Monday, 7th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion
A gondath of the Noldor |
Our departure was slow, silent, and (thankfully) uneventful. Retracing our steps was not easy in the dark, but Gaelira led us well. It was only a couple of hours later when we found ourselves back at the west-gate, where we leaned our shoulders against the stone and swung the door open. We were immediately blinded by a dazzling brilliance! We all shielded our faces in pain at the onslaught.
"Ow! My eyes!" I cried, but I was grinning from ear to ear and laughing as I spoke; the feel of the free air and warm Sun against my skin was nothing short of blissful. "Couldn't you have warned us that Arien herself was coming for tea, Gaelira? And me without the kettle on!"
"It shall grow brighter still," the she-Elf replied, who alone among us did not seem bothered by the sudden change, "For it is yet quite early in the morning: Arien remains behind the Misty Mountains, which now lay to our rear."
"Morning?" I echoed while blinking rapidly. "Morning of what day? We spent at least a few hours today making our way to this spot -- ought it not be more like afternoon, or even later?"
"It is easy to lose track of days when one walks beneath the earth," said Drodie, "But Gaelira has the right of it: we slept and rested less than we otherwise might in the darkness of Khazad-dum, and so we emerge now in the early morning of only the third day since we entered."
"Only three days!" I exclaimed. "It feels like a week to me, at least. But whether or no, I'm happy as can be to find myself out in the breeze once more."
"I'll be happier yet when we leave this pool well behind us, personally," said Nephyn. "Even in the light of morning it bears an unwholesome appearance."
We all gazed at the stagnant, black water and agreed. Quietly, we skirted around its northern edge and followed the path by the still-dried up bed of the Nan Sirannon until the lake was entirely out of sight. Only then did any of us dare to speak once more.
"Whew!" I gasped. "Even when we are out of danger we are not quite out of danger, it seems. Not that I had any particular reason to fear the pool; something about it was just... off."
"I agree," said Gaelira, "Although, like you, I too cannot say why I find the water disquieting. Perhaps I shall remember to ask Elrond about it once we have returned to Rivendell. I wonder if Malkan might be abroad and bear us news from him, or perhaps word of Minasse; though he could not possibly have reached Imladris so quickly, of course -- it is at least a two-weeks' journey from here back to the Last Homely House."
We all looked skyward, but there was no sign of our eagle-friend, so we pressed on once more. Following the ancient and crumbling path, we eventually returned to the stone archway which marked the very edge Moria's realm of old. Drodie stopped for a few moments to turn back and look at the mountains.
"Of all the works of my people," he said quietly, "Khazad-dum was ever the greatest, and its loss we feel more keenly than any other."
"I hope you had some satisfaction from what of it you did see at least, my friend," said Nephyn.
"Aye, that I had," nodded the Dwarf, "Still, I had hoped..." His voice trailed off and there was a pause.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Bah, 'twas naught but a rumour," he answered with a shake of his beard. "Idle talk, no doubt: inflamed by the distance it travelled and the pints which fed it before finally reaching my ears in the Blue Mountains. It was said that Balin, son of Fundin (one of the chief companions of Thorin Oakenshield, former king of Durin's Folk, as I'm sure some of you know), had mounted an expedition to reclaim Khazad-dum. I never really believed it myself, but I confess I had hoped to find some sign of him and his people when we entered Moria. I doubt now that Lord Balin ever even came here to begin with."
"Perhaps, and perhaps not," said Gaelira. "Had he done so, he would have arrived from the East, and so would have entered through the valley of Nanduhirion that Men call the Dimrill Dale. Moria is vast: it is conceivable that we could have seen and heard no trace of him in all our time beneath the mountains, for our adventures were entirely on the western edge of that realm."
"May it be that you speak prophetically, friend Elf," Drodie replied. "It would pain my heart to know that my people still have no hope to reclaim Khazad-dum, but it would be more grievous by far if the Lord Balin did return here and some ill-fate befell him. My folk cannot afford to wage another war of vengeance against the Orcs of Moria. The memory of burning my grandsire at Azanulbizar is not one which has faded, despite the passage of many years."
We pressed on a little further, then lunched in the tumbled ruins just north of the road. Afterward, we put a good many more miles behind us before we finally made camp. As I write this, we are currently headed north, back toward Rivendell, where we hope to surrender the gondath to Elrond, who will use it to finally cure Lagodir and destroy the evil wraith Guloth forever at last.
I have been keeping an eye on the Gondorian this afternoon, and I think Nephyn was as well. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but I believe he is struggling on the march. He was very quiet for a long time and he seemed to be weary -- far wearier than I have seen him from nothing more than a simple journey. But then, once evening had fallen and we settled down in the gathering dark, he appeared to be in better spirits, so I did not voice my concerns. I will continue to watch him closely.
Monday, 14th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion
It has been a week since my last entry, but only because there hasn't been much of anything to report. We have continued to make our way north toward Rivendell, but the land seems to be crawling by at a snail's pace. We had beautiful weather for the first few days since emerging from Moria, but then a front swooped in sometime during the night on Mersday; it has been nasty and overcast ever since.
We marched mostly in silence, but once in a while some of us would talk to pass the time. It was largely unimportant chit-chat, but there was one conversation which piqued my interest, probably because it wasn't really meant for my ears. We were making our way through the flat-lands of Hollin and there was a strong, chill wind blowing down on us from the mountains to the east. The quiet words of Nephyn and Lagodir, who were walking to my right, were brought to me on that wind.
"I am sorry for your suffering," I heard Nephyn say, "I was hoping I might be able to return your sword to you once we left Moria. And not just because the thing is bloody heavy." (I later learned Lagodir had surrendered to her the sword given him by Elrond sometime after our battle with Morhun but before we had left the Mines. I think she had concealed it with her longbow, which she usually carried wrapped in her sleeping blankets).
"It is best that I remain unarmed for now," I heard Lagodir reply, "Besides, it is not truly my sword; Elrond ordered its forging and gave it me so that I could pass it on to another."
"Oh? To whom, if I may ask?"
"An Elf named Haldir," the Gondorian answered, "But who or where he may be, I know not."
"Perhaps Elrond foresaw that we would cross paths with this Haldir at some point in our travels?" Nephyn mused. "Maybe he is some great warrior!"
"Maybe," said Lagodir. I noticed at this point he was breathing heavily, and Nephyn surely saw it also, for she spoke no more to him but offered her shoulder in support. I pondered these words as the miles rolled beneath our feet.
It is now well after midnight as I finish writing this entry. I'm exhausted: Gaelira insisted we continue moving for several hours longer than usual. She would not say why, but even I can tell that Lagodir appears to be worsening. His face is lined and drawn, and he sweats as we travel despite the weather being unusually cool for this time of year. I'm not sure what sort of internal battle he is having to fight on his own, but I worry that time is running out for him. We will need to reach Rivendell, and soon, though we have yet to even see the southern edges of the Trollshaws. I'm told we ought to arrive in that land sometime the day after tomorrow.
Oh, I thought I saw Malkan in the sky overhead yesterday, but if it was him he did not come to us and instead flew off toward the south.
Trewsday, 22nd of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The High Moor, Somewhere in the Trollshaws
Another week and a day have passed, and we are all becoming very anxious. Gaelira has been pushing us at a terrific pace, presumably out of concern for our Gondorian friend. She has had us marching well into the night-time hours and doing most of our resting during the day. I couldn't understand this for quite a while, but then it occurred to me that Lagodir seems to be stronger and more aware in the lightless hours, though whether that was just me imagining things are something else I couldn't say.
Tonight, though, our luck really turned sour: Lagodir was already not doing well, but once we crossed the Bruinen he began to be very badly off indeed. This slowed our progress to a crawl, and there was little we could do for him, as he is a large and very stout Man. Gaelira and Nephyn took turns supporting him, but there wasn't much Drodie or I can do to help. Moreover, the rising and rocky terrain only made the situation worse, and (as of that morning) the perpetual cloudy skies finally turned to rain. As the first drops began to fall, I saw Lagodir stumbling along and muttering to himself while Nephyn tried to hold him upright. I wondered how we were ever going to reach Rivendell at that rate.
But just then there came the sound of a winding horn -- a sound I had heard near that same spot once before. My heart leapt within me! I looked eastward, whence came the cry, and there I saw Elrond's retinue trotting up to us on silver-white horses with the Elf-lord himself at their head. Minimal pleasantries were exchanged, for Elrond's face became grave as he looked upon Lagodir's state. He commanded that we all be carried on horseback to Imladris, and so it was that we five returned once more to the Valley of the Elves in a slow, mounted procession. The storm, which had threatened to pound the land about with rain and hail, turned out to be little more than a reverent, drizzly caress on Lagodir's brow as we went along. Looking at him, I saw that his eyes were darkened; he knew us not, and I wept out of pity even as we arrived at Elrond's House.
We were ushered within and given all manner of attendance, but our collective minds were fixated on our friend. Elrond asked that he be removed to the Room of Rest, then he turned and spoke to us.
"I knew of your approach once you crossed the Bruinen, my friends," he said to us in his kind but firm voice, "And at once I brought forth members of my household to meet you and render aid. Your return is timely, for Lagodir's last strength to resist the evil within him is swiftly ebbing. I sense also that you return bearing an item of great power; I trust it is one of the gondath, which you set out to find?"
"We have and it is," Gaelira replied. She drew forth the Shadow-stone and handed it at once to Elrond. The Elf-lord frowned as he grasped it and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"This is indeed a fine specimen of the lost Noldorin craft," he said slowly, "But it is tainted by some darkness, the force of which takes my breath. You bore this thing hither, Gaelira, over all the leagues from Moria to my house? Then you have my commendation, young one, but I read in your faces that the stone's corruption is already known to you. There is a tale surrounding your errand that I am eager to hear, then, but such things must wait. I will take the stone and cleanse it, and then I shall tend to Lagodir. Should you lack anything, you have only to call upon Lindir. He may be found in the Hall of Fire, I think. Now forgive me -- I should delay no longer."
Elrond swept into the Room of Rest followed by three of his attendants, then shut the door behind him. The four of us made our way downstairs to the Hall of Fire where we sat for a long while, nervously awaiting any news. Several folk were there (as was usually the case, especially at night, and by that time it was well after dark), but they all kept their distance as they seemed to understand we were in some plight. The hours dragged on and on, but no word came.
I can only suppose that Drodie, Nephyn, and I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I remember was being jolted awake by what I thought was a terrific clap of thunder followed by a tremor in the floor beneath my feet. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the weather had turned truly awful while Nephyn and Drodie roused themselves too. The other inhabitants of the Hall grew suddenly quiet, then began murmuring among themselves. Gaelira was standing at a nearby window, but her attention was turned inward -- toward the house -- rather than the outside. I was just about to ask her what was going on when the door to the Hall of Fire flew open and Lindir came swiftly through.
"You four," he said with a motion toward us, "Lord Elrond has summoned you. Come quickly, now!"
We did as we were told, and were soon assembled just outside the Room of Rest. Elrond was there, and I remember thinking his blue eyes seemed especially bright to me, but in his two hands he held the broken halves of the gondath.
"Is that...?" asked Nephyn as we rushed forward. "Oh, no! Does this mean --?"
"Do not be afraid," Elrond said to her, but he might as well have been speaking to me also, for the same thoughts were racing through my mind. "Although it has been fractured, the stone will still serve our purpose to heal your friend. But I have called you hither to ask: what is your tale regarding this artefact? I have seen and learned much already, but I fear what may remain hidden from my sight."
"We recovered the stone from an Orc named Morhun in the deepest vaults of Moria," Gaelira responded. "We believe Morhun was part of an entourage for someone he called 'the Emissary' who came seeking the gondath and claimed all of them that he found there. The Orc also mentioned that this Emissary worked with the stones for days before removing them. Apparently Morhun came to covet the stones for himself, and his treachery earned him imprisonment in the vault when the Emissary departed. Still, Morhun managed to steal one of the stones before he was left to die, and it had some foul effect upon him: he was not in his right mind when we discovered him there, wretched and tormented. He unleashed the stone's power upon us, but I was unaffected and slew him where he stood. My friends, perhaps, could tell you more of what they saw."
Drodie, Nephyn, and I told Elrond briefly about our experience, and the Elf-lord sighed deeply.
"As I suspected," he said, "This Emissary can only be some agent of Mordor, steeped in the dark arts. It seems he infused the gondath with a great number of fell-spirits, using the stones' given abilities to bind them within."
"Like the heart-stones we encountered in Angmar, you mean?" Nephyn asked with a shudder.
"Similar, yes, but the gondath are of High Elven-make and much greater potency," said Elrond. "I have never heard of them being used in this manner before, nor do I know what the Emissary might wish to do with such things. As I attempted to cleanse the stone, the wraiths within it began to resist me! My counter-efforts were auspicious, though the vessel was broken in the conflict. Your tale has filled in some of the gaps in my understanding, and for that I thank you -- I am now certain it is safe to fetter Guloth within the shards of the stone, whereupon I shall have my smiths destroy it and your quest shall finally be fulfilled. Knowledge of this Emissary's plot, however, is another matter which may require your singular talents, my friends, but first let us dispense with the enemy at hand ere we seek out another. Go now and rest, if you are able. The process to withdraw Guloth's spirit from Lagodir and bind it to the gondath will likely be a lengthy one, but it shall be successful, I think."
We departed in haste so that Elrond might begin his work. Upon returning to the Hall of Fire, Drodie and I sought some food, but Gaelira and Nephyn declared they had no desire to eat. Slowly, the faint light of dawn was appearing in the sky, and I, content with a full belly and trusting the words of Elrond, allowed myself to sleep once more.
Hevensday, 23rd of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The Last Homely House, Rivendell
I slept straight through to the mid-afternoon thanks to the gentle sounds of Elven music which surrounded me. My companions were up and about when I woke, but there had been no further news from Elrond since the early hours of the morning when we last saw him. There had been such a commotion upon our arrival that we were only then given proper lodgings within the Last Homely House although, grateful as we were for the accommodations, we elected instead to remain together in the Hall of Fire for the time being. Gaelira was constantly going in and out with nary a word to the rest of us, which I found rather unsettling. She was clearly bothered by something, but she did not speak to the rest of us about what might have been troubling her. I was just screwing myself up to ask what had her so flustered when Elrond appeared in the doorway. He beckoned us to himself, and we gathered round a small table in a secluded corner.
"Your Gondorian friend has been purged of the wraith," he said quietly. We resisted the urge to cheer -- it was as if an enormous weight had been lifted from our collective shoulders.
"May we see him?" asked Nephyn eagerly.
"Of course," Elrond replied. "He is within the Room of Rest, as before, and he is sleeping soundly just now. I shall see to it no one hinders your coming and going from that place at any hour so long as your friend remains there, since his recovery will take some time. Even when broken, the craft of the Noldor is strong enough to hold Guloth's essence, and so both Lagodir and the whole of Eriador is fortunate to be rid of a dangerous foe this day. I tarry now only briefly before taking the stone to the Forges of Rivendell, where I will order it shattered and its power dissipated beyond recall. But first, I would ask: did you learn aught from Luean? How fares his search for the lesser-ring Narchuil?" We paused a moment, but Gaelira spoke for us.
"We found Luean within the ruins of Tham Mirdain," she said sadly, "But he had passed from this world some days before, wounded by many cruel sword-strokes. His body we commended to the inhabitants of Mirobel, who did his memory the proper honours. Did Minasse not deliver our message to you concerning these things? We sent him hither with tidings, for we felt it news you would wish to hear while we continued our search for the gondath in hopes of curing Lagodir."
"You did well and wisely," said Elrond with raised eyebrows, "But I must tell you Minasse never passed the boundaries of my realm."
"He never made it here?" I exclaimed. "But, but then, where is he now?"
"I do not know," Elrond replied, "And so I knew nothing of Luean's fate until now. This is grievous to hear, all the more so because he was your former companion. I myself feel partly responsible for this tragedy, since he embarked on that errand at my request. Had I known enemies were come again even so close to Mirobel and I would have taken greater precautions. What foe was it that overcame him?"
"We found Orcs within the ruins at the old college," said Gaelira, "But..."
"But we have reason to suspect others," Nephyn cut in. She dug through her pockets and produced the slip of paper we had recovered near Luean's body and handed it to Elrond, who reviewed it with a frown.
"The name Volfren is not known to me," he said in a grave voice, "But Inar! That, I am afraid, is a name I have heard more than once before now. It seems Mallacai was right after all, though I am surprised he did not inform me of this development."
"What does it all mean?" I asked. Elrond sighed.
"It means we have much to discuss," he said. "But first, you four should take solace in your victory: Guloth will soon be no more, Lagodir will eventually recover, and many of the Free Peoples in the North are now aware of their danger, thanks in no small part to your efforts. Rest now! There will be time enough for grim councils tomorrow."
"Now that I can understand!" I said. "We should leave all the gloominess and intrigue for later. Come! Let's go see Lagodir, even if he can't yet see us."
Elrond bade us farewell and left for the Forges while we hastened upstairs and into the Room of Rest. There was Lagodir, sleeping peacefully upon a canopied bed with many cushions, and his face looked more serene than I had ever seen it. It really appeared as though twenty years of toil had melted away from him as Nephyn gently brushed a lock of his hair off his brow.
"He really is a brave chap, isn't he?" I whispered. "I remember when he first told us about the time he spent in that... that Morgul-place, and how terrible it was."
"He is valiant," Nephyn agreed. "No other word would do him justice." She and Gaelira reclined in nearby chairs while Drodie and I sat on the plush carpet.
"It must have been terrible," I went on, "To see all the things he has. It makes everything I've been through seem quite trivial by comparison. And he's always been such a troubled soul, but you would see glimpses of happiness now and again. I hope he will finally know peace."
"He, more than any of us, deserves peace the most, I think," said Nephyn.
"Of all we have accomplished," said Gaelira quietly, "Lagodir is perhaps the most significant."
"True!" I agreed. "And that's what this has all been about, hasn't it? Making a difference? It was for me anyway. But I always thought it would be about making a difference on some grand scale -- you know, like in the old tales. It turns out that the realest and most important difference we've made was right here among ourselves." Nephyn reached over and gave my shoulder a little squeeze.
"That is why I do not believe the Dark Lord will prevail," said Gaelira. "I think we are as much a danger to his designs as all of the captains and generals in the world."
"You know," I said with a yawn, "Despite all that, our missing Elf, and whatever it is Inar may be up to, I feel more calm now than I have in a very long time."
We four kept vigil at our friend's bedside through the night. Some Elves came in later bearing food and drink, which we gladly accepted. We spoke little, but we each thought much about our time together and our great friendship. One by one, we began drifting off to sleep. As my eyelids drooped, I could see Gaelira sitting upright in her chair, her eyes closed and her head forward in silent meditation. Then there came a bright flash like green lightning through the windows, but no thunder followed it. Perhaps I was already wandering into a dream, but I thought I heard a thin, wailing cry rise high above the valley before it faded into nothing. Then came the soothing rush of the wind through the pine-trees, and I slept with a smile upon my face.
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