wrist, and Thorndor bore them to Mithrim, and
Maidros' wound was healed, and he lived to wield sword
with his left hand more deadly to his foes than his right had
been.
Thus was the feud healed for a while between the proud
sons of Finwe and their jealousy forgotten, but still there
held the oath of the Silmarils.