Meneldor received the rosemary, and then drank from the metal vessel that was proffered to him by Erinhue. It was barely a drop to him due to his great size, but it was incredibly potent. He felt himself surrounded by a glimmering shadow of himself as he looked again at the mural.
In a transition that seemed to last a mere microsecond, but also seemed to last for ages, he found himself perched atop the tallest of the three peaks of Thangorodrim, which he had seen before in a previous dream or vision, and also had seen when he was there in the past. To the north was Angband, which was teeming with orcs, Balrogs and other evil creatures. The sound of their dark tongue met his ears. To the south was the plain of Ard-Galen, and to the southeast was the land of Hithlum. He saw all Beleriand laid out before him. But something drew the Eagle's attention. The light of fires to the west, at the Firth of Brendgist. The fires of burning ships. The din of the creatures of Morgoth rose to a great clamor around him, as they were alerted to the presence of Fëanor and the Noldor where they camped, and they were sent rapidly to where they were, to catch them by surprise.
But the attack was rapidly turned against them into a rout. The light was merely the light of the stars, but the eagle-eyes of Meneldor were adjusted to the light, and he witnessed the battle, which lasted for ten days, and slaughtered the hosts of Morgoth.
But then, hot with wrath, Fëanor broke away from the vanguard, pursuing the Orcs to a plain just below him. Meneldor had a unique view of the battle. None like him would ever arise, and the elf fought valiantly against impossible odds. Gothmog, leading the Balrogs came from their hiding holes beneath where the Eagle was perched, their fiery whips and weapons snapping. The FOOL! He was standing alone against that host.
Meneldor spread his wings and prepared to dive down on them, joining Fëanor in battle, but felt a wing against him. "No, Sorontel." He looked around to see Thornondor, King of the Eagles beside him. The King dwarfed him, and he felt like a thrush beside him. "No, Sorontel, you must not go down. It is forbidden to you. What comes to pass is what must be. You will understand in time."
Meneldor stifled a cry, but obeyed, and watched the battle. Fëanor was surrounded by flame, lashed by whips, and yet he fought on. Any he knew would have been slaughtered in the first onslaught, but Fëanor seemed unhurt, fighting on, until finally Gothmog delivered the fatal blow.
Only then did his sons catch up with him to drive off the Balrogs. "Go. Follow them, but do not interfere, Sorontel. Yours is to watch, and learn." came the voice of Thorondor his lord.
Meneldor lifted up and followed from far above. It was dark, but they seemed to glimmer with a strange light, and something Fëanor carried, shone brightest of all.
The Eagle alit on a mount overlooking Eithel Sirion, and witnessed the last words of Fëanor, the admonition to follow in his stead and remembering their fatal Oath. Then, he died, but in a flash of flame, his body was consumed. It was the beginning of a futile series of battles before the Valar would intervene.
The Eagle lifted up his voice and wept. Such greatness, but marred by pride and wrath.
He sang of what he saw.
How great a star has fallen!
Curufinwë the skilled,
Creator of the palantiri
And greater talismans,
But the greatest,
The Silmarilii, the Holy Jewels,
Bearers of the light of the Trees,
Lost for all time,
Until the very end.
Such great a spirit,
A spirit of fire,
Fëanaro, fiery spirit of the Noldor,
Pride was his downfall.
Only at the end will his greatness shine forth.
He fought against impossible odds,
Alone against hordes of orcs,
Then Balrogs, the very demons of fire,
But he fought on,
Alone against the hosts of Morgoth.
Flames surrounded him,
The crack of whips sounded,
Going even before the throne of the Dark Lord.
Greatest of the Valar,
But fallen due to his own pride and wrath.
The spirit of Fëanor,
fiery to the last,
fled his body,
consuming it to ash,
None shall see his like again,
Until the last day,
The Dagor Dagorath,
when he shall arise again.
A tear fell, and as sudden as it began, he was back in the Hall. He had been away for mere seconds, or was it forever? He couldn't figure out the difference.
Squirrel Lovers Club!Meneldor, Warrior Bard, and Brondgast, Mithril Knights
Gwaeryn and Robin, The Expected Party
Meneldor, Alatar and Pallando, Darkness Reigns: The Resistance