Unfinished Tales - Tumblr Posts
Arwen joins the search for Celebrían
“-and it was then that Elrond first saw Celebrían, and loved her, though he said nothing of it”
Elladan & Elrohir | Arwen
I bet the Battle of Fornost fucking sucked lol
You know, for all that the elves are beautifully described by Tolkien to have a deep cultural connection to the stars, the only character in Middle Earth that I would really label an astronomer is a mortal man: Tar-Meneldur, the fifth king of Numenor.
Tar-Meneldur was actually born “Irimon”,...
The boy had been brought before me just before dusk. The sun having just begun its descent from its brightest point as the shadows of evening crept slowly past the borders of what was once known as the Great Greenwood.
He was fatally young; even when measured to the fleeting lifespan of men, his infant like face pale white, painted with the colours of battle, speckled with contrasting shades of brownish red and black. It was the Woodmen who had delivered him, stuttering and shaking, barely able to get a word out.
"My lord... your highness... great Elven King! My liege... ambushed. Orcs! I ran. He told me to run. Seek help under the canopy... Thranduil!"
He needed to be calmed. Not even the greatest puzzle masters could have made sense of the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. Such a feat is not easy; when your own fears are set alight, each tiny hair standing straight on end as the shadow of unrest creeps up on you from behind like a cloaked assassin. Thankfully, I still knew the words. Though the incantation was mostly used on animals, men were not a far cry away from being a four legged beast. As the ancient Sindarin words were uttered, the boy's breathing returned to normal, the trembling of his hands ceased and his tense shoulders began to slump.
"The beginning, child. Start from the beginning."
I listened closely to every word as the boy spoke of his predicament. He was the squire of Isildur's eldest son. Accompaning his lord as they journeyed to Imladris. The riding party had not been a secret. Every leader of every realm aware of the King’s journey and the path he was set to travel. If they were lucky, Elrond would be able to reason with the man and convince him to give up his prize and destroy it. At least on this matter, myself and the Lord of Imladris were keen to agree.
Why Isildur had been allowed to keep it, was beyond comprehension. Though tough and resourceful; men were weak of heart. Easily corrupted. Prone to make foolish choices and take unecessary risks. Harbringers of misfortune and calamity. Both of which had befallen Isildur before he could reach his destination.
The band of orcs had attacked them in the Gladden Fields. A bold move while they were being hunted like vermin in a granary. Such a scourge is difficult to purge however. Though we had done well to push them into the fringes of existence. Those that had survived the battle were unorganized, ill equipped and without any kind of leadership. No more dangerous than a pack of wolves during a particularly long winter. How an entire retinue of Dunedain had fallen to the brutes should have been an embarassment, but in the moment it was nothing but a grave concern.
Against all advice, I rode out myself, fully armoured and ready to fight, despite the fact I had barely recovered from the last one. Our speed and determination mattered not. We arrived too late to offer any kind of aid.
Bodies littered the field; both men and orc, cold enough to the touch that it seemed rather obvious the battle had ended just as quickly as it had begun. They had not been prepared and the boy had not been fast enough. There was nothing that could have been done.
A meticulous search of all the fallen lasted well into the night, yet the most important corpse could not be recovered, nor could the precious cargo he had been carrying. To call it a disaster would be an understatement. Two Kingdoms left without a King. His body unaccounted for. The Ring lost as quickly as it had been aqcuired. Although the Dark Lord had been vanquished, here he was still gaining feats.
"There is nothing to be concerned about" the White Wizard had spoken, his drawling voice echoing throughout the council chamber like a slowly spreading miasma. "The ring has not yet changed hands. I would know if it has. WE would know. Swept away by the swollen waters of the Anduin. I shall recover it myself and inform the council when it is found."
I never trusted him. A snake in Maiar costume. For months I watched him creep around the fields. Searching for that which was never found as darkness moved into the Greenwood, reaching further and further each time I dared to speak against him. Yet it still came as a great shock when I began to ignore the council summons. A legion of fools. That is what they were. Blind to that which they did not want to see. For who else but a fool would gaze upon a building storm and pretend as though the skies are clear?