Setting Sails for Valinor RPG

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen’s post:

”You may know why I have called on you, Tanroth, loyal warrior of Lothlorien.” She spoke in a deep voice. Her eyes were laid on the now aging Elf, standing in front of her.

Tanroth, on the other hand tried not to look at her. It was impossible if he was going to answer her today. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop staring at her ivory-white dress, embroidered with thin green thread. Her face was fair and her eyes glittered in the fading light. She kept looking at him too, and in a wondering voice she said: “Well.” It sounded as if she was going to continue but didn’t.

”You want me to lead a quest,” Tanroth said at once, without giving Galadriel another look.

She smiled at him and gave a nod. She seemed pleased with this answer and, with a gracious look, she invited him to sit down. The Lady poured a glass of something reddish into a flagon and gave it to him. Tanroth smiled and set the glass to his lips. Galadriel seated herself before him and looked quite relaxed. “This is not just any quest,” she confided to him after a while. Tanroth looked at her with wide and wondering eyes. What was it she wanted him to do? Was it something of great importance? The questions made his head feel as if it was about to explode.

”Something of great importance,” she continued. The Elf looked now at the Lady more stunned than ever. Had she read his mind? Tanroth didn’t get the chance of giving that another thought, because of the lady’s movements towards the table between them. She seized from the table, a roll of parchment and gave it to him. Tanroth accepted it gladly. He rolled it open, and to his surprise, the content was much longer than he had expected. With great excitement he started reading the golden letters.

”I have called on thee. Thee of all I want to lead my quest," he read out loud. This was followed by a road description, horses at his disposal, and last of all, granted Tanroth access to the last ship going to the Undying Lands before the War started in earnest.

”You have no questions, I deem,” said Galadriel, meanwhile observing him to see if he had any sort of reaction she hadn’t counted on.

“Milady, I have one,” Tanroth said at last, thinking through what he had just read.

“One friend you shall bring, because of the perils that may befall. But only seven others may go with you. The ship is only capable of taking the nine of you, since there are already many who have left.” Galadriel looked upon Tanroth as she knew what he was thinking again. “No, Tanroth, I will not go now. My time is yet to come,” she muttered.

”But why?” he burst out. “Pardon, why will you not go?” he asked again, after he had calmed down. Tanroth couldn’t believe he had talked in such a voice to the Lady. He felt ashamed and could do nothing now.

”That is my friend, your second question. You had only one,” she assured him while rising. “I did not choose you to fail. The intention was quite the opposite. Incidentally, you will hold the meeting of the Elves today to decide who will go.” With those final words, she walked with great elegance out of the room.

Tanroth, however, was totally stunned. He was wondering what he should do now. The Elf set his empty glass on the table, and was escorted out.

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel’s post

It was late, the afternoon was fading and it would soon be evening. The darkness was falling heavily over the woods of Lothlorien. The sun was about to leave Middle-Earth and the moon was soon to rise when Firiel heard trembling steps in the stairs. They were followed by stern knocks on the door.

Firiel didn't like the look on the face of her friend Tanroth. He looked both happy and anxious while standing in front of her. He was about to tell her something; she knew that. It seemed important, so she let him talk without her interrupting.

"The Lady wants me to lead a quest." said the strong man in front of her. "A quest which will be both difficult and dangerous.” He continued,"She wants me to lead a group of Elves to the Grey Haven so they can take the White Ship to the Undying lands, to Valinor."

"But the war is upon us," Firiel said anxiously when Tanroth had finished.

"Yes I know, and so does the Lady. But this quest has to be done now." He spoke in a desperate voice. "Only seven Elves and one friend may follow me, because there are only nine places left on the ship. Many have gone already and we don't seem to have much time left if we want to see our relatives and family in Valinor. We may die in this war!" He sounded even more desperate. "Some of us are so old that we won't be able to fight."

Firiel had listen to all he had said, but there was one word that she had taken great notice of. Now she understood. "Friend, you say....." Firiel muttered. "You want m-me to follow, am I correct?"

"It is terrible how people just read my mind today" Tanroth smiled and gave a short laugh. "Yes, I want you to follow," he said afterwards. "I want you to help me with this quest, and not only that; I know how you have been wanting to see your brothers and parents again..." he said not smiling anymore. He looked rather serious now.

Then Firiel suddenly remembered Rostion, her husband. She couldn't just leave him. She loved him! "What about my husband then?" She asked after a while.

"I don't think you have to worry about him," Rostion said in a "calm-down-voice" "It will probably be the oldest Elves, and Rostion is one of them." He continued, "There will be a meeting where the Elves will be chosen...."

"There will be a meeting?" Firiel interrupted as soon as she heard the word.
"Yes, a meeting, the Elves that will follow will be chosen there," he repeated slowly. "I'm sure that everyone will agree that the oldest Elves should have first priority."

"I hope you are right," Firiel said quite anxious again. "When is this meeting then?" she asked all of a sudden.

"Now," Tanroth said quickly. "So we must hurry," he continued. He looked at her and gave a sign that she should follow.

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen’s post

A small crowd had gathered in the little meeting room. As the Lady spoke all fell silent, but the murmurs were soon about to start. As she came to the spot mentioning that only seven could go, Firiel and Tanroth had to calm down a number of people. After this Galadriel left the room, wishing them the best of luck and hoping they would sort it out in the best way possible.

The floor was now Tanroth’s, and he spoke in a strong voice: “I know this is an opportunity none of you will want to miss. But surely as the Lady said, everyone cannot go. Therefore I suggest . . .” A few of the Elves interrupted, but were silent after Firiel’s warning look. “I suggest,” Tanroth repeated, “that the seven oldest may go. This is their turn,” he said and fell silent.

The crowd seemed to agree. Most of them nodded and gave no sign of being sad on hearing the news about who would go except a few. After moments of pushing and making way for the seven, they all stood in front of Tanroth and Firiel. “Two females, and five men,” Firiel whispered in Tanroth’s ear. Rostion, Firiel’s husband, was of course one of them.

Tanroth passed each one of them, slipping a note in their hands. “The meeting is over,” he called. Tanroth turned on his heel walking swiftly towards the door.

”Wait!” The call of a male Elf rang through the hall and Tanroth turned around. “My place is here, and therefore, I will not leave,” spoke one of the oldest who went by the name of Siralil. He offered to give up his place and Tanroth took the little piece of paper from the Elf. Siralil pressed through the crowd and went out the door.

“Arilewen, the place is then yours. I know you are older then the others left. Do you want it?” he asked. From back in the room, they heard a cry. She was crying while receiving the note, an obvious sign that this was something she wanted. Tanroth looked over the Elves now. From one female and six men, the group had gone to two females and five men.

Firiel looked upon Tanroth and announced that now the meeting was over.

Both of them left the room without another word.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Each of those leaving for the Grey Havens had been sent this note:

We will leave tomorrow after sunrise. Please meet us by Tanroth's house. It's located on the outskirts of Lorien. From there we will go North-West. Take with you what you need, but not more. The journey will be difficult and perhaps dangerous.

Horses will not be needed, not now anyhow. We will travel by foot


~~ Tanroth and Firiel

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Enif's post

It was a mid-summer eve when news came to Erkaliel that a meeting was going to be held that day , it would be organized by Tanroth under the order of the Lady Galadriel. She did not have a clue about the topic of the meeting but she imagined it would be something of great importance.

The meeting started and the Lady spoke of a company that would leave to the Undying Lands, a total of nine elves would be chosen to go. It was not an easy decision, nor was it an easy meeting. A note was given to everyone present though some of those who where there refused the offer right away. The meeting finally ended and Erkaliel went back to her house.

At night , lighted by the silvery moon Erkaliel sat by her bedroom window as the warm breeze came thru the window. She suddenly realized that almost all the kin of elves had left Middle-earth, and that now she had to give in, the time had come for her to leave for the Undying Lands. Nothing but war was left for her in Middle-earth, and she felt she did not had the spirit to fight it, though she new that the journey would also be tough .

She stayed there for a few minutes staring at the elven forest in the dark, she softly whispered to the wind ‘Good bye Lothlorien.’ She went to an uneasy though heavy sleep.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Tinuviel of Denton's post

“Arilewen, the place is then yours. I know you are older then the others left. Do you want it?”

Do I want it? Arilewen was slightly stunned that she out of all was chosen, but more than anything, she wanted to see Valinor. Weeping half out of joy that she could go, and half out of sorrow to leave the only home she had ever really known, she accepted the frail slip of paper from Tanroth. It seemed such a little thing to carry all her dreams on...

She barely noticed when the meeting ended. And as the other elves made their way out of the no longer crowded meeting, she collapsed against a tree and looked at the note in her hand. In firm script it told her to meet the others going on the journey on the outskirts of Lothlorien after sunrise. It didn't leave her much time to pack, but she sat staring at the note in her hand for a long time before she rose to go to her flet and pack.

Valinor! The Blessed Realm of the Lords of the West had beckoned to her in her dreams, ever since she was young. To speak with the Valar face to mighty face would be enough to fill all the ages of eternity with a wonder vast as the stars of Elbereth. Elbereth! Why, if Arilewen could get up the courage to once speak with Varda Elentari would be the height of rapture.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

ElentariGreenleaf's post

Imthôlion sat in the meeting, looking at the note he had been handed. A sigh escaped his slightly parted lips as the news sank in. His time had come – he would finally leave for the Undying Lands. Had he have been given the opportunity a few years ago he, as had Siralil, would have handed the note to another, for he had loved all mortal folk. Yet, since the beginning of the War, Imthôlion could only find love for one race of mortals – the gentle Hobbits. The ring was safely in the keeping of Frodo, a most trust worthy Hobbit, accompanied by the Fellowship of the Ring, a group of eight others well suited to protect the ring bearer. However, only eight of the nine now remained, for Gandalf ha fallen into shadow. Imthôlion had also heard that one of the Men, a man of Gondor, was becoming corrupted. Imthôlion’s love of men had failed. He saw them now as power hungry, and easily corrupted. They were weak.

So Imthôlion now had no wish to stay in Middle Earth. He had travelled around its fair lands, avoiding the darker ones, and so could find no reason to give up his place on the last ship from the havens. He rose and left the meeting room, for there was now no one to converse with. He kept the note held tightly in his hand, for if he lost it he feared he would not be given another.

The moon was high in the heavens, casting its silver light through the magnificent branches of the many trees in Lothlorien. Imthôlion decided he would walk for the last time both in and below the trees. It was a sad, yet happy time for Imthôlion. Dawn would see him leave the woods forever.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Elfwine's post

The Elf held the piece of parchment between two long and calloused fingers. A cream colored ribbon held both ends of the note fast, and veiled the contents. Staring with wide eyes, one filled with wonderment and the other misted over, as always, Solondil reached with the hand at his side to open the letter that’d been given to him. Reading through it quickly, then carefully once again, he swallowed hard and followed the backs of Tanroth and Firiel with a steady grey gaze as they disappeared into the white light. His arms dropped, note in hand, and he cast his eyes downwards. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was it—yet why was he so hesitant, so afraid, so dreading?

Letting out a wary sigh, he folded the piece of paper into a minuscule section of what it could expand to, and murmured a silent prayor. Nodding to the others honored, he placed the note in his breast pocket and turned on his heel, leaving the meeting hall with a furrowed brow. Where the wide path continued on to his quaint home in the glowing city, he took a hard left towards where the trees grew thicker; denser. Olive-hued cloak sitting comfortably a top his narrow shoulders, he left for a last walk among the mallorn.

Tomorrow at sunrise.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Elennar Starfire's post

Dunaire looked again at the note in his hand. Valinor... He would be leaving Middle-Earth forever. But soon, all the elves would leave, he would only be leaving sooner. Yes, he was ready. He refolded the note, and began to pack.

Afterwards, as the sun was setting, he walked among the mallorn trees, saying goodbye to Lothlorien. He picked up a fallen leaf and carried it home, where he put it carefully in the bottom of his pack. He would keep it forever to remind him of Lothlorien, Middle-Earth, and all that he was leaving behind.

The next morning, before sunrise, he went to visit Lalmion, his friend, who was staying behind.

"You are leaving, then?" Lalmion asked, seeing Dunaire with his pack and traveling clothes, leading his horse, Muinanar.

"I am," Dunaire replied, "but I must leave Muinanar behind. Will you take him?"

"Of course. Namarie, then."

"Namarie."

And Dunaire walked off to Tanroth's house to meet the other travelers.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Jack's post

Erfalas stared at the slip of paper. His ticket to the Grey Havens, it was a little unsettling to be picked only because you were old. And yet… he was excited he had to admit. He sat still reading and rereading the paper.

Erfalas looked over his bare room. There was little he wanted to take with him. His dark, coarse cloth bag sat on his bed, almost nothing in its depths. He frowned, what did you bring on a mission? A loud knock on his door startled Erfalas out of his thoughtfulness.

“Erfalas, your going to the Gray Havens!” Gallion said excitedly. “Do you need any thing? Help? Food?”

“Food! That’s what I forgot!” Erfalas said loudly, clapping his friend on the back.
Gallion dragged Erfalas down the winding stair and into the large kitchens.

Later Gallion sat on Erfalas’s bed and ate an apple and Erfalas sat on near the window. “Are you takeing Gold Flame with you?”

“No… no horses, its in the letter, note, thing,” Erfalas dug in his pocket and handed it over to Gallion.

““We will leave tomorrow after sunrise. Please meet us by Tanroth's house. It's located on the outskirts of Lorien. From there we will go North-West. Take with you what you need, but not more. The journey will be difficult and perhaps dangerous.
Horses will not be needed, not now anyhow. We will travel by foot

~~ Tanroth and Firiel” That’s nice… and nice…” Gallion said slowly.

“My words exactly!” Erfalas smiled.

~ * ~

The next morning:

Erfalas stretched and yawned. Dreams were distracting and he didn’t want to sit up staring at the stars. Dressing quickly Erfalas picked up his bag. He slung his quiver over his shoulder and picked up his bow. His sword was in his pack. Stepping out of the arched doorway, he nearly ran down the stairs, he was more excited than he would admit. Gallion was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him.

“I can’t let my best friend leave with out me to see him off,” Gallion said in answer to Erfalas’s questioning look. Gallion smiled and flipped his blond hair out of his face.

Erfalas smiled too and pushed his dark hair out of his stormy gray eyes. “Thank you Gallion,” Erfalas said adjusting his light grey cloak. “Well?”

“Anxious are we?” Gallion asked, laughing.

“Yes so lets go!” Erfalas said and he and Gallion walked down the path towards Tanroth’s home. The the friends set of across Lorien for the last time.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nilpaurion Felagund's post

"Grey Havens," Rostion thought to himself. "Long should I have been there, to be with my family." He then snapped out of his reverie and looked for his sword.
"But, if not for Firiel, I would not be leaving. I would say behind and fight the foes of Lorien." He slung his bag on his shoulder, and sighed.

"Well, my time here has come to an end. I must go now; they might be already there."

He went outside his home, where Firiel stood, waiting for him. They walked in silence to the outskirts of Lorien, to the house of Tanroth.

[ October 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth stood outside his cabin, which would no longer be his after this day. The sun was rising as Tanroth gazed towards the sparkling sunbeams, pressing up and over the hills. The leaves in the trees of Lothlorien murmured in the wind, which swiftly came by and by. As he stood there, watching the beautiful scenery of a wood that had been his home for ever, he realised how much he would miss sitting in the grass a summer day after a hard day at work. He had often dreamed of getting away from Lothlórien, just a day or two. However, now, when he really was leaving, he felt sad by this thought, but thought of his lost family and how merry they're meeting would be.

"Ah, Rostion, Firiel!" he cried out, when getting the first glimpse of the Elves, journeying with him.

The couple approached, looking happy and eager. They, as Tanroth bore their weapons, which Tanroth thought would come in hand. After all, Sauron's forces were gathering, and therefore he knew as perhaps the others that they had much to fear on this journey.

He gave a sigh as he shook Rostion's hand, while taking Firiel's hand, kissing it gently. "I am really glad to have you two by my side on this ....." he didn't get to finish his sentence before Arilewen, Dunaire and Solondil came springing towards them, obviously very happy to be there. Minutes later, as the sun had raised for real, the others made it to Tanroth's cabin as well.

They gathered around Tanroth, waiting for him to speak. The wind made one final swish before Tanroth at last spoke.

"Dear friends," he said taking a very deep breath in the cold air. "We must all say our farewells to the fair woods of Lórien, because after today we will never see our homes again." He paused, feeling his heart beat like never before.

"Now, let us part, the ship is waiting for us. We will take our leave by going west, to the outskirts of Lorien before we will make our way over the Redhorn Pass in the Hithaeglir (Misty Mountains.) "

With these words, the Elves started walking. Having a last look, cast towards his home, Tanroth went in the lead, having Firiel and Rostion on his side.

[Jack]

Erfalas looked back at Gallion who stood watching them as them made they made their way away from Lorien. He waved and Gallion waved back. Erfalas sighed; he wasn’t leaving behind many material items but he would miss Gallion, badly!

Thinking back to Gallion’s last words he frowned, “Be careful! Sauron's are at work. Don’t go off by yourself and don’t try to be a hero!” The words echoed through his mind. He was a little nervous now but what kind of idiot did Gallion think he was? Of course he would stay with the other elves. Who was he to question his leaders!

Adjusting his cloak again (he had developed an anxious habit) he realized he had fallen behind the others. Sprinting a little he trotted along at the end of the line. He turned to get one last look at Lorien, he home. He smiled at the sight, the beauty of the trees of Lorien was a sight to see he paused for a moment so he could remember it always as he saw it now. Turning he bumped into Imthôlion.

"So sorry Imthôlion... I didn't see you there," Erfalas apologized. He adjusted his cloak again and catching himself at this activity he placed his hand at his side.

[ October 14, 2003: Message edited by: Jack ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Rostion was walking in thought, his eyes straying this way and that, to the trees, to the grass, and to the fair land he was leaving.

He thought of Lothlorien, and all the memories that he had, good and bad. He thought of his brother, and then one word filled his mind: Sauron. His evil is slowly filling Middle Earth. Will the roads to the Havens be safe? He snapped out of thought and looked to Tanroth.

"Do you know the lands we pass through? It's been so long since I left Lorien, and I was thinking of the perils along the way. Sauron's arm has grown long, and Saruman's treachery has shaken me. I fear the unknown road we are treading."

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel looked backwards. She was leaving her home for never to return. It was a bit sad, even though she knew she would go to Valinor, the Undying Lands. But then again, she had so many memories from Lorien, so many good memories. She was afraid to 'loose' them when she left this place. She gave a short sigh, as the wind gave a swift breeze. She felt it around her face and down her back. She shivered, but still, it was a lovely feeling.

She looked upon Rostion. She had this feeling that she was safe. She always did around him. Firiel was very happy that Rostion, her husband, would be with her the whole time. And in the end of this journey they would be together in Valinor...for ever...

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion sighed. He had many a time dreamt of when he would sail to Valinor, but he had never truly believed that day would come. The fair wood, upon which he now looked his last, had been his home, his place of sanctuary. Surely this is all a dream! he thought to himself. I have been chosen to sail from the Havens, as I have often dreamed I would. But yet, this is a sad time to leave, as our lands our about to go to war. I will miss this fair place. Thank you Elbereth, for allowing me to be in this group of elves, who walk now their last journey.

The elf waited as the others said their goodbye's, then turned to leave. A journey of a thousand leagues begins with a single step, he thought as he began walking. He let his hand gently brush any tree or plant he walked past. He would never see Lothlorien again. Imthôlion was sad, but the joy of knowing he would finish this journey in the Undying Lands was far greater than his sorrow.

[ October 16, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire closed his eyes and sighed, then quickly reopened them so as not to trip or run into anything. He looked back once, but all he saw was the golden leaves of the mallorn trees, for they had passed the borders of Lothlorien. He did not look back again.

He knew that there would likely be orcs or goblins along the road, and hoped that they would only be an annoyance, not a major problem. He would prefer to avoid fights, but didn't have much hope that it would always be possible. He overheard Rostion talking to Tanroth, speaking feelings that Dunaire shared.

"Do you know the lands we pass through? It's been so long since I left Lorien, and I was thinking of the perils along the way. Sauron's arm has gone long, and Saruman's treachery has shaken me. I fear the unknown road we are treading."

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: Elennar Starfire ]

[Elfwine]

A wry smile that barely rose one corner of his mouth hid his emotions, unclear, behind a mask; well worn, and well used. His eyes, both the clear and the clouded focused upon Tanroth, and only Tanroth; perhaps, every now and then, straying to eye the others chosen. Since he'd left his quaint house in the beautiful city that was his home, he hadn't, and planned not to look back. But this plan was bound to fail.

Nodding approval of Tanroth's short and emotional speech, Solondil's high and narrow shoulders dropped, and he let out an inaudible sigh. Pursing his lips, he glanced back towards the thin and winding path, and in the light-laced arch the trees made in the distance, he saw people and places; memories past. Tilting his head to rest his wary gaze on the horizon, he furrowed his brow and frowned, for one minute, allowing his true emotions to seep through his once undefeated mask.

[Enif]

The day that Erkaliel most feared had come, the day when she would leave for the Undying Lands, the day she would leave behind the land that she fought so many times not to leave, now she would give in.
As Tanroth made his brief speech Erkaliel looked at the faces of the others that had been chosen, she watched as Tanroth’s lips moved but she heard no sound coming out of it. The only sound she could hear were echoes of the past, and the echo of a question she had made to herself, “Is it the right thing to do?”.

She was trying her best not to show her true fillings, but her sad gray eyes where immediately filled with tears once she realized that this time she wouldn’t come back, though she knew that she had nothing to go back to. She quickly wiped away her tears, and hoped no one had noticed them. She wondered if all the years spent fighting not to leave this land where in vain.

Erkaliel fallowed as the elves started walking towards their uncertain destiny, she didn’t pronounce a word nor did she look back she simply walked as if hypnotized, lost in the sadness of doubts that disturbed her mind. The only thing that she was certain of was that their journey was going to be both, dangerous and tiring, but that did not worry her.

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry--I'm going to cry, ran through Arilewen's head over and over again as the elves began their journey. She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead, not wanting to look back at the land she'd known for so long and disgrace herself once again with the tears that threatened.

It didn't work, and she suddenly realized that her face was moist with the tears that had been flowing for some time. She grimaced and took out a bit of cloth, furtively wiping away the crystalline droplets that trickled their lonely way down her cheeks, but they kept coming 'til at last she sighed, and gave it up as a lost cause.

Watching the other elves, she wondered that none of them seemed to be happy that they were at last going to Valinor. Gloom, rather than joy, seemed to be the prevaling emotion. And a trace of fear. Instinctively, she moved closer, wanting to shield herself from the forces that cast a shadow over this journey. Unconsciously, her steps carried her closer to Solondil and, not for the last time, she wished the journey safely over, and that the group were already aboard the ship.

[Novnarwen]

Camp

The Elves walked for hours, only having small breaks now and then. Tanroth was worn out by the time they reached the edge of the forest of Lórien, and a small plain appeared. The day had already grown old, and Tanroth wondered if he had pushed them too hard. They would have to hurry if they were to eat and set up a camp before nightfall.

Tanroth looked at the others, who were obviously tired too. "What do you say to make a camp now, and rest. We'll be by the mountains tomorrow anyway," Tanroth announced turning his head towards Firiel. Firiel agreed at once, the others seemed to think this was a good idea as well.

They helped each other with the different tasks such as: setting up the actual camp, where they could sleep and preparing the food. Dunaire and Arilewen went to get wood for their fire, and came back a little later with arms heavy loaded with dry tree materials. Rostion, Firiel, Tanroth and the other elves, did the other practical tasks to get a nice, solid camp.

About half and hour had passed when the Elves settled themselves around the fire, having set up a camp. They certainly deserved a meal; their first real meal this day. Lembas and tea was served, and all ate eagerly, as if they hadn't seen food at all. Tanroth sighed as he finished eating. He sipped the rest of his tea, raised and went to take a little walk. His feet were sore, but he wasn't to complain. An even rougher road was upon them, before they would reach Tharbad. "After the city of old, everything will be quite easy," Tanroth muttered to himself, having a comforting tune is his voice. He made his way back to the others, settling himself at the same spot he had been sitting moments before.

As the sun sank down behind the mountains it grew slightly cold and a little breeze came over them. Some huddled together, holding their thin fingers over the hearth of the fire; in that way, getting warmth to their fingertips again. "Look at the stars!" Erkaliel burst out, having her head turned upwards. The stars shone brightly over them and cast a dim light over the company outside the forest. They all muttered, or at least it sounded ike everyone muttered, something about how beautiful the stars were, and that they were the most pleasant and wonderful gift from the Valar, given to middle-earth and it's people.

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel was very pleased that the elves had set up a camp before the nightfall. She was quite hungry and it started to get cold. As the camp was set up, all of them gathered around the fire, warming their cold bodies. They all had a nice meal and they discussed the journey that lay in front of them. They all felt this queer and mixed feeling of excitement and wariness. None of them knew what was before them. They knew however, that they soon had to do some mountain climbing, and that would be dangerous. They were already at the edge of the forest of Lorien. They could all see the high mountain.

As the evening grew on Firiel and the other elves talked merrily to each other. The conversations and stories seemed endless. Soon, however, Firiel got tired and wanted to get some sleep. But as she was getting up Tanroth gave a short nod that she would just have to stay a couple of more minutes, he had obviously something important to say.

Firiel seated once again and tried to listen, but she was too tired to pay attention to what Tanroth said. As a matter of fact she almost fell asleep but Rostion had wakened her in the moment she doped off. Meanwhile, Tanroth had mentioned that the group would head for the mountains towards the Red Horn pass.

"We will walk along the course of the Silverlode River. Then we will come to the entrance to Kazad-dûm, Mirrormere." Tanroth had said while they had been sitting by the fire. All of the elves had been listening carefully- Well, except Firiel-
So they wouldn't miss any details about the journey. Tanroth looked a bit worried, but he seemed to have it all under control, for now anyhow.

He continued he didn't look that worried now, though: "Just beyond the Mirrormere is a path that goes up to the Redhorn Gate. It's called the Dimrill Stair."

When Tanroth had finished the elves just looked on him. None of them said anything for a long time; all of them seemed to be in deep thoughts. The silence however, was broken when Rostion started to sing…

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"How lovely the handiworks of Elbereth are..." Rostion whispered. He was at awe at the sparkling lights, as though he had just awakened from the waters of Cuivienen. Then from his heart a song rose up.

I walk in paths of grass so green
Under the trees of leaves golden
Out to a world I have not seen.
For now we sail across the Sea.
O Lorien, Lothlorien.
My heart is blessed for I have seen
Lothlorien, sweet Lorien.
Your memory will be in me...

[Jack]

Erfalas crouched near the fire shivering slightly. The darkness spread, curling around them. The stars glittered. Erfalas felt alone. The little bit of tea he had left in his cup was cold but he drank it anyway. Then he sighed, tomorrow would begin the real adventure. He couldn't wait.

Humming a little song he couldn't quite place he stared up at the stars. Thinking... later he couldn't remember what he had though about but it passed the time until daybreak.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Arilewen sighed as Rostion finished his song. Almost, she would have enjoyed singing something herself, but that was one of the things she preferred to leave to others. Though her singing voice was a clear, sweet soprano, she was shy about singing for anyone else. For the same reason, she rarely danced, leaving such things to the less self-conscious maids. Unforunately, someone, she couldn't remember who on later reflection, had apparently heard her sing before, and called out, "Arilewen, you know some lovely songs; why don't you sing something?"

Blushing from the roots of her hair to the collar of her dress, she shook her head, no. Then Firiel joined the first elf, and soon it seemed that everyone was clamoring for a song.

"Please, Arilewen?"

"Well..."

"Please?"

"Let me think for a moment." She closed her eyes, ostensibly to think of something to sing, but actually to gather her courage before she opened her mouth. She was terrified that her voice would , or that she would forget the lyrics, or...Maybe it would be better to get it over with.

Still with her eyes closed, she began to sing:

Hello, darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains within the sounds of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobblestone
Beneath the halo of a pale lamp, I turned my head from the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a scarlet light
That split the night and touched the sound of silence

And in the light I saw ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared,
no one dared disturb the sounds of silence

“Fools,” said I, “you do not know silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you.”
But my words like silent raindrops fell and echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed to the scarlet god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning in the words that it was forming
And the sign said “the words of the prophets are written on the granite walls
And cavern's halls and whispered in the sounds of silence.”


____________________________________________

Sounds of Silence - Simon and Garfunkel; with changes by Tinuviel

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire listened in silence as Tanroth described the road, and as the others sang. He sipped his tea, and looked up to the stars again.

Will the stars be the same in Valinor? he wondered. He finished his tea, and Arilewen finished her song. Maybe I should sing something, he thought, trying to think of something to sing. But he was very tired, so he lay back, and soon was asleep.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

After finishing his song, Rostion was silent. He continued to look up, at the black vaults of the nighttime sky, littered here and there with stars. He listened to Arilewen, her voice dancing in the air, whispering to him things of silence...and sleep. He was succumbing to sleep, but before he did, he looked to Firiel, who was in deep thought. Rising from his spot, he approached her, and whispered to her ear.

"It is time to sleep now. Tomorrow may be unpredictable."

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion did not speak much as the company ate and shared tales. He did murmur something about the beauty of the stars, as they all turned their eyes skyward, and said some words of praise to one of the other elves as they finished a tale, but it was not until Arilewen sang her song that he said more than five words at once.

“Your song was wonderful, Arilewen,” said Imthôlion. “You have a wonderful singing voice.”

“Thank you,” replied Arilewen. “I never have liked singing in front of others. I always fear I shall get something wrong.”

“Nonsense!” said Imthôlion with a smile. “I have heard you sing before, on those rare occasions when you sang in public, an you never got a note wrong.” He sighed, a deep and thoughtful sigh. “It seems strange that we shall never see the younger elves grow in knowledge and wisdom. I shall miss Lothlorien, with all my heart, yet I cannot be sorrowful, for we travel to a place fairer by far.”

“I know what you mean,” said Arilewen. “It is strange, so very strange, to be leaving the place you have for so long known as home. But be joyful,” she added with a smile, “for we shall see Valinor before long!”

Imthôlion heard Rostion say to Firiel that it was time to sleep, so he said goodnight to Arilewen and found a comfortable place to sleep. He looked up at the stars, and sung a song about Elbereth, though in his head for he did not wish to disturb the others. Before long the darkness of sleep replaced the darkness of night.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[Elfwine]

Solondil sat on the soft, black earth, opposite Arilewen and Rostion and the others testing their voices against the roaring silence of the night. His arms balanced on his high knees, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes both resting steadily on the flames lapping at the star-scattered sky above. As his fellow elves serenaded the fallen dusk, the knot in his stomach, the warning in his mind, the rending of his heart seemed to melt away into the flickering shadows bred of the flame.

He sat still and silent, never flinching, never faltering; his eyes like two set jewels full of firelight. Tomorrow, tomorrow the real journey would begin.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth was one of the last elves to awake the following morning. After the long evening with songs and tales, it felt odd to get up this early. However, it was better to get going now, than wait until it got mid-day. At that time, they would be exhausted again, before they had started walking.

The fog surrounded them, and laid its’ arms thickly around the group. He rose, rubbing his eyes before he could see clearly. The Elf settled down by the fire, letting the fire warm him. Firiel served breakfast, and urged them all to eat as much as they could; a long a rough road was ahead of them, they would certainly need it.

Tanroth ate as quickly as possible. He was already a bit embarrassed by the thought of him being the ‘leader’, and in addition to this: the one being late. However, he packed as quickly he could, and with the help from the others, they were ready to set out for a new day.

“I think we’ll reach the Mountains sometimes between mid-day and afternoon if we walk in a good pace. The fog though, concerns me. However, make sure that we stick together.”

With these simple words the group of Elves gathered around, putting out the fire, and then leaving as little traces after them as possible. Firiel, Rostion and Tanroth took the lead, but had Erkaliel, Arilewen behind them. “Did you enjoy your sleep,” Tanroth asked Rostion. The elf looked at him in surprise, before they broke into laughter. “The sleep I had was pretty enjoyable,” Tanroth said, having a tune of sarcasm in his voice. Firiel slowed down, having Arilewen and Erkaliel to catch up with her.

*******

The morning started to grow old, when they heard the Silverlode River. Its’ dripping was heard far off. The long river, which they were to follow, would later lead on to Kazad-Dûm. Tanroth had at first started wondering whether the River had 'moved'. But then, he realised that they were only approaching the river. Still, a few miles lay in front of them before they could enjoy its' cold water.

After a few hours walking, Tanroth decided it was best to have a break. He had felt tenseness between the elves in the group. It was if they were all very sceptic, just like him. He tried to hide it though. Somehow it felt like there was something coming. The fog was thick, and seemed never to let go of them, besides there was something bothering them, or at least him. What lay ahead, he was unsure of. And his worry about not reaching the ship was also growing on his mind. The Lady herself had told him that they didn't have much time. By this thought, he panicked, and urged everyone to pack up as soon as possible. "No time to lose?" he announced, taking steady steps away from the little resting spot.

Firiel caught up with him, looking very suspiciously at him. "What was all that about?"

Tanroth didn't reply, he just made a grimace, telling the group to set speed again.

[Jack]

Erfalas shivered in the thick fog. He wished it was a better day, warmer maybe, to set out on the quest of a lifetime. He had never been this way, any way out of Lorien for that matter! Following the others would be easy, he hoped.

He hummed the little melody again... he was beginning to think he hadn't heard it anywhere. Every time he hummed it seamed to change a little. Maybe he was musical after all, the thought made him smile. He couldn't sing very well for an elf and his compositions never rhymed. He was hopeless his mother had said, she had been a very talented composer and performer. He smiled again.

Realizing he had fallen behind the others he hurried forward and succeeded in nearly knocking Firiel down. Erfalas blush a bright red and murmured his apologies. He decided he would have to be more careful about his clumsy streak. He had ran into two people so far and he hoped he didn't run into any more unsuspecting elves!

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: Jack ]

[Orofaniel]

"What was that all about?" Firiel asked Tanroth. His eyes didn't meet hers. He tried to look away but Firiel followed. No reply came what so ever. She gave a short sigh. She knew the look on his face; he was worried and being sceptical about the whole thing. Tanroth was a man that usually took things quite serious, and this was indeed an important journey. Firiel did understand the pressure that was laid on Tanroth shoulders. But then again, she knew nothing about it. It was he that had gotten the quest from The Lady, no one else.

She sighed yet again before Tanroth turned to the rest of the elves, urging them forwards in the thick fog.

Firiel felt a gentle grip around her arm. It was Rostion. "I thought I lost you," he said while giving a short laugh. Firiel laughed as well. "Of course not...I'm right here." Firiel replied while she grinned.

"Why did we have to pack up so early," Rostion said after they had walked for a couple of minutes. "I mean, wouldn't it be wiser to stay at a resting place until the fog has lighten up? It's very easy to "loose" someone in this kind of weather." Rostion continued.

Firiel listened to what Rostion said. She agreed with her husband. It was true. It would be easy to "loose" someone in the thick fog. And of course it would be wiser to stay at one place until the fog had lightened up. She was silent for a moment before replying: "I agree with you. I don't think this is a very clever thing to do as well. But Tanroth is our leader; he got this "quest" from the Lady for a reason. The Lady trusts him to lead us to The Heavens and to Valinor. We must follow him and trust that he makes his decisions based on his reasons. Maybe he has something planned, I do not know...." She gave a sigh before they both noticed that they had stopped walking. They hurried after the others, who were in front of them.

Before Rostion and Firiel reached them Erfalas almost managed to knock Firiel down from behind, by inncident of course. He had murmured his appolugiese and decided to walk next to them.

"Thick fog," Firiel said while looking on Erfalas.

"Aye," he replied loudly.

Sooner or later they reached the three elves in front of them. Erkaliel, Arilewen and Solondil were talking merrily to each other and seem to have no worries about the thick fog or Tanroth's decisions.

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth trudged on, taking no heed or notice to the looks some of the other elves gave him. He was too worried; the fog, the ship, everything! How come he was stuck in this situation? For a moment he hesitated, and even felt regret, sneaking up in his mind. He shook his head, and cleared his thoughts. No way could he think of such things, in the middle of a mission. He remembered the Lady's words:

"I didn't choose you to fail. The intention was quite the opposite." By this thought he calmed, trudging on, and again urging the others to walk faster.

It didn't take long time before the group finally began to see the Silverlode River. It was a long river which stretched itself long ahead. Tanroth tried to look forwards, now seeing the mountains grow bigger. The fog lay thick though, and the elf could only guess that they were about one and a half hours walk from the mountain's bottom.

"May we take a rest?" It was Firiel who had sprung up on Tanroth's side. He looked at her, but didn't say anything. He just gazed towards the mountain's direction, giving a small nod at the lady. She took it like this, a positive answer to her suggestion, and announced that everyone could sit down and take a break. Meanwhile the others sat down, muttering about how tired they were, Firiel took Tanroth's arm, dragging him a few steps away from the rest.

"You are driving them and me, very hard," she said being harsh, but also saying it politely.

These words hit Tanroth, and it became quite obvious what he had done. He had let his doubts and his worries affect the others. He had totally forgotten that these Elves were not his servants, he was only their guide. In a way he became ashamed by these thoughts. Maybe he was being too controlling or maybe just desperate. This was blinding him, and currently maybe keeping him to achieve his goal, which was currently these Elves' goal too. He hadn't even been taking council with the others. On the other hand, was that really necessary? Tanroth pondered about this before he answered the lady Firiel:

"I suppose you're right. But I think it's important that we are up, and well up in the mountains before it grows dark. In that way, we won't need to camp there two nights."

"What makes you think it's important to only have one camp in the mountain, when it obviously would be easier to have two?" Firiel asked. She sounded as if she doubted Tanroth's judgement, which he could understand. Though, he was kind of unsympathetic to why she couldn't understand why two camps in a Mountain were better than one. After all, it was foggy and in the Mountains there was snow. And, least but not last, he was concerned. However, he didn't tell Firiel about the last thing, he had been filled with concern about something or someone threatening them.

The two of them looked at the others again, agreeing after a long explanation from Tanroth's side that this, about the camps, was probably a good idea. But would everyone else agree to this? Not to have a real camp before they were well up in the mountains.

"We'll have to walk for another 6 hours perhaps to reach that goal," he added. Firiel didn't hesitate; she walked away from Tanroth, announcing the suggestion Tanroth had just been explaining her. He wondered how the others would react, since they seemed so tired and since the fog still lay thick.

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

When the elves had almost reached the Silverlode River, Firiel wanted to take a break. She could see that the others wanted to have a short break as well. Her husband, Rostion, had also agreed that it would be wise to have a short rest now. She sprang up to Tarnoth side and asked him politely: "May we take a rest?"

Tanroth didn't answer right away but he gave a short nod. The elves were now muttering something about hurting legs, how tired they were and how hungry they were. Firiel used this to have a one-to one talk with Tanrot. She took him by the arm and led them out of sight to the other elves, who were now seated on some stones.

"You are driving them and me very hard," Firiel said trying not to sound too harsh.

Tanroth seemed to be in deep thinking. He remained silent for a moment.

"I suppose you're right. But I think it's important that we are up, and well up in the mountains before it grows dark. In that way, we won't need to camp there two nights."

Firiel didn't know what to say. Why was this important? She didn't know the answer so she asked him: "What makes you think it's important to only have one camp in the mountain, when it obviously would be easier to have two?"

Tanroth did his best; he tried to explain his concerns. At the end of the conversation Firiel shared the same opinion about the whole thing as Tanroth. He was correct, it would b wise to only camp once in the mountains. The only thing that mattered now was if the other elves agreed to this as well. Firiel was uncertain if they would do so, but they had to ask anyway.


"We'll have to walk for another 6 hours perhaps to reach that goal," Tanroth added at the end. Firiel left Tanroth as soon as he had finished. She went over to the others to tell them what they were going to do.

Firiel cleared her throat as soon as the elves saw that she had come back.

"We will walk 6 more hours so that we only need to stay in the mountains one night." Firel said clear and loudly. The reactions from the elves were as foreseen. Erfalas and Dunaire got their feet. Firiel kenew what was coming; protests, tons of them.

"What do you mean 6 more hours?" Erfalas asked Firiel while he gave a short sigh. "We are tired and hungry." Dunaire said shortly after Erafals had finished his sentence. Firiel didn't know what to say, she just looked away, telling them that this was the best thing to do. "If we walk yet another 6 hours we don't have to longer than one night in the mountains."

Erafalas grinned. "And, why is that so important?" He asked Tanroth as he as well arrived.

"It's important because we never know what we may meet in the mountains. What if there should be an incident? This my friend, is the wisest thing to do."

Erfalas turned his back to Tanroth, walking back to the stone he had been seated on earlier. He didn’t look pleased, and so didn’t' Duinare.

Imthôlion raised and went over to Tanroth. He whispered something to Tanroth. Firiel, however didn't hear what it was. Event though elves have keen ears, she couldn't hear the low whispering voice of Imthôlion.

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

“Tanroth,” said Imthôlion. “You push us too hard. Remember that we are not as young as we once were, and Time has caught up with us. Yes, we can still travel further in one day than a mortal can, but we tire easier now. Let us rest. We will travel further if we regain our strength from a break, even a short one!”

“My mind is unchanged, Imthôlion,” was the severe, yet civil, reply. “We travel for six hours yet.” Tanroth new he had made things clear to the elf, and walked over to Firiel.

Imthôlion, who was surprised at Tanroth’s decision, took a seat next to Erfalas and Duinare. The two elves looked angry, so Imthôlion tried to calm them down.

“Friends,” he said. “Tanroth must have a good reason for this. Let us not be angry with him.”

“If he is to push us so hard,” began Duinare, “then I shall not recognise him as leader!”

“Fie for shame, Duinare!” said Imthôlion sternly. “The Lady Galadriel appointed him as leader, as so he shall stay! Would you split the group over such a small thing? You act on impulse and in doing so you risk confrontation in the group.”

“Hush,” said Erfalas. “Keep your words quiet, or the others may hear.”

Arilewen, who had overheard the mutinous conversation despite Erfalas’ attempts to hush the words, walked over to the three elves.

“What you speak of does, as Imthôlion has said, risk confrontation.” Arilewen felt awkward being the only female in the small group. “But I feel that Tanroth is the one acting on impulse, not any one of us. He does not want to arrive late at the Havens, so he pushes us all too hard to gain extra time.” She brushed some of her dark hair away from her stormy grey eyes.

“What if we were to refuse to travel?” said Erfalas. “What would he do then? Surely he would have to stop.”

“I fear that would not happen,” said Duinare. “He would go on without us, knowing we would have to change our minds and follow.”

The group sat in silence, contemplating Duinare’s wise words. There was little they could do, because Tanroth was a leader appointed by one whose decision is always final.

“But why does he fear to spend more than one night in the mountains?” asked Erfalas.

Imthôlion sighed. “These times are troubled, Erfalas. Orcs patrol the mountains, and Tanroth most likely fears they could attack if we are on the mountain too long. An injury to a member of this company could slow us down immensely.”

“But you know of healing, do you not?” questioned Arilewen.

“Yes,” replied Imthôlion. “But my knowledge is limited to minor injuries.”

There was nothing left to say, for now, so the group parted again. Imthôlion stayed close to Erfalas, talking to him of his travels, so that Erfalas’ mind would not wander back to the subject of the six-hour walk. Imthôlion took it upon himself to keep an eye on Erfalas and Duinare, for neither seemed too pleased with Tanroth at the moment. Imthôlion could not predict what their next move would be, but he would stay with them whatever they did, for the fog was thick meaning anything could happen.

[Jack]

'What was I thinking, what was I thinking?' Erfalas asked himself over and over. First he had spoken and questioned the leader, and then he had been angry at him! Well if it came to that he was upset still. He also wished he knew more about the mountains and that his hands were warm...
'I don't know what I will do but I will rest!' but even as he thought it he quaked at the though of going against his leader. "I will!" he said softly and that was the end of it... he hoped he was making the right choice.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: Jack ]

[Elennar Starfire]

Thinking to himself, Dunaire now regretted his harsh words. He had acted on impulse, as Imthôlion had said. He did not believe that it was wrong to object, he only regretted that he had not been kinder with his words.

He understood the wisdom of camping only one night in the mountains, but also knew that if a fight with orcs or goblins became neccessary, they would do better if they were not overtired. Which is the greater risk? He wondered. He resolved to speak with Tanroth about this.

He walked to Tanroth and Firiel, and spoke of his thoughts.

"I am sorry for my harsh words earlier, but I must tell you that I fear what might happen if we were to be attacked while overtired. We might not be able to react as quickly as we would under other circumstances. I hope you will consider this."

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Rostion, who appeared to be tired, had heard all that was going on. Surely there would not be a split in the group, he thought.

"Not now, not while the Dark Lord's power covers the lands, and the only safe place now are behind us, and before us..." He stopped when he saw that Erkaliel was listening, looking at him intently.

"I see what you mean. Lothlorien, which we had loved, is now behind us. The place for us now is the Havens, and what is beyond it. But...we are old already, and our strength does not increase with the passing of the days. We need rest for this long journey, which will be our last."

"Will our lives be the price we pay for a few hours' rest?"

[Orofaniel]

Tinuviel's post

The elves walked for several more hours, surrounded by the white dimness of fog. Arilewen kept hearing odd noises, though she was sure that they were merely products of overactive imagination. The conversation earlier stayed in her mind, and the implication that there might be orcs roaming across their path frightened her. She was no warrior, to slay the foul things, though if pressed she would certainly try.

A cawing to her left startled her. She jumped, then scolded herself for being so timid. This fog was making everyone edgy it seemed. Nervous laughter filled the silence after the birdcall, Arilewen's not least. She still felt slightly embarrassed about singing in front of the group; compliments made her uncomfortable.

Solondil (she thought it was Solondil, anyway. The fog made features difficult to determine.) smiled over at her, explaining that it was only a bird, a crow or raven, most likely. She nodded and carefully studied the ground she was walking over, ostensibly to keep from stumbling.

****

Her feet hurt by the time Tanroth signaled for the group to halt. Arilewen was unaccustomed to walking so far. At home, she had only criss-crossed the forest, though to some, that was far enough. She sat down, noting that the fog seemed to have thinned a bit, enough that she could see the others clearly. A few also sat on rocks, rubbing their equally tender feet while the rest busied themselves with the tasks necessary for setting up a camp.

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Elfwine's post

Though his words to Arilewen were calm, spoken in his hushed, low voice, he could not help acknowledging the shadowy fear creeping forth from the back of his mind and the depths of his heart. With a series of nods and gestures, and a few suppressed whispers, he had the others silently preparing another camp. He himself stooped below every now and then to gather kindling, though he was rather hesitant about the fire all his companions wished for.

The silence that overcame the travelors was an eerie one, that not even Solondil could stand, but with one look at each wary face through the mist held back the words rolling upon his tongue. Now was a time for rest, and he hoped, with all his heart, that they'd find it.

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

The dark grew as the Elves finished eating. The tense atmosphere could hardly be noticed, probably becuase everyone had been able to relax at their new camp. There was heavy smoke from the fire, which annoyed Tanroth. But he wouldn't argue, the fog was already thick. No way, enemies could find them by the smoke, right?

****

They called the night, making arrangements for the night. "I'll stand guard, for a period of three hours." The others nodded, making ready to sleep. "Erfalas, do you mind, coming with me?" The male elf had no objections, and while the others wnent to sleep, Tanroth and Erfalas walked a few paces away from the camp. Here they found a nice spot, where they could lean back to a stone. "I hope I haven't been to harsh as a 'leader'," Tanroth said innocently. Erfalas waved his hand, as if not hearing what Tanroth had said. "You haven't," Erfalas replied, looking into Tanroth's eyes.

"In fact, it's relieveing to have a 'leader' who is determined. It makes it easier for us, when you take the important decisions. I, still am a bit questioning to your issue about the camp, but Iwe won't discuss it now." Erfalas was serious, but nevertheless, gave a small grin. Tanroth grew happy by this, but didn't show Erfalas that. However, it was good for the two of them to have cleared things up, or at least, talked about it. Tanroth had never disliked or had any kind of objections towards this elf, and Tanroth was glad this remained his idea of the elf.

They leaned back, muttering whether they were to see the stars tonight, or if the fog would hide them. Tanroth sighed, enjoying the silence. "Do you think we will reach the ship?" Erfalas suddenly asked. By this question, Tanroth needed to think. To reach the ship, was surly, his goal. But if the group would, that was another question. The Lady Galadriel had told him what the consequences would be, if the war fell on them, sooner than expected. The Lady had by all means warned him; the ship would leave when the war started, even though the group hadn't reached the Havens.

Tanroth opened his mouth to answer Erfalas' question, but hesitated. What was he really to say? This elf, or rather, everyone including himself, would want to reach the Havens. The ship was almost their only way in surviving the coming war. In the war against Sauron and His Servants, they didn't stand a chance. Well, there was always hope, even though Frodo was just a hobbit from the Shire. Tanroth snorted, thinking about this young Hobbit. How brave it was, to set out for Mount Doom, to destroy something which was ...... impossible? What also, came to his mind, was the fact the Tanroth felt running away from a problem, a war! How could he do that? Tanroth straightened up, reminding himself that he wasn't running. He was leading a group, going to the Grey Havens. They deserved this, all of them.

"This is all depending on the war, and the Ring-bearer, perhaps. None of this lay within our power. But we can and will try to do everything we can. This is something we all want, then let's make it together." Tanroth said these words, not just to reply to Erfalas' question, but also to find comfort himself.

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's Character


"This is all depending on the war, and the Ring-bearer, perhaps. None of this lay within our power. But we can and will try to do everything we can. This is something we all want, then let's make it together," Tanroth said and sighed.

Erfals understood this, but couldn't believe his ears. The ship wasn't after all their escape, there was by all means no guarantee for them to get on that ship. Erfalas shook his head. "When do you think the war will come upon us?" The Elf asked Tanroth, with a steady voice. Tanroth gazed at his companion, which made Erfalas unsure what Tanroth would answer.

"The Nine have already set out. The Ring-bearer is followed by them. Orcs have been seen. The war has already started, we just don't ...."

*******SWISH****SWHISH*****SWISH***********

Arrows and the hisses from them flying, surrounded the two elves. They stood up instantly, casting themselves into two directions. Erfalas could hear cries from behind. As he got a glimpse of a creature springing quite a few paces away, he knew that these were creatures - or rather Orcs.

"You must go back to the camp, and warn the others. I'll try to hold them back for a while" Tanroth cried. Erfalas sprang up, making his way towards the camp.

"We are under attack! We are under attack!" Erfalas cried. Erfalas had run towards the camp again, alone. Where was Tanroth? Erfalas found himself standing alone; no one of the others seemed to understand what was going on- or wake up for that matter. He took a wild grip of Rostion, who lay quietly just by the fire. "We're under attack!"

He was stricken by panic, but took his sword and held it firmly. Erfalas could in glimpse Tanroth, finally coming a bit towards the camp, driven by the orcs; who came violently towards his partner elf. The others seemed also to awake from their sleep as Erfalas faced one of the first orcs, who came running towards him, with a deadly blade.

[ November 09, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Elennar Starfire's post

"We are under attack! We are under attack!"

Erfalas' cry woke Dunaire from a dreamless sleep, and he sat up, startled, ducked as an arrow whizzed over his head, and grabbed for his sword. Springing to his feet, he rushed to the east, the direction the cry had come from, though he heard the sound of battle coming also from the west.

Through the fog he could barely see where he was going, snd several times almost ran into a tree, an orc, or one of his companions. There weren't all that many orcs, only about ten on this side, and probably not many more on the western side, but the fog made it difficult to tell who was a friend and who was an enemy. Once, Dunaire mistook Imthôlion for an orc, and only just in time realized who it really was. They then stayed close, and eventually Arilewen and Erfalas joined them.

"Have you seen any of the others?" Imthôlion asked as they arrived.

Both shook their heads no.

"Tanroth went to the western side, perhaps the others are with him," Erfalas said.

Let us hope so.

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Nilpaurion Felagund's post

"We are under attack! We are under attack!" The cry broke the silence of the camp. Erfalas was seen running back towards the camp, where he chanced upon Rostion, who was dozing uneasily. He woke the Elf up, and rushed on to the others. Rostion immediately heard familiar cries. Orcs! he thought, and went on over to Firiel.

Now this was the manner of their camp. The ground is heavily covered with trees and tall shrubs, except for two paths; one leading East to Lorien, where Erfalas was heading for; and the other winding Northwest to Dimrill Dale, where Tanroth was holding off the Orcs. Rostion rushed to Firiel, and attempted to wake her up.

"Wake up, Firiel. You have to wake up."

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel suddenly woke by a strong grip around her shoulder. She didn't want to open her eyes, because she was in sleep. The dream was sweet and she didn't want to leave it...just yet. "You have to wake up," Rostion said while breathing heavily. She got up from her sleep and gazed up on Rostion. His eyes were worried. "Get up Firiel, right away. We must flee!" Rostion said and he got to his feet. Firiel hurried to her feet as well.

"What's going on, Rostion?" She asked while looking at him trying to figure out what it was. Rostion remained silent for a moment, looking out in the air. "There are orcs attacking!" Rostion said looking at her, now almost dragging her out from the elves' camp.

"What must we do?" Firiel asked him. Her voice was thin and she was shaking. "We must follow this road and seek Tanroth. He is standing guar on the Western side." he added.

They went down the small road and then suddenly Firiel saw Tanroth there, right in front of them. The fog was still thick and it was difficult to see how far away the Orcs were.

"Quickly," Tanroth said to them as they got over to him. "I don't know how far away the Orcs are, but they are close." Tanroth said in a worried and deep voice." Firiel and Rostion looked at him whit great eyes. A terrible thought suddenly got to Firiel; they were only three of them! Where were the others?

At this very moment, Solondil and Erkaliel came out from the fog. They had already got to their swords, knowing that danger would come.

"We couldn't find the others!" Solondil said. "I think they went to the Eastern side...." Erkaliel added as soon as Solondil had finished. Firiel understood what this meant, as the others did too. They had been divided into two groups, one on the Eastern side of the cam and the other group on the Western side.

"There is nothing we can do about it now!" Rostion said loudly. "We'll have to fight these Orcs first and then we can go and look for them. There is no time now." He continued. Tanroth gave a short nod. Everyone agreed that this was the only thing that they could do.

As the Orcs came closer, now Firiel could see them with her own eyes Rostion held her hand. "Keep close to me," he whispered. Before the two of them got to say another word Tanroth's voice rose through the foggy air. "Grab your swords!" Tanroth commanded.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion watched the orcs approach from the east, though he could see little of them through the dense fog. He notched his first arrow and released it, having to guess where to aim. A scream and a thud told of an orc's death. Imthôlion's impaired aim was still deadly. Imthôlion and Duinare rapidly fired arrows at the approaching orcs, while Erfalas run ahead with his sword.

“Imthôlion!” cried Arilewen. “Duinare! I carry no weapon!” She darted to her left as an arrow sailed through the air toward her.

“Get behind that boulder,” said Imthôlion, indicating its location with a tilt of his head. “Stay there and don’t move.” Imthôlion continued to fire on the orcs, but now worried about Arilewen. Now with a greater sense of urgency, he and Duinare killed as many orcs as they could before running to Erfalas’ side with drawn swords.

“We mustn’t let any of them pass,” Duinare said as he was driven close to Erfalas by an orc. “Arilewen carries no weapon.”

Imthôlion swung his sword at the orc who ran at him, cutting its head off in one stroke. Three other bodies lay at his feet, but were soon joined by many more of the foul creatures. The three brave elves strove to defeat the orcs, but there seemed so many of them. Cut off from the rest of the group, Imthôlion faced three orcs at once. He was pushed back past Arilewen’s place of hiding, though he did not notice. One of the orcs fell, and then the second was decapitated. Imthôlion looked for the third and pulled out his bow. He fired as he saw the orc raising his sword to attack someone.

Arilewen had been looking away from Imthôlion’s duel, when she felt a callus covered hand grab her shoulder. She tensed, ready to fight for her life, when the grip loosened as suddenly as it had caught her. She turned to see Imthôlion drop his bow and dive out of reach of an orc’s sword.

Imthôlion jumped up and dodged the orc’s attacks as he struggled to pull his sword from its scabbard. The orc’s blood, which covered it so thickly, had rendered the sword stuck. Narrowly avoiding having his hand removed from his wrist, Imthôlion reached for a hefty piece of a tree’s branch that lay on the floor near him. Rolling out of reach of the orc, he swung the branch, hitting the orc on the side of its head, slaying it instantly. He caught his breath while trying to remove his sword from its sheath, but it was stuck fast. Hearing the battle cries of his companions, including Arilewen who had found a dead orc’s sword, Imthôlion picked up the sword of his latest kill and ran to join the main fight. He hoped the fight would not last much longer, for he was tiring.

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's character

Erfalas ran, he didn't know exactly where, he just ran away from the others, in mere terror. As he held his sword high, he faced his first orc. He held the hilt firmly as he swung his blade in a half circle. Without really getting a hit this time, Erfalas put all his effort in the new swing. He sighed, as the sword met the orc's chest. Red blood appeared on the Elf's sword, but he hadn't time to do anything about that before he could glimpse another orc, having its' energy out on Erfalas.

The Elf heard the sound of arrows, swishing around in the fog. The Orc in front of him noticed it too, and turned around being confused it seemed, just as he was hit by one in the neck. It fell down, hitting the ground as he died. Erfalas took a deep breath.

He was caught in the middle of nowhere, fighting orcs in a foggy place. Anxiousness caught him, and held a grip about him. Erfalas had troubles breathing. Everything was just a mess; he was afraid, alone and he could barley see. He stepped away from the body, shaking. As he heard the cries from some of his companions, he made his way through the fog, of the direction he did not know.

He ran again, being sweaty and tired. As he stumbled over another body, this one being just barley alive, he fell. He dropped his sword in the fall, leaving it by the chest of the half dead orc. Everything went black, leaving no trace, of what had happened, behind.

He woke up, not long after his fall, to find himself in great pain; his leg was seriously hurt after his fall. Erfalas bit his lip as he wanted to cry out loud. But he couldn't. What if there were orcs, still around in the area? And where were the others? Had they left him? By this he got angry and sad for that matter. He rose up but lay down again, as he felt the ever growing pain in his leg. He would have to wait, wait for someone to find him, if someone would find him. Someone who wasn't his enemy.

****************

Erfalas heard a faint sigh from the orc, who was currently standing right behind him. He ducked as the orc grabbed Erfalas' sword and waved it, for one purpose only, to kill. At that very moment, there was a new swish in the air. The Orc fell over Erfalas, with an arrow sticking out from his back. "Hello?" Erfalas called as some figures appeared. The Elf couldn't tell who though.

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel

Through the wisps of fog, Erkaliel could see part of the battle being fought. Her own arrows had downed a number of the brutes coming from the west. Thank Eru it was only a small band of the evil creatures which had attacked them.

She slung her bow over her shoulder and drew out her sword with her right hand, and held her dagger in a ready position in her left. It was getting too hard to tell the difference between friend and foe in the swirling mists. Her fighting would have to be done closer in.

To her left she heard someone’s cry. A male voice, muffled in the fog. Turning quickly toward the sound, she picked her way carefully over the rocks. It was one of her companions, she thought, but she could not see him clearly. Daring to raise her voice, she called out to him. ‘Who is there?’

A figure loomed up out of the fog at her, leaping at her, curved blade poised to strike her. The Orc’s cold eyes were fixed on her and she could almost smell the rotten stench that issued from its mouth as it drew near. She closed in on him, her sword ready to strike.

With a cry of rage against the weapons she brandished, the Orc raised his blade high and brought it down in a hard arc against Erkaliel. She raised her sword and her long knife, crossing them above her and caught the brunt of his blow. Staggering against the force of his swing, she threw him back just enough for her to throw her knife into his gut, bringing him to his knees. With a swift and deadly thrust of her sword, she dealt him his death blow.

All was quiet then. She could hear her breathing, made ragged by the exertion of the fight. Erkaliel took a long breath and blew it out slowly, steadying herself for any other attackers.

But none came.

Her ears straining for clues of her companions she stood as still as the rocks that loomed about her . . .

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion lowered his bow, though it had not been his shot that had killed the orc. He and Duinare had approached Erfalas from different directions, and both had taken aim as they saw the orc swing its blade at something. Duinare was quicker to release his arrow, but now they both ran to where Erfalas lay.

“You are lucky, my friend,” said Imthôlion, “that the fog is thinner here. We would not have seen you otherwise. Are you injured?”

Erfalas moved his leg, but winced as pain shot through his ankle. “It is my ankle.”

Imthôlion checked Erfalas’ ankle and found, thankfully, that it was not broken. “Your ankle is twisted,” Imthôlion sighed, knowing it was still bad news. Any leg injury would slow the group down until they got their horses. “I will make a potion to take away the pain and swelling. Duinare, can you boil some water please?” Imthôlion untied a small pouch from his belt and took some lemon grass from it. He crushed it between his fingers and was glad to see it was still fresh enough to serve its purpose. However, there was no chance that the Athelas was fresh enough. Imthôlion went to look for some and, against all odds in the thick fog, he found some not too far away from the others. He hastened back and added the two plants to the boiling water. Imthôlion used a twig to stir the mixture and wished it did not take so long for the potion to be ready – the surviving orcs who had run could return at any moment. After ten minutes of tense silence, Imthôlion poured some of the mixture into a bowl and gave it to Erfalas to drink, chuckling as he saw his friend’s reaction to the unpleasant taste. Taking some strips of cloth, which had been soaking in the healing mixture, Imthôlion tightly bound Erfalas’ ankle.

“Will you be able to walk?” Duinare asked Erfalas. “We must find the others.”

“Imthôlion’s potent mixture has eased the pain to near nothing. I will be able to walk, tough I shall need a staff to lean upon. Ah,” he said, picking up the branch Imthôlion had used as a weapon, “this will do nicely.”

“I must have kept hold off it while I used an orc’s sword,” said Imthôlion. “My sword is stuck fast in its scabbard. I shall have to clean it when we find the others. Come, let us away from this place. I do not have the energy left for another fight.”

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

A last cry from an orc, who fell dead on the ground, was heard as Tanorth found Firiel, Rostion, Erkaliel and Solondil. Together they had faced the attack coming from the western side. "The others?" Tnaroth asked, while looking into the fog. Firiel shook her head. "When we were attacked, the attack came from two sides. I believe the others went in the other direction. But I am not sure." Tanroth stood unsympathetic to Firiel's reply, though he had to realise that they wouldn't be able to find the others now, the fog was still too thick.

"What are we to do?" Solondil asked after a while. Rostion looked up. This was surly a good question. If they weren't able to find the others now, then what? And what if something had happened to them? What if they were hurt.. or.. Dead. Tanroth shuddered, making a grimace. This was up to him; making a decision would be hard though. He shared his thoughts with the others, standing around him. But he left the part about him, being worried about someone being hurt or dead, out. "It would be dangerous to stay in the mountains now," he said. "We won't know how many orcs there are."

"And what if there aren't any more orcs?" Erkaliel asked. Her voice was shaking, either with fear or something else which was bothering her. Tanroth shook his head, showing them his worries. "We cannot simply take that risk. Can we?" Yet again there was silence. Tanroth didn't know what to think. Did they agree, or what? He made his way towards one of the bodies, taking his weapon. "We will need anything we can find if we stay," Tanroth announced in a determined voice. Firiel took a grip of his arm. "The others will be okay, right?" she said, sounding like she was assuring herself, meanwhile really caring about whether the others would and had made it.

"We don't know anything, unless someone saw anything, or heard anything for that matter," Tanroth said and sighed. The others nodded, but confirmed to him that none of them had been witnesses to any of the events concerning the others. "We'll have to decide quickly. We have little provisions and little time, if there are more orcs, they will know about this soon enough." After turn they all gave their acceptance; Tanroth would lead them on, without the others, and without trying to find the camp first. The Elves hoped the others would reach the camp, and bring along their belongings. Unless the other group would find their way back to the camp and meet up with Tanroth's group, they would have even bigger difficulties coming to Tharbad, and get their horses, than expected.

"We should be down by sunrise, if we hurry and walk in a great speed. I hope for all our sakes, that Arilewen, Erfalas, Dunaire and Imthôlion are okay, and that our roads will cross. Now let us leave this battlefield, before it will get even more filled with blood."

Solondil and Tanroth went in the front, talking silently to each other. Firiel, Rostion and Erkaliel seemed still to be in doubt whether this was the best thing to do. Even Tanroth wondered about this, but a decision was made, and couldn't be withdrawn. Not now.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel

The mists lessened as they descended the pass. What once had been a wide, clear path leading down along the shoulder of Caradhras was now a narrow, rock strewn track – a misstep in certain stretches and one could find oneself plummeting down the slope. A few stars peeked through the ragged clouds lending the Elves’ eyes enough light to keep sure their footing, despite the quickened pace of Tanroth.

From the pouch at her belt, Erkaliel took out a fair-sized piece of Elven way-bread. She pinched off a small mouthful and handed the lembas to the Elf in front of her, indicating that he should take some and pass it on. The nourishing energy of the way-bread revived her body almost immediately, and the sweet flavor revived her spirit as it spread through her. Her steps felt lighter, her temperament less burdened with worry.

An old song came unbidden to her lips, and she hummed the tune, then softly sang the words.

. . . Kotirion, Queen of Elms . . .
This season best befits your ancient town
With echoing voices sad that slowly pass,
Winding with waning music faintly down
The paths of stranded mist. O fading time
When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
And early shadows veil the distant woods!
Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
Of grey, their dusk blue mantles gird with bands
Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands . . .

Far below and to the south a thin band of silver caught the moon’s light for a moment and winked into existence, glimmering against the darkness of the land below. Erkaliel paused for a moment drinking in the momentary beauty of the Sirannon as it flowed westward, beckoning.

The moon slid silently behind a wandering cloud and the river disappeared. Having slowed a bit to take in the fleeting view, Erkaliel now picked up her pace, falling close into line behind her companions.

_____________________________________________

Poem is a fragment from The Trees of Kortirion; The Book of Lost Tales 1; J.R.R.Tolkien. Kortirion is a city on Tol Eressëa.

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's character

“Imthôlion’s potent mixture has eased the pain to near nothing. I will be able to walk; tough I shall need a staff to lean upon. Ah, this will do nicely,” Erfalas said as he eyed a branch, which Imthôlion had used as a weapon, during their fight,

Erfalas sighed, halting. After the healing poison given from Imthôlion, he felt better, but still a bit awkward when he walked. He tried not to think about it, but couldn't help the feeling that he was slowing the group down. The group had to reach the camp, and they would certainly need to find the others too. Erfalas sighed again, as he rested; the others also slowed down their pace and took heed.

"After my calculations, I guess our camp will be about in that direction," Dunaire announced, pointing with his thin finger. Erfalas hoped Dunaire was correct; the group couldn't afford to lose more time. And he too, couldn't bear to walk unnecessary distances with his ankle.

After about 5 minutes, they stumbled over what before had been their fire (camp). It was turned out, just recently. "Do you think they have been here?" Erfalas asked, feeling his leg getting better every moment passing. "Nothing seems to be missing," Arilewen assured them, with great wonder in her voice though. Imthôlion held up some of their food provisions, making a grimace. Their drink was still there: everything was.

Dunaire announced: "This can only mean that Firiel, Rostion, Tanroth or Erkaliel haven't been here. No one has." "Then, where are they?" Erfalas cried out, confused over the whole situation. His question was answered with silence in the late night

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Luckily none of them had been hurt in the attack. Firiel had managed to defend herself with her bow. One of her arrows had pierced on of the Orcs in the eye and the Orc had fallen to the ground. It was a terrible sight.

Now, as the moon was up and the fog was beginning to get even thicker than before they first thought of the others. Where were they? They hadn't seen them since the attack had started. Friel and her group had been fighting on the western side, maybe the others had been on the Eastern side. She asked Tanroth if that was possible, and he admitted that he had been thinking g of the same as well. "Shouldn't we go and find them? Firiel asked. "Perhaps they are still at the camp, waiting for us." She added when Tanroth looked away.

"Well, we don't know. And the fog is thick, we cannot risk it. We may be more lost than we are now." Tanroth said while looking at Rostion. He nodded. It was obvious that he shared the same opinion as Tanroth.

"What about you Solondil and Earkile?" Firiel asked when she turned against them. Now they all noticed that they had stopped walking.

"I don't know..."Solondil answered. Erkaliel remained silent for a minute before she gave her answer. "I think we should go and look for the others, but it is, as Tanroth said, too risky. And therefore we cannot do it."

Firiel gave a shot sigh. "Alright then, let’s continue walking." Tanroth took the first step and the others followed.

Soon they came to the cliff sloping downwards. It led down from the mountains into a valley-like scenery. The group stopped and seated. They all knew they had to make a choice.

"So, what do we do?" Tanroth said to break the silence. "We go down, of course. " Firiel said at once.

"Yes, maybe the others will think that we have gone down, and they'll come and look for us. We'll leave a trace here that they hopefully will find." Rostion said. The other elves nodded carefully.

"Alright, Erkaliel and Firiel, can you two make a nice trace so they'll find us?" Tanroth asked and turned to the women. Erkaiel and Firiel nodded without saying anything they found some twigs and made a bonfire out of it. "No Orc will see this hopefully," Firiel said while they made the fire. "They won't either," Erkaliel said at once. "I think the fog is too thick for them to see." She added. Firiel smiled.

When they had finished they went over to where Tanroth, Solondil and Rostion were standing. They were discussion how they would go don' the mountain side.

Rostion turned to Firiel when he saw her coming. "We have decided to go at once before the fog gets even thicker and before the night is upon us." Firiel nodded. "I think that's a clever thing to do," she said looking at Tanroth.

Nothing else was said, they just started to walk. The mountain side was steeping and some of them had problems keeping themselves on their feet. Suddenly they heard a cry. It was Solondil. He was loosing his grip, and his feet were placed on some loose rocks that were reselling underneath him. Firiel who stood nearest Solondil, didn't know what to do, so she just seized him by the arm, hoping he wasn't to heavy for her to hold. "Take my hand," Rostion cried at Solondil.

Solondil gasped as a rock was falling down from above down in his direction. "Take it now!!" Rostion cried again. Firiel was still holding Solondil by the arm, but she was loosing her grip. "I cannot take it." Solondil said as the rock passed him by an inc. "You're too far away!" He cried again.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas and his group

Erfalas couldn't take the silence much longer. How come nobody answered? In a desperate movement, he ran out and into the fog, being about two paces away from the others. "Come on! We must find them!" Erfalas sprang back, after looking in despair into the air. Even though his ankle was still hurt from the fall, he didn't really care; they would have to focus now; finding the others.

"We should camp here for the night. I doubt we'll get down the mountains before sunrise anyway. It's dark, and we won't come far." Imthôlion expressed his worries, while Erfalas thought through what he had just said. The others nodded, agreeing with Imthôlion. Three to one then; Erfalas had to agree too. They slept that night, without further troubles.

Save for anyone who wants a word in this..

[ November 12, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

"Don't let him go, Firiel." Rostion said. "Not yet.." Firiel gave a short nod. "Come on now, switch places with me. Just take a step backwards to the left. I won't let you fall. And f course, don't let Solondil go..." Firiel did as Rostion said, but the weight of Solondil wasn't exactly i her favour. When Firiel had stepped backwards Rostion came and leaped in front of her. He sized Solondil and dragged him up.

It was first now, the elves in front of them had noticed that something were wrong. They came running back to Firiel and Rostion. "Just continue forwards." Firiel said to them. "Everything is fine." Firiel added. The elves looked at her but did as she said.

Before continuing Rstion, Firiel and Solondil just stood there and tried to breathe as normally as possible. They were all out of breath and didn't say anything. It seemed that Solondil was the first one to get his breath back though, and then he thanked them. Rostion shook his hand and suggested that they should continue so they wouldn't loose the others.

~*~

Finally they reached the bottom of the mountain side. The fog was thick there too, but not as thick as the one in the mountains. No one would believe how happy Firiel was to be down on the ground again. The mountain episode with Solondil had been quite frightening, and Firiel felt that she needed some good deal of sleep to gather her strengths.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas and his group, the following morning.

As the morning arrived, they were cold and hungry, but Erfalas insisted on going right away, not wanting losing more time.

Erfalas packed the company's belongings in a hurry, afterwards carrying the two wrapped up backpacks. He gave one of them to Imthôlion, who nodded as Erfalas passed him, going first.

****

Erfalas and the others started walking; him being totally determined on finding the others: "We'll try to get down from these mountains, but all the same look for signs that might imply that the others, belonging to this company, have been here," Erfalas said, now looking at the others, who nodded eagerly as if accepting this. Erfalas noticed the others being more up for it now. He gave a grin before they continued.

They followed a path, which went steadily downwards, winding from side to side. Erfalas had great trouble going down, especially were it was sloping and difficult to know where to put one's steps. He didn't complain though, since the atmosphere already had lightened up several cuts above. The fog was getting thinner and thinner, and this also helped for the group member's to give a smile now and then. However, every time Erfalas's ankle hurt though, he tried to smile as well and not think about the pain.

"Look!" An echo from Dunaire's voice yelled in the mountains. He ducked, growing red, realising how loud he had said it. Imthôlion stared at him, giving him a small hush. "What is it?" Erfalas asked, springing towards the male elf careless of the voice's volume. The man pointed at the ground: "You see that? It looks like one of our fellow Elves hasn't been very light-footed while walking."

On the ground one pace a way, there was a faint trace and another few paces from where the group stood, where another. Erfalas broke into laughter. "This means that at least one of our fellow companions is alive!" he announced happily. The other grinned, everyone feeling a small hope in finding the others alive too. The group followed the traces, seeing them lead exactly where this group was heading; down the mountain.

***********

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

For Erkaliel, joy was tempered with sorrow at the reuniting of the two groups. Joy that her companions once again surrounded her, and sorrow that some of them had been injured in the fight against the Orcs. She herself had escaped any physical harm, but there was a growing doubt now that all of them would come through safely to the Grey Havens. Sauron, it seemed, had marshaled all his forces, and it would be a grim struggle for all against his growing shadow.

Sleep was beyond her. Her nerves were snapping with tension. She sat just outside the circle of firelight from the small camp fire several of the others had made, her sword laid across her knees, her senses alert for any other dangers. There was soft talk among the Elves as they moved about the small camp, and many were bringing up stories they had heard of this region.

Eregion it was called, the land of holly; where even now the prickly leaved trees dotted the countryside, though not as often as they had. In the Second Age it had been a peaceful, prosperous land where Children of Ilúvatar and the Children of Aulë, the Elves and the Dwarves, were friends. Great craftsmen of the Elves were the Noldor of Eregion led by Celebrimbor. Gwaith-i-Mírdain, the people of the jewel smiths, they were named, with only Fëanor, who made the Silmarils, to outshine them in skill.

For nearly a thousand years the Gwaith-i-Mírdain and Durin’s folks worked together. Celebrimbor helped wrought the great West Gate of the Dwarven stronghold, Khazad-dûm.

Then came Sauron and the making of the Rings of Power by the Elven jewel-smiths. The Elves were betrayed in the end, Celebrimbor slain in the great War between the Elves and Sauron, Eregion laid waste. And the doors of Khazad-dûm were sealed against invasion by Sauron’s forces.

Erkaliel shivered though the night was warm, remembering the Elven peoples’ part in the war now being fought in this Age against Sauron. ‘Had we not been so greedy, or yearned so much for more skill and beauty, then perhaps there would be no One Ring and Sauron would have faded from power long ago,’ she murmured to herself.

The stars glittered coldly in the late night sky. Little jewels, set in darkness. They brought her no comfort as she looked up at them.

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Our roads crossed after all then," the male elf announced, while the nine of them were all over-excited about their reunion.

They sat around the fire, in a circle, telling stories. Tanroth tried to keep up, but somehow it didn't interest him. Yesterday's and today's events were troubling him. He had been so worried, not only for Erfalas, Imthôlion, Dunaire and Arilewen, but also regarding the cliff incident. He shook his head, and tried to relax. Everyone was gathered together now, which was the true issue.

The sky turned black with silver dots, when at last the company went to sleep.


***************

When Tanroth woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was to urge the others up, as well. It was important to get moving now; he was starting to doubt this, but didn't confess his concerns this morning. They packed, hurrying to eat a small breakfast. They turned out the fire, and covered their tracks; they would need to be more careful than what they had been earlier; Sauron's forces were moving, moving with great speed....

*********

They walked for two days, hearing the streaming river, Sirannon, which they followed. The Gates of Moria grew near, and the company felt their heart lighten as they knew Ost-in-edhil was close. That evening when they camped, Tanroth told a story about the lost city, Ost-in-Edhil, which was founded by the by their very own Queen Galadriel and her husband, Celeborn.

"It was in the year 750 of the Second Age, Lady Galadriel and Celeborn founded the city of the Elves in Eregion Ost-in-Edhil, on the North brink of Glanduin. This is very near the junction with Sirannon and East of Nîn-in-Eilph. Celebrimbor, who had an exceptional obsession with crafts, like dwarves, " Tanroth paused, as the elves giggled. "Followed in the trail of Galadriel and Celeborn." Tanroth spoke in a deep voice, looking at each and every, to see their reactions towards his story. Many, or rather everyone, knew the story already, but no one had any objections regarding, hearing it again.

"In early tales, Celebrimbor was said to be one of the greatest artificers of Turgon.
He survived the sack of Nargothrond and followed the Lady and Celeborn, when going east over Ered Luin. Soon, Celebrimbor became the most renown smith in Ost-in-Edhil and in Middle-earth. Ost-in-edhil was at that time a city with great Elven- smiths, such as Celebrimbor, and had also close relations with the dwarves in Moria. When the Numenorians arrived at Lond Daer, they founded the city known as Tharbad, which grew in power and might," Tanorth stopped, now only whispering. The others looked up, hoping to get more out of Tanroth and hear the rest of the story.

The male elf continued, telling the others of how Sauron in the year 1200 in the Second Age, came disguised to Ost-in-Edhil. He offered the story about the Elven-smiths, which did not know of this new-comer's hidden intensions, and welcomed the Maia, who tried to pass for being a great teacher within craft. "The smiths in Ost-in-Edhil still didn't know anything, and learned eagerly from their new teacher, who after some time they did get knowledge from," he stated.

He jumped to the part concerning Galdriel and Celeborn, and told the others about how Gladriel and Celeborn however, saw at once who this really was and what his intentions were. Unfortunately they were unable to convince the smiths that this teacher was indeed Sauron. The Elven-smiths were persuaded to revolt against Galdriel and Celeborn by Sauron himself.

Gadriel decided in the year 1350 to leave Eregion, to seek for happiness in Lorien, but this would also mean that she had to enter the Dwarf mines, and go through Khazad-Dum; Celeborn refused this.

In 1500 of the Second Age, the Elve-smiths reached the heights of their skills. It was then the forging of the Elven-Rings began. Sauron deceived the smiths, and made the One Ring to Rule them all. Celebrimbor though, figured this out, and at that time the War between the Elves and Sauron started.

"Ost-in-Edhil was laid in ruins in the late year of 1600th of the Second Age."

Tanroth finished his tale, as the Elves prepared to go to bed. They would pass Ost-in-Edhil in a day or so.


*************

Ost-in-Edhil info source: Annals of Arda (http://www.annalsofarda.dk)

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

The moon was rising and all the elves were sleeping like small children under the beautiful dark sky. The only light that could be seen was the moon light that was slowly fading away as the morning came. Then the sun came and replaced it.

The next morning the elves were walking again. They wanted to reach Ost-in-Edhil as soon as possible. Their next move would be their arrival to Tharbad. There they would hopefully come across some good horses that they would use the rest of their journey, or as far as they needed them.

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

The closer each footstep fell toward the West, the greater her longing became. In this once fair land where now the shadow reached out its greedy fingers she felt more a stranger with every passing league. Where once the light of the Blesséd Lands shone clearly, now all was changing, taking on hues of greys and blacks and she was feeling left behind . . . faded . . .

Erkaliel stayed awake most nights. There is still a beauty in the stars she thought, and in their patterns. She had laid down beneath them, her eyes open to their song, their swirling movements across the night sky swimming in her eyes. It refreshed her for the long days of trekking across the sparsely treed, rolling plain.

No more troubles had plagued them since they left the mountains. Light-footed, the Elves had made good time down the River Sirannon and had just passed the ancient city of Ost-in-Edhil. A short way west of it was a large marshy area, and she looked with hope toward it, shading her eyes with her hand to scan the vast wetlands. From the wetlands they would turn south to Tharbad, the now deserted city where the North-South road crossed the River Mitheithel and went up into the Hobbit lands.

‘Look, Tanroth! Look, Erfalas! Just there among the reeds!’ The two Elves had come up beside her. ‘Nîn-in-Eilph . . . Swanfleet!’ she cried. They looked where her fingers pointed, and there in the middle of the great marsh were two, gleaming white, swans. As if they had heard the Elves approach, the birds took wing, trumpeting a greeting, or so it seemed, before landing further away from the group of travelers.

‘These still are beautiful,’ she murmured, watching them. ‘His hand has not touched them.’ Erkaliel turned to her two companions, a smile on her face. ‘Such a sight! It still gives hope, does it not?’

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Upon stepping in Eregion, Rostion felt strangely...light. Each step was like walking through the clouds. It's joyful to return to your roots, he thought. Despite the melancholy of the setting, with the rubble of the once-fair Elven-buildings scattered here and there, he was in a mood for a song...some silly song now only heard in Rivendell far away. He had one that fitted the occasion, for they were heading for the Firth of Lune, where the ships of Cirdan are harboured...

There was this lady from Lune
Who tried to climb up to the moon.
Climbed higher and higher
But soon out of ladders
And she hit the ground so soon...
_____________________________________________

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

The elves walked as the day grew dim. They had passed Ost-in-Edhil for about four days ago. After they had passed the city they turned westwards and passed a large marsh. They were now turning south towards Tharbad. Since they had been walking fast they would soon be seeing Tharbad there, ahead of them.

~*~

"Where should we get our horses from?" Firiel asked Tanroth as they were walking.

"Hopefully we will come across some good men that will give us horses." Tanroth answered slowly.

"But isn't the city...deserted?" Firiel asked again. Tanroth looked at her and nodded.

"That is what they say, my friend. But I do believe that there are some people left. We just have to count on them." Tanroth said looking forwards. Then he turned and told the other elves that they had to fasten their speed.

Erfalas, and Erkaliel rushed over at Tnaorth's side. Then afterwards Solondil and Imthôlion came.

After they had been walking a few more miles someone suggested that they should take a short break. There weren't much disagreement on this one, so they took as short break befroe continuing. No one said anything for a long time, before Tanroth announced that he knew theses roads and that if he wasn't completely wrong, they would reach Tharbad within a day.

But since the darkness was soon creeping over them he thought that they should make a camp for the night. And if they were lucky they would reach Tharbad the next evening. Everyone was very pleased to hear thi, and it made a very merry atmosphere in the camp.

~*~

The next morning they woke earlier than the sun. They wanted to start walking as quickly as possible.

They continued the road southwards knowing that they would reach Tharbad in the evening they walked with great haste. They didn't allow themselves to take a break this day, until they had come to Tharbad.

Firiel like the thought of getting themselves horses. Everyone did. It meant that there would be no more hurting legs and they wouldn't have to take so many breaks as they had done in the passed. It would also quicker, and they would pass more miles within shorter time than now.

~*~

"Tharbad, my friends...." Tanroth said suddenly. He was now pointing. The elves looked up and realized that Tharbad was there, right in front of them.

The town looked deserted indeed, but it didn't matter, because they were there. Finally. Friel could hear some of the elves laughing behind her as they went through the gates.

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Tharbad, my friends...."

Tanroth announced their coming to the almost abandoned town, Tharbad. Relief and satisfaction came upon the elves as they trudged down the winding path, coming to a gate. The company entered the town itself, after waiting for someone to open it. They entered however, when they found a way to open it themselves. Tanorth sighed, not out of despair, but out of happiness.

"Let's found a place where we can take rest for the night," Tanroth suggested. "We'll be able to pick up the horses the first thing in the morning," he continued, with determination. Everyone agreed at once, grinning as they followed the road.

No man was seen. The old grey houses were located on each side of the road. Normally, Tanorth would have asked the group to take heed, in case someone was eying them, but this didn't really matter now. Most of the houses were abandoned, and others were just simply nothing Tanroth felt he needed to be concerned about.

They walked on, being quiet. Considering the time of night, Tanorth felt weary, but surprisingly enough he felt better as he started thinking about the horses, and that the company would finally get some real sleep. Few moments had passed, after this encouraging thought had left Tanroth's head, when they stood outside a grey old house.

"Thabard Inn."

The sign was originally white as snow, but now it looked dirty. Only thin lines of black, which had faded, convinced the company that this really was a sign for an Inn, Tharbad Inn.

As they muttered in agreement that they were to go in, they were surprised as a man opened the door and stared at them. Tanroth was quick, saying that they only wanted to stay the night. "We're hungry and tired," he added, as he saw the fierce expression in the man's face. The Elves didn't say anything, only waited.

The man waved his hand inwards, showing them the way in. Inside it was dark, but at least lighter than what it had been outside. The Innkeeper lit a lantern, advancing towards the Common Room, where he begged them to sit down. "Nine Elves," the man, named Brander said. He made an expression which showed clearly, that this was indeed something unusual. Tanroth smirked, letting Firiel answer. Women know better than to burst out about everything, he thought.

"Nine elves…. Strange but true," she said, laughing. The others laughed as well, and the Innkeeper seemed pleased with this answer. Tanroth on the other hand, was worried about the fact that this man had taken this seriously. And when the Innkeeper asked them if they were hungry, Tanroth had to make an effort not to reveal his awkwardness. Not more curious than that? he asked himself, thanking the Innkeeper, as he was served a bowl of hot soup with bread.

They ate eagerly, Tanroth kept his eye on the Innkeeper though, just to be sure. No one can be trust anymore.

[ November 19, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel sat at one of the tables in the common room. She’d borrowed a damp rag from the Innkeeper to wipe the layer of dust from the table top. Satisfied with her efforts, she returned the rag and brought back a small cup of wine to savor. She was hoping it would improve the flavor of the small bowl of soup the Innkeeper had brought her.

The wine rolled over her tongue leaving a dry sensation in her mouth. ‘It must have been a poor year for grapes when this poor wine was pressed,’ she thought to herself. Still it was something different than the brackish water they had last gathered to fill their waterskins before heading to this town.

She hailed the Innkeeper to bring her another cup. ‘No, make that the bottle, if you please.’ He mumbled something about seeing her coin first for this special bottle – one of his finest! Erkalaiel laughed and fished out a few coins, more than enough to pay for the drink . . . and some privacy, she thought as she shooed him away.

The window she sat at was dirty; the dim light from the bright moon barely able to penetrate. Erkaliel reached up with the sleeve of her tunic and rubbed clean a small area of the windowpane. Nothing to see really. The one street that ran past the Inn was deserted and many of the surrounding buildings had fallen into decay. ‘Just like this world,’ she mused, pouring herself another glass. ‘It really won’t be so hard to leave, I think.’

The soup was now long finished; the wine beginning to taste better the more she drank. The thought of sleep was far from her mind. She propped her long legs on one of the chairs opposite her and leaned back comfortably. Raising the bottle, she waved it about a bit and spoke up to her companions. ‘Anyone else fancy a little wine? There’s plenty – just bring a glass . . .’

[Orofaniel]

Firiel went over to Erkaliel. She was sitting alone at one of the tables in the common room. She turned to the company and waved with a bottle: "Anyone else fancy a little wine? There’s plenty – just bring a glass . . ."

Some of the elves gave a short laugh and some of them just sat there smiling. Erkaliel had obviously been drinking a few glasses of wine herself.

Firiel got up from her char and seated herself at Erkaliel's table. "Can I have some?" Firiel asked Erkaliel. "Of course you can..." Erkaliel replied and smiled. She poured some wine in Firiel's glass, and after that, she poured some more to herself.

Just moments after, Imthôlion joined them. Even though he just joined them he was almost falling asleep. His eyes were fading away, and they turned blank. It was the moment before he fell asleep, when Firiel said something; “Wake up Imthôlion,” said Firiel. “The moon’s barely up!” She added when she saw that Imthôlion didn't listen to her first comment. He raised his head from the table and grinned.

They talked for a little while about horses, how much better it would be as soon as they would have them. Firiel agreed and nodded many times during this conversation. She as well, thought it was a refreshing feeling to finally get horses.

An hour later Rostion joined them and took some wine.

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion sat with Erkaliel and Firiel as they talked, but he himself said very little. He picked at a piece of bread that was going stale, smiling slightly as he imagined some of the young elvish children mimicking him by saying, “Don’t play with your food, it’s rude.” Oh, how much he was leaving behind! It seemed to the elf that the closer he got to the Havens, the more he was starting to think about what he left behind. Perhaps he was making a mistake…

“…don’t you agree Imthôlion?” said Erkaliel.

“Hmmm,” said Imthôlion sleepily. “What was that?”

“Wake up Imthôlion,” said Firiel. “The moon’s barely up!”

“I said ‘It will be much better travelling when we get the horses, don’t you agree?’” said Erkaliel, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, yes,” replied Imthôlion. “From all my travels I’ve come to realise horses are both a good way to travel and good companions. My old stallion, rest his soul, saved me from trouble on more than one occasion, and he keep me warm on cold winter nights,” he added with a laugh.

“Too true,” chuckled Rostion, as he sat at their table. “Good wine here.”

The others began to talk again, and Imthôlion sank back into silence, picking at the victimised bread. He began to recall all of the good times he had had in Middle Earth, yet his travels around the lands had been cut short by the stirring of evil in the land to the south where the shadows lie. There was still so much to see, yet his heart yearned to see the realm beyond the Havens, to see the great city of Aman. As the moon rose higher, Imthôlion’s eyes began to gradually close, until he took leave of his companions and went to bed. They would be setting out again in the morning and, though they would have horses, he needed to rest now so he would be refreshed in the morning. Ah, to sleep in a bed again, if only for one night! He slumped down upon the bed and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire sat alone, wrapped in his own thoughts. He ate, because it was necessary, not really tasting the food. He had been in a strange mood lately, and he did not know why. Probably just that I'm leaving everything I have ever known, he thought as he sipped at his soup.

A few lines came to his mind then:

Wherever the winding river wanders,
Whenever the stars will light the path I roam,
However my footsteps choose to take me,
Travelling far from the place I call home.

[ November 19, 2003: Message edited by: Elennar Starfire ]

[piosenniel]

Somehow her hand kept dipping into her purse, and somehow the bottles of wine kept appearing in the middle of the table . . . full bottles of wine. Had she been able to reason this out, Erkaliel might have thought that the incident with the Orcs had affected her more than she let on. She might have reasoned that dulling her senses with wine kept the memory of that fight, and others she had been in, at bay.

But to be honest, she was well into her cups by the time she realized that the familiar bottle near her hand was not magic, and had not filled itself of its own accord. And she was certainly beyond reasoning causes for her behavior or even that she should stop drinking at this point.

Firiel was there at her table, and drank a little, as did Rostion. Imthôlion drank none at all, but simply sat picking a piece of stale bread to pieces. And Dunaire sat by himself, wrapped in his cloak and in his thoughts, impregnable. Tanroth was busy with the last spoonfuls of soup. The others she could not see, supposing that they had all gone up to rest.

‘I should get up and go rest,’ she thought hazily to herself. ‘But you’re not really sleepy!’ came another part of her mind. Instead, much to the chagrin of her tablemates, and of Tanroth, who did not wish to call undue attention to their group, Erkaliel stood up from her chair, supporting herself on the edge of the table and grabbed the bottle of wine by the neck. To the horror of the others sitting about her, she clambered quite clumsily to the table top, standing there unsteadily for a moment, trying to get her balance.

Steadiness of a sort achieved, she grinned round the room and clanked her knife blade on the bottle for attention. ‘I’ve a poem I should like to sing you,’ she said, ‘and none of the usual Elven claptrap either. Though I know my share of it.’ She poured herself another glass of wine and saluted her ‘audience’. ‘Now this one comes from a very fine Inn in Bree-land. The Prancing Pony by name. Sung by a fellow with a very fine voice, but I’ll try to do it justice.’ There were murmurs from her tablemates that perhaps she ought to climb down – but she just raised her glass to them and began to sing.

There is an Inn, a merry old Inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

She sang on about the stableman’s tipsy cat who played the fiddle; the landlord’s little dog who told jokes; and the horned cow who loved to dance.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
And the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
And then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Til in the sky the stars were pale,
And dawn was in the air.

More verses, then, on trying to get the poor Man on his way before the Sun tried to rise. How they rolled him out the door and up the hill and bundled him into his Moon-carriage, watching as the horses of the Moon carried him across the sky.

And finally,

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
They all went back to bed!

There was a brief round of clapping as she came to the end, mostly from two old fellows at another table, who appeared as intoxicated as she. And they clapped again, even more loudly, calling out ‘Good show!’ as she fell in an ungraceful heap from the table . . .

_______________________________________

Poem excerpts from: The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late; J.R.R. Tolkien

[Novnarwen]

Tanorth sat alone, being quiet, as usual when thinking. He wasn't too happy about this place, and a feeling of uncertainty crept upon him. He could feel his eye locks getting heavier, and he realised the weariness creeping up on him, also. As he dozed of, he thought about the fair woods of Lotlórien, which he had so eagerly left, for a few weeks ago. Then, he couldn't think about anything else than being here, beyond the woods. Now however, he couldn't help himself thinking of the trees, birds, the Lady and his home, job and his other doings and surroundings.

He snorted as he opened his eyes wide. Erkaliel, who had obviously been drinking too much, was making far too much noise. He gave her a warning, but friendly look. Luckily there weren't too many people around. The Innkeeper was currently at the kitchen, washing up after the company, and the few old men who sat here, were almost sleeping, out of drunk or weariness, Tanroth didn't know.

There is an Inn, a merry old Inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

Erkaliel started, having a clear voice. Tanroth sighed, and decided to go up ad find his room; it was time to go to bed.

The male elf made his way up the stairs, hearing the applause from the audience. Erkaliel had apparently finished her song. He looked over his shoulder, as he opened the door to his room. Although Tanroth was tired, he didn't go to bed at once. He stared out of the window, with empty eyes. Had he failed being the company's leader? This thought swirled around in his head, and the emptyness in him grew. Already, they had been attacked by Orcs, and they were far behind schedule; at least three days! For a moment, Tanroth hesitated, but realised the facts; if they were to make it to the Havens, before the ship would leave, they would have to hurry up. "We must ride with great speed," Tanroth muttered to himself. He lay down on the bed, finally letting sleep take him.

***********

Tanroth woke up, early next morning. Two knocks on the door, disturbed him and he got up in a hurry. "Yes?" he said, while dressing. "It's Rostion," the voice outside called. Ah.. Tanroth thought, as he recognised the Elf's voice. "I'll be down in a bit," Tanroth replied, hearing Rostion feet, leave his door. Tanroth grabbed his weapons and his other belongings and made his way out. The small room was dusty and dirty, the elf was glad to be leaving.

In the common room, the company gathered, eating a breakfast. "Rostion, Imthôlion and Firiel would you care to come with me and get the horses, meanwhile the others pack new food provisions and such?" Tanroth asked, almost commanding it. The three elves agreed, and they left as soon as their soup-bowl was empty.

********

The four elves left the Inn; meanwhile the others in the company took care of the food. "Around the corner," Tanroth said and pointed. The others nodded as the passed an old house, located some 100 paces away from Tharbad Inn.

The Elf knocked on the door, hearing footsteps coming. Tanroth glanced towards the stable, which was located to the right of them, before a man opened it and slid out the door. "Greetings," he said merrily. Tanroth was surprised by this sudden kindness; it was if the man had been expecting them, for long.

"Come with me please," he requested, telling them that the seven horses were fit and ready. "Seven?" Firiel asked, as they arrived the stable. Tanroth had overlooked this part of the man's sentence, but now, when he had found his piece of parchment which was given by the Lady to him, he realised that seven was the 'wrong' number. "I believe he meant nine," Tanroth said, assuring Firiel.

The man, named Garton looked at them, opening the stable door. "Sorry, but I have only seven," he said. Imthôlion made a grimace, showing how displeased he was, but he said nothing. "But it says," Tanroth started, giving the note to the man.

[ November 22, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Firiel- Orofaniel's post.

"But it says..." Tanroth said in a tin voice to the man. Firiel nodded. "Yes, it says that we should have nine horses, sinces we are a company of nine elves." Firiel explained to the man.

"Yes, but you've already picked up two of 'em." The man replied, now seeming a bit grumpy about the whole case. They weren't going to fool him, what did they think? That he was stupid? Oh, no. There had already been two elves picking up two horses.

"What?" Firiel and Tanroth said at the same time, both seeming very surprised over what Garton said. "Two people picked up horses earlier!" Garton said irritated.

"Earlier? When?" Firiel asked again. "I don't know exactly when it was. It was probably 2-3 days ago. It was very dark that evening so I didn't see the two persons properly. They just said that they had "ordered" horses, and I gave them to 'em." Garton said now turning away from the elves. He seemed even more irritated.

"What are we going to do now?" Firiel sighed. She looked at Tanroth then at Rostion. Rostion and Imthôlinon hadn't said much yet; they seemed to be in deep thought.

"Let’s get back to the Inn, tell the others about the situation, and then return to pick up the horses." Imthôlion said.

"No, I think we should just take the horses that are left and then go to back to the Inn. WE cannot afford to loose more horses than we already have. There might be someone "stealing" them as wel, if we leave them behind. I do think that seven horses are better than nothing...." Rostion said. Firil nodded, and expressed that she agreed with her husband.

"Okay, then. We'll do as Rostion suggestion. Seven horses are indeed, better than none at all. We will certainly be a bit delayed though...."Tanroth said and gave a short sigh. "Let us not waste anymore time here. Let us go back to the Inn." Tanroth added.

Garton gave them the horses that were left. He still seemed grumpy and irritated, even though Firiel didn't really have a reason too. It was them that had lost two precious horses. It meant even more delay....She was doubt that they would even reach the Grey Haven before the ship left.

"Who took our horses?" Firiel asked suddenly. The three men that were walking beside her looked at her with great eyes. Tanroth gave a short laugh. "I really haven't thought about that until now, when you mentioned it, Firiel." Tanroth said.

"Maybe some Rangers that have been in town or a coupe of nights....." Imthôlion said, knowing that the possibility of that was small. "Well, we can't exclude anything.." Imthôlion added when Tanroth looked at him. Imthôlion then shrugged, and asked if the others had any theories.

Tanroth didn't say anything for a long time; he seemed troubled though, and upset because of the two missing horses.

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Morning had come awfully early, or so Erkaliel thought. And the sun . . . so bright! She fished through her bag for a pouch of willowbark powder – excellent medicine for the headache that was beginning to nag behind her eyes. No need to get dressed she noted as she stood up from her bed – apparently she’d gone to sleep with everything on, including her boots. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair, and declared it good enough when the last of the tangles was worked through.

The others had already gone down to breakfast. She had heard their footsteps past her door, and their whispering voices as they spoke to one another. Erkaliel stuffed what little belongings she had into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder, went down to join the others.

They were all eating a hearty breakfast, but the thought of food turned her stomach, and she settled for some tea laden with honey. Rostion, Imthôlion and Firiel soon took their leave with Tanroth. Apparently he had a lead on getting the companions some horses. In a way, Erkaliel was glad that she would not have to walk today, but on the other hand, just the thought of plodding along on a swaying horse with a bumpy gait made her stomach queasy.

Once those four had gone, the others were left to find provisions for the rest of their trip. Erkaliel volunteered to get a supply of dried meats they could use in stews, so they wouldn’t have to stop to hunt. Others were picking up some vegetables that were fairly portable – some small potatoes, carrots, a few small onions, and several packets of savory herbs for cooking. Another was getting some grains and cereals they could cook for breakfasts. A sack of apples was also among the purchases to be made for the road.

When she returned to the Inn with her purchases, she took them up to store in her room. Erkaliel lay down on her bed, tired from the exertions of finding the provisions, and tired from her unabating headache. ‘I’ll just rest for a while, until the others get back,’ she said to herself.

Soon, she had drifted back to sleep . . .

[ November 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Okay, then. We'll do as Rostion suggestion. Seven horses are indeed, better than none at all. We will certainly be a bit delayed though...." Tanroth said.

The male Elf couldn't believe this; Two of the nine horses already picked up by someone? The thing he found oddest by this, was the fact that Garton seemed to have no idea whom it was. How could that be? Tanroth shook his head, while taking two of the horses' reins, leading them out of the stable. They had better not waste more time here. Rostion and Imthôlion took two as well; meanwhile Firiel leaded the last brown horse out of the small wooden building. As they started walking towards the Inn again, everyone still looked at Tanroth, questioningly.

"There should have been nine," he started, "I know it," he continued. The others didn't answer, and Tanroth could only imagine what the others might have thought that very moment. For his sake, this was bad news. It was probably bad news for everyone. "Maybe some Rangers that have been in town for a couple of nights....." Imthôlion suggested, but not very convincingly.. "Well, we can't exclude anything.." Imthôlion said, as Tanroth looked at him. The elf shrugged, wondering if anyone else had any theories.

They halted as they saw Erkaliel appear outside of the Inn, waving at them, looking pleased. Tanroth however, doubted that anyone would be really pleased when they arrived at the Inn, having two horses short! How was this even possible, he thought to himself, eying out of the corner of his eye, his companions coming out from the Inn now.

********

"Seven? But we're nine!"

That sentence rang in Tanroth's ears for five minutes before he could answer. "I am sorry, but I thought we were going to have nine horses as well. There's something wrong, I just can't figure out what," he said, trying to straighten up even though he was very disappointed and could hardly keep up his appearance.

"Well...?" It was Firiel, she tried to keep up the spirits by telling everyone about the advantages by having two horses short. "First of all, we'll leave fewer traces than what we would have, if we were riding with nine horses," she started. She continued, still speaking in a merry voice, but none seemed to listen very carefully. At last, Firiel asked if there was someone interested in sitting two on one horse.

"Anyone?" she asked, smiling.

At first no one volunteered, only Firiel and Rostion had agreed in advance that they would ride one horse together. Tanroth was just about to volunteer, but then Imthôlion and Erfalas raised their hands, and volunteered. Tanroth smiled, announcing that this meant they were ready to go.

[ 4:15 PM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post- Firiel

The morning went over to Mid-Day and the elves realized that they had to get going. They had already used much time on the "horse-stable" situation and they were behind schedule, and Tanroth wasn't exactly pleased about this. None of them were actually.

Since there were two horses missing, there had to be two horses that had two riders each. It was decided that Firiel would ride with her husband, Rostion and that Erfalas would ride with Imthôlion

Firiel and Rostion had both left their room and packed their bags. They were uncertain if the others were finished too, so they went down in the common room. There, they found the others. Only Airilewen was missing. She came jumping down the narrow stairs ten minutes later.

The elves didn't hesitate; they left as soon as Airilewen had arrived.

[ 4:15 PM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel threw her small pack behind the saddle and lashed it on securely. Behind it, she secured the two panniers filled with the packets of dried meat she had obtained and the bags of apples. The brown and white piebald horse eyed her with a disdainful look as she drew near the horse’s head to introduce herself. ‘I know; I know. I should have changed my clothes, shouldn’t I? None too fresh smelling for an Elf, eh?!’ the horse snorted and shook her head as if in agreement.

The Elf clambered up onto her reluctant steed and took her place in line. Tanroth led the way, with the horse bearing Firiel and Rostion following behind. Solondil was next, his horse was high spirited and it took him a number of tries to get the beast to cooperate. Erfalas and Imtholion came next, with Arilewen’s mount nipping at the haunches of their horse as if urging it to get along. Dunaire followed, his horse raising his head high as if to comment on the poor manners of the horse in front of him. At the very back came Erkaliel, her mount moving slowly at her request. The Elf’s stomach was a bit queasy from last night’s fun, and she wished as smooth a ride as possible.

‘So, what shall I call you,’ she said as the line of horses started down the street toward the outskirts of the town. The horse swiveled one ear back as if listening to the musings of her rider. Erkaliel eyed the brown color, and remembered the Golden Wood in late autumn when much of the undergrowth turned brown in color. ‘You know – you look just the color of bracken fern when the snow is almost come.’ The horse snorted at this thought, but Erkaliel stuck to her decision. ‘Bracken, it will be. A fine name. And lovely . . . really . . .’

They had fallen a little behind the others, and Erkaliel kicked Bracken lightly in the flanks to catch them up. The horse whinnied a bit and trotted up next to Dunaire’s mount. Erkaliel nodded at Dunaire and asked if he remembered the name of the town they were heading toward. ‘A Halfling town, is it not,’ she asked, wondering what it would be like.

[ 10:05 PM November 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Sitinion and his father

It was late night and the two Lorien elves were about to camp for the night. Sitinion got off his horse and walked over to his father. "Should we camp here?" He asked the other male elf, who was still sitting on his horse. Sitinion didn't get an answer right away, he shrugged and asked again. "A-are we gong to set up a camp here?" he asked nervously. He, himself thought it was an excellent idea, since the dark was about to come. The sun had disappeared into the west and was not to be seen again until the next morning.

Alright, son." The elf said and got off his horse as well. He clapped it on the back, and smiled. He seemed pleased. The smile rolled over his face once more before he said more: "I'm glad we got a hold on these fine horses." Sitinion said as he knew what his father was thinking.

"Yes, so am I son." Siralil replied. ”V ery...foolish, don't you think? Siralil added and gave a short laugh.

"What is, father?" Sitinion asked in a low voice, when he didn't understand what his father meant. "To leave such excellent horses at that old stable...." Siralil said, looking on his son as he was disappointed that his son hadn't understood what he meant right away. Sitinion looked at his father again in confusion. Sirilil sighed.

"I mean, anyone could have taken them. " he added so that his son would understand his point properly.

Sitinion finally understood what his father had said. He swallowed as his eyes turned blank. "B-but....those...horses....Weren't they....r-reserved for Tanroth and the other elves?" He asked curiously, as well as he seemed anxious. He looked on the horse that stood next to him, breathing heavily. The raven black fur was smooth and silky. The eyes were big and dark.

"No, son." Siralil said in a stern voice. All of a sudden rage has passed over his face as lightening. His voice rose.

"The horses were there, son...Because no one anted them! Tanroth and the company should have picked them up for about two days ago, but they didn't. Why should such fine horses go to waste and rotten in that old stable? We saved those horses, son....By taking them with us, we saved them. Unluckily we only had the possibility to take two of 'em." Siralil said.

"..And for all we know, they could all be dead. Tanroth and the other elves.....So, why should we sit and wait in Lorien, for the Lady to announce that the elves didn't reach the ship? And that the ship left, even though it had places left. You have to learn to fight for what you want son!" Siralil added angrily. His face was slowly turning back to normal.

"We did the only right thing....." Siralil said and turned his back to his son. Sitinion shrugged and mumbled something.

"Remember that!" Siralil side as he started to walk towards the trees were they were going to set up their camp.

Sitinion was left alone in deep thought as the moon shone so brightly that it could be resembled with the sun.....

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire looked up as Erkaliel rode up beside him.

"Do you remember the name of the town we will be riding to? A Halfling town, is it not?" she asked.

Dunaire thought for a moment. "Michel Delving, I think the name is," he replied. "Yes, a Halfling town."

He rode in silence for a while, then asked Erkaliel what she thought had happened to the other two horses. "Who do you think it was that took them?"

[ 5:43 PM November 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and Sitinion

"Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that!"

Siralil had been harsh with his words, yet careful. He knew how to treat his son 'correctly' and get him to follow his father's requests. It was important that the boy knew what his father believed in. Siralil made ready to set up a camp, urging his son not to just stand there, but help.

"You can at least help," he groaned.

Sitinion came running over to aid his father, who apparently started to get annoyed. "I am coming," Sitinion said, his eyes lightening with fire. "Just be grateful son," Siralil commanded and started halfway yelling. He told his son that if it wasn't for him they would never be able to leave Middle-earth. "You should thank me! Not stand there, looking like an idiot."

After this, there was silence. None of them spoke. Siralil only gave some sort of hostile glances towards his son, every time his son did something in his own way, which was in Siralil's eyes; the 'wrong' way.

In fact, for the rest of the evening the two of them were silent. Only now and then they turned to each other and muttered something, but nothing of great importance. Siralil wished soon to go to bed, and bade Sitinion do the same. Riding half awake on a horse on these roads wouldn't be good, not even for his own son. Sitinion did as asked, even though he expressed in a deep but innocent tone that he rather wanted to stay up longer, to watch the stars which he loved so dearly.

****

They woke as soon as the sun rose over the horizon and warmed them in the rather cold morning. Siralil judged by the pale sky that bad weather was probably coming, if it wasn't just the early morning. This time a day were always the same, he thought to himself. He handed the bag pack to Sitinion, who had no other choice than to accept it, with a small grimace though. "Come on son. We better get going. There's still a long road ahead of us. Remember we're only 3 days from Tharbad." With that he sprang forwards with his horse, hitting the road again. Their camp was set behind, without them giving any thought to the traces they had left behind.

*****************

Tanroth

Tanroth rode ahead slowly, but steadily to get everyone to follow. Soon he had both Rostion and Firel, who rode on the same horse and Imthôlion next to him. "Glad to be on the road again?" Tanroth asked, knowing for certain that he was. The other nodded, smiling, probably knowing what Tanroth was thinking.

From behind they could hear Erkaliel and Dunaire talking. Tanroth chose to ignore the fact that they brought up, in their conversation, the missing horses. Too Tanroth's annoyance, he just couldn't stop thinking about it. But he tried to keep his face straight, hiding any possibility that he was unsure or even afraid. The truth was that the fact that two horses had gone missing, was frightening. The whole journey would have a new; different, and probably negative, perspective. There were a few options though:

One; someone could have been given the horses by mistake. Not very likely though, Tanroth thought to himself. Two; there was a misunderstanding, the company was only supposed to have seven horses. Tanroth thought about this one for a while, but decided to go for something else. Option three though, was a more realistic. Maybe someone wanted to keep them from getting to the Havens? Tanroth shook his head, avoiding the other's curious eyes.

Just then, he thought about something he had thought of before. Could this horse 'robbery' be an action performed by someone from Sauron's side? Enemies? Orcs? No, Orcs don't use horses, he added, still only thinking though. What if.....?

Tanroth didn't get the chance to think more of this, before Imthôlion stopped in front of Tanroth, asking if there was something wrong.

"You're looking quite pale and worried, my friend," the elf said. Rostion and Firiel turned their heads to Tanroth as well. "Um.. It's just….. I am just tired, that's all," Tanroth said shortly, without explaining in greater details

[ 12:18 PM November 30, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

‘Michel Delving . . . that’s right! Now I recall it.’ Erkaliel looked northward toward their unseen destination. ‘I’ve heard that the Periannath live in a very large area of Eriador they call the Shire. And that they’ve divided this Shire into four parts to make it more manageable. They call them farthings . . . the parts, that is. And I’m thinking we’ll be going to the West Farthing.’

Erkalaiel urged Bracken a little nearer Dunaire’s mount. ‘I wonder if we’ll get to stop in Michel Delving. It’s the chief town, or so I’ve heard . . . the Mayor lives there.’ Erkaliel sighed. ‘Probably not. We’ll sneak by them in the night without them seeing us or us them. Too bad, really. Once we’re on the ship, we won’t have the chance again.’

They rode on in companionable silence for a while. ‘You know,’ said Erkaliel, suddenly breaking the quiet clip – clop of the horses’ hooves with her voice. ‘About your question – who could have taken the other horses. That’s a real puzzle.’ She shook her head. ‘Who would be passing through the nearly deserted Tharbad except Elves bound for the Havens . . . or ruffians bound for the Shire to cause mischief?’ She narrowed her eyes and looked northward and west, but there was naught that she could see.

‘Either way, it bodes ill for our company . . .’

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion had felt a little odd sharing a horse with Erfalas to begin with, but eventually they began to talk and he soon forgot that they were even sharing a horse. Imthôlion occasionally went quiet, his heart feeling the pull of the Fair Wood more the further away they rode. However, Erfalas was so cheerful Imthôlion found it hard not to be light hearted.

"It's strange that two of the horses should go missing," said Erfalas. "I wonder who in Middle Earth could have taken them?"

"Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding," replied Imthôlion, "and the stable master simply wanted to cover up a mistake on his part."

"I suppose," said Erfalas. "But still, it's still odd. He said that we'd already picked up to of them, meaning he thought two of our party had already been there ahead of us."

Imthôlion thought for a moment. "Yes, you're right. But who else knows of our quest?"

"No one who would be in the local area. Oh well, I don't think we'll solve this mystery today. Anything on your mind? You keep going quiet."

"Ah, you noticed," said Imthôlion quietly. "It's nothing really, it's just... Well, the further from Lothlorien we get, the more I wish I could step beneath those magnificent trees one more time."

"So, you're having doubts then? I do not think you are the only one," he said, glancing at Duinare. "I have noticed that others have also begun to act differently."

"You are good at reading people's behaviour, Erfalas." Imthôlion and Erfalas said little to each other after this for a while. Talk of doubts was definitely a conversation killer.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"You're looking quite pale and worried, my friend," the elf said. Rostion and Firiel turned their heads to Tanroth as well. "Um.. It's just….. I am just tired, that's all," Tanroth said shortly, without explaining in greater details.

"Tanroth," Rostion began. "You worry over the missing horses too much. I don't think the Enemy would have been content in taking two horses. Maybe it's a prank; by whom I don't know. Or maybe a misunderstanding."

"Or I hope I'm right," he turned to Firiel. "Maybe His agents were defeated by the vigilance of Tharbad, and in that way got only two." He uttered a sigh, then continued.

"It'll be a nice Halfling town, the one we'll be passing through. Too bad I only got to see those fair and gladsome folk now, when we depart Middle-earth." He uttered another sigh. He had not known Middle-earth enough.

[ 12:18 AM December 03, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel

While Firiel was riding with Rostion. Erfalas was riding with Imthôlion. It seemed alright, because it was strong horses that carried them. But it didn't really matter since the elves are usually light footed.

The atmosphere was heavy, and Tanroth expressed that he was quite tired.

"Tanroth," Rostion said. "You worry over the missing horses too much. I don't think the Enemy would have been content in taking two horses. Maybe it's a prank; by whom I don't know. Or maybe a misunderstanding."

"Or I hope I'm right," Rostion turned to Firiel. Firiel agreed and nodded to show that. She also thought that Tanroth was thinking too much about the missing horses. It didn't really matter after all. It had been alright eventually. The other elves didn’t' seem to care too much about this either.

The conversation continued, but Firiel didn't pay much attention. She didn't know what to say, all she could think about was the Grey Havens and what lay before them.

"So, what comes after Michel delving?" Firiel interrupted. "Pardon..?" Tanroth said and turned his head to Firiel.

"What comes after Michel Delving?" Firiel said again with a loud and clear voice so it would be easier to hear while the horses rode in the wind that blew swiftly.

"Well, when we come to the Westfarthings..." Tanroth took a short break before continuing: "We will probably turn to the Great East Road and then head westwards. We will then...hopefully...reach The Tower Hill. And then....”

"Should we speed up?" Arilewen said from behind. She had been riding like a wind and was now riding next to Tanroth's horse. Tanroth gave a short nod, and turned to the riders that were behind. "Ride now." He said and pointed forwards. "Lets see how fast these fine steeds are able to ride, shall we?" He said and laughed. Firiel smiled and held on tight.

Tanroth had finally lightened up....

[Novnarwen]

It was mid day, but the company felt for a short rest. However, they were only about three days ride from Tharbad. Still, they had come quite far, considering what Tanroth had imagined on beforehand. With this pace, they were nearly halfway to Michel Delving, and that was good news!

"We'll take a rest now," Tanroth announced, when eyeing a nice spot for them to have a small camp. It was only mid-day, but he felt that after this great effort the elves had made to get this far, they practically deserved it. Still, some of the elves thought it better to ride on, being eager to reach Michel Delving as soon as possible. Tanroth however, felt that their pace the last few days had brought them far and well on the road. He didn't mind if they took a brake now, and he guessed some of the others agreed with him as well.

Some sighed as Firiel announced that the company should take a break. But still, everyone seemed to be in a great mood as soon as they had jumped down from the horsbacks, stretching their legs.

"Look!" Arilewen cried, jumping backwards.

There, on the ground, faint horse prints could be spotted. The company stood stiff, having their mouths wide open. Three of the elves bent down to have a better look at the prints, which was evidence that someone or something was close. Tanroth ran his fingers in the soft sand. "Two or three days old," he said, looking with great eyes at his companions. The others nodded in agreement. Two or three days, that was for sure.

They followed the prints for about ten paces, at last able to state that there were at least two riders if not more.

"Riders, here? Now?" Dunaire said through clenched teeth. Tanorth heard someone mutter silently: "Obviously..."

For a moment no one said anything. Tanroth wondered however whom these riders were. Enemies? Enemies, servants of Sauron? He shivered as he thought about the feared Lord, who now threatened to take over everything that was good in this world.

"What now then?" Rostion asked, obviously pondering about something.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:05 AM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

It was two riders who had made the camp. The tracks of two horses and two people were prominent in the soft dirt about the small fire ring. The signs were not fresh her companions and she had concluded that whoever had picked up the two horses - they were at least two days ahead of Tanroth’s group.

Arilewen and Solondil were all for stopping, wanting to make camp themselves. They were nearly half-way to Michel Delving and the horses were flagging at the length of the journey they had made that day through the low, rolling hills of the western Shire. Erkaliel spoke up on the side of pushing on a little further. It was still light out, and even if they slackened their pace to accommodate the horses, it would still bring them all the nearer the road that would lead them west to the Havens.

While the decision to stay or go was being discussed, Erkaliel thought back on the ride through the southern part of this section of the Shire. Several of the Little Folk had been moving their small herds of goats to greener pasturing as they passed, and they raised their heads curiously and then in wonder as the Elven company passed. Erkaliel had waved at one of the young lads who stood with the older Hobbit she took to be his father. The little one had ventured a small wave as she passed, and she had grinned back at him and waved also. ‘I should have come here before these last days,’ she admonished herself. ‘They are a friendly folk, if I have the right of it from these two. No Shadow has passed over them . . . yet.’ She looked to the West, making a small plea that these good folk would be spared the horrors that would come if Sauron and his minions prevailed

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:45 PM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"What now then?" Rostion asked, obviously pondering about something.

Only Arilewen and Solondil were unpacking. The rest were in such a state of terror. A camp just ahead of them? he thought. Did He know of our departure? Was He following us all the time? Thoughts of dread and terror chased one another, as he looked here and there, surveying the ground. Finally, his face became calm, as if a load was taken off his shoulders. He rose and approached Tanroth, saying;

"This are not orcs. I can be sure. Camp's too tidy...no trees felled, not even a blade of grass hacked. But of course, that doesn't mean they are not enemies...I cannot be sure in this lands."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:55 AM December 12, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"These are not orcs. I can be sure. The camp is too tidy...no trees felled, not even a blade of grass hacked. But of course, that doesn't mean they are not enemies...I cannot be sure in this lands," Tanorth stated after giving serious thought to the whole situation. The others muttered in agreement.

"Let's stay the night then," Solondil proposed. At first Tanroth doubted, but as he looked up at the sky, the sun was already starting its way downwards; it would be dark in a few hours. He waved his hand, making them sit down. "We'll go no further today. But at the break of dawn we will ride with great speed. Let's make a little camp," he announced, muttering. For a moment the others looked at him with surprise. "No further today?" Tanroth heard one whisper. He made no grimace.

Later that evening, they had quite a merry conversation. Everyone seemed suddenly so pleased about Tanroth's decision. Tanroth himself hadn't regretted his earlier statement. Now the company would be well rested, and maybe they would reach Michel Delving soon. With this thought he went to sleep, and didn't wake up until morning, break of dawn.

******

Three days had gone by since they had found the abandoned camp. Faint tracks from, what looked like, the same horses could still be spotted. Tanroth shivered by this; where would they lead? Michel Delving? Only now, the tracks were about 1 and a half day old. The company had made greater pace the last days, and the two riders were slowing down.

"Michel Delving," Tanroth announced, pointing. The nine companions had reached the largest village in and around the White Downs, West-Farthing in the Shire.

"Strange inhabitants live here," Tanroth heard one of them say. They all broke into laughter. "I've heard that they call themselves "Hobbits"," one of them answered merrily. Tanroth nodded.

The company had followed the Great East Road all the way from Tharbad, and now the road ran through the village. Tanroth and Rostion rode in the front as they approached the village. Small figures, men greeted them, but not with pleasure. Sceptic looking, (who can blame them) and insecurity were two things which spread among them, and many gathered around the outlanders. But as Tanorth and the others made their way through the crowd and took no heed to the small people, (only Erkaliel seemed to really enjoy this,) the hobbits went in all directions taking no heed to these elves either. Tanroth chuckled, looking at Rostion and Imthôlion who rode at Tanroth's side. "Have you seen any of these strange being before?" he asked, his eyes glittering in the moonlight.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:01 PM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and his son, Sitinion

"Haflings!" Sitinion had exclaimed when first seeing the Haflings. Sirlail had grown tired of his son's excitement. "They are after all mortal," Siralil had pointed out. "Nothing to be so excited about," he had continued. A large crowd had gathered around them, when arriving, but Siralil had waved them off. "Nothing to see here," he had yelled. The Hafling had run away, some even screamed.

They found the local Inn; a small building with a barn like dark roof. The small doors were obvious signs that the haflings were small people.

Siralil and his son made their way to the stable, going afterwards to order rooms for the night. They bent down as a woman came out the door and looked at them with eyes wide open. She had never seen so big people before. Siralil made his way through, growing annoyed by the behaviour of the little people.

"Two rooms for one night," Siralil demanded. The Innkeeper snorted, and looked up and into the elf's eyes. Siralil bent down, when ordering some food. "Your name?" he asked roughly. Siralil replied. "Here," The Hafling said, giving Siralil and Sitinion the keys. "Food will be served in ten minutes," the Hafling continued, eyeing the elves with care.

All over the Inn, people; mostly staff had taken a pause in their doings to watch these weird strangers. After all, Haflings weren't used to such company. "There's something with that man," Sitinion said at last, eyeing a man who went out the door watching the elves for a while.

"Don't worry son. He is too little to cause us big trouble," Siralil said and laughed.

The pair of them settled down, and ate their food. People were looking suspiciously at them, but they didn't bother to do anything about it. When they had finished, they separated and went to bed.

They rode on as soon as the morning arrived.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:19 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel’s horse was tired by the time they reached Michel Delving. Tanroth had pushed the group these last three days, and while the Elves showed no signs of fatigue, their mounts were flagging. As they neared the outskirts of Michel Delving, word spread among the local inhabitants that a party of the Fair Folk was passing through the Shire. Many of the Little Folk had come into the main section of town, or had gathered in the hedgerows along the road to see the Elves.

Others of the group took little notice of the Periannath, recalling to Erkaliel something she had once heard said – that sheep may look different to other sheep or even to their shepherd, but that mortals have not been the study of Elvenkind. ‘No wonder they call us stiff-necked and aloof,’ she murmured to herself. ‘I wonder how long it will be before their memory of us fades and we become nothing more than pleasant stories told to children at bedtime.

Bracken nickered and shook her head as if agreeing with her rider’s thoughts. The two of them fell to the back of the line, letting the main body of the group go on ahead to look for a place to camp, there being no sign of an Inn in the town. Erkaliel watched as the backsides of the horses grew smaller in the distance. She wished to be alone with her thoughts, and the chattering of the rest of the group had already stretched her patience thin over the past few days.

It was a fair night – the sky black as a crow’s wing on whose feathers glittered strands of fiery jewels. The stars in their familiar patterns above her brought her comfort and she wondered if the same patterns held in the Western Lands. She had just picked out Wilwarin, the Butterfly, when she heard some exclamation to her right and the sound of someone hushing the speaker. Erkaliel brought Bracken to a halt and dismounted. There was a rustling of leaves and a few hushed words then thick silence.

‘What’s this?’ she chuckled pulling back a low lying branch from a shrub at the side of the road. There, in the ditch, near the roots, huddled two small Hobbits, tinier than most – children, she supposed, a little boy and girl, by their clothing.

The little girl, the bolder of the two stood up, blinking in the starlight. Unsure of the Elf’s intention, she stood in front of her brother, as if to protect him. He pushed past her, seeing the smile on Erkaliel’s face and smiled back. Names were exchanged, and the children grew bolder as the Elf stood still, and did not seem menacing as their parents said she might be. They fingered her tunic, asking why she wore something so common, when they had heard that Elves dressed always in finery and jewels. Erkaliel laughed, saying that even Elves must take care of the business of their ordinary lives and that fine clothes would not do for such mundane tasks. Where have you come from and where do you go, they asked her, and she answered in kind. Their eyes grew wide at the thought of sailing on a great ship over the bent seas, and the girl lamented the fact that all the Elves would soon be gone.

‘Not all of us will leave,’ said Erkaliel. ‘There are many who love this world and will stay. Though, in time they will fade as the world grows beyond them and memory of them fades.’ She had crouched down to be on a level with them, and reached out to touch their soft cheeks. This would be their world now, and the world of Men, if Sauron did not prevail. From her waistband she drew two little knives, wrought fair in Elven design, with a small green jewel each set in the pommel. ‘Remember us,’ she told the two, who accepted them wide-eyed. ‘Tell your children of us.’ She helped them tuck them into the waistbands of their breeches and their skirt. ‘They will also serve you should the foul forces of the Shadow come into the fair Shire.’

‘We have nothing to give you back!’ cried the little girl. Erkaliel laughed, a bright silvered sound against the dark night. ‘You have given me your friendship, and that is enough,’ she said. ‘But if you will, my companions and I need a place to camp this night – can you tell me of one nearby?’

There was a fair sized glade just to the west of the town, on the north side of the road, they told her. The trees would shield them from the wind, and there was a small creek that ran on the east side of the clearing. Erkaliel mounted and waved good-bye to them, their little figures growing smaller as she sped away toward her companions.

As soon as she caught up with the group, she told Tanroth of the glade. ‘Perhaps we can camp there tonight,’ she said. ‘And let the horses take some rest.’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:24 AM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

"Perhaps we can camp there tonight," Erkaliel said as she had 'sneaked' up on Tanroth, Rostion and Imthôlion's side. "And let the horses take some rest," she continued. Tanroth and the others agreed to this. Erkaliel led them to a glade, west of Michel Delving. The glade was fair sized and located on the north side of the road they had been following from Tharbad. The company's members looked questioningly at the elf, who without hesitation led them to the quite wonderful place, where the trees would shield them from the wind.

Firiel and Arilewen prepared a short meal; meanwhile the others helped each other make a suitable and comfortable camp. Imthôlion and Dunaire led the horses to some trees, standing tall and fair just by the camp. They tied them up and made sure there was plenty of green grass they could enjoy, while the company enjoyed a hot meal.

"So, these shirelings are mortal?" Dunaire asked after a while. "Yeah, I believe so," Solondil said, looking at the others with wide eyes, as if he was wondering if someone else had something to add. "That means... that they will die.. Eventually," Dunaire stated, with great wonder in her voice. Solondil gave short nod, assuring that this was correct. Tanroth said nothing; he only smiled now and then to make sure he didn't look too tired or hesitant about this whole affair.

The two riders and their errand was still eating him up inside. But he wouldn't dare bother his fellow elves with questions regarding the mysterious riders now. It was far too late and thoughts which only brought doubt and suspiciousness wouldn't be any good now.

Tanroth stretched his arms up and into the air. He yawned and turned on his left side to get some sleep. At midnight or so, someone would wake him up so he could stand guard for a few hours. Some of the company's members had insisted on having guards at all time this night. "The Halflings may look innocent, but they seem scary in a way," someone hat muttered, it was meant as a joke though. Still Tanroth felt it was a good idea as well. Some guards couldn't hurt, could it? Not when there were riders about.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:54 PM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel got together with Arilewen as soon as they camped and they prepared a small meal.

"I'm so hungry!" Firiel exclaimed. "It feels like we've been walking for ....a long time.." Firiel sighed. Arilewen gave a short laugh. "I'm hungry as well, dear Firiel. But then I think of the Undying lands, Valinor, and then all my other thoughts and feelings are lost and forgotten. For a while at least..." Arilewen said and smiled.

"True...true," Firiel replied. "It's a comforting and surprisingly happy thought." Firiel continued.

"It is, isn't it?" Arilewen laughed. Firiel nodded and smiled.

There was a short silence while they made the meal that was soon going to ease everyone's stomach ache. "I think it's ready now." Arilewen said.

~*~

While the company ate they talked about the Shirelings. Firiel thought of them as a very interesting race, even though they were mortal.

"So, these shirelings are mortal?" Dunaire asked after a while. "Yeah, I believe so," Solondil said. Firiel shivered: the thought of being mortal, to die...eventually….

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:30 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

A few hours had passed when Solondil woke Tanroth up. With a steady hand, he shook his fellow elf. "It's past mid night," Solondil assured Tanroth. "You should have waken me earlier," Tanroth grunted, while smiling. Solondil made a short laugh and helped Tanroth up. "It's been quiet all night," Solondil reported. Tanroth wondered why Solondil was standing guard alone. The elf answered that he was fine with it. "Besides, what can possibly happen?" he asked and laughed again. Tanroth nodded, and made his was towards some trees, whishing Solondil a good night.

The stars shone like silver stones in the black night. Tanroth shivered as he thought about that this night was one of his last in Middle-earth. It wasn't a saddening thought, though. It was quite the opposite. He would finally meet his parents again, and he would be given the grace of the Valar; to spend eternity in Valinor, the Undying Lands.

For a while Tanroth just focused on this thought. It was an encouraging thought, a thought that made everything so easy! So obvious! He was going!

*****

The elf sharpened his ears. The night was growing old, and the sound of a branch braking made Tanroth grab his bow without hesitation. "Hello?" he said, having an odd feeling. The horses neighed and some tried to loosen themselves from the rope that tied them to the high trees. "Calm down," Tanroth said with a comforting voice, as soon as he reached them. From the corner of his eyes he could see movements in the other direction and without warning he spent his bow and turned, "Who are you?" he said loudly. He had raised his voice, and it was now filling the air.

A small figure approached in front of Tanroth. He had blue eyes with curly brown hair. The fat stomach hung out into the air and made the man look huge, even though he wasn't more than a few inches tall. Tanroth drew the conclusion; this was one of these Haflings who lived here.

"What do you want, Hafling?" Tanroth said, biting his lip. This was not a challenging situation; he was an elf with a bow, faster than any Hafling with a stomach like that; he was a Hafling with.... nothing.

"I would ask you the same," the Hafling answered, taking no heed to the spent bow. He went over to where Tanroth was standing and clapped one of the horses. "This one is strong," he said, smiling.

The elf grew surprised about this haflings 'courage'. The Hafling surely had to know better. A few paces away there were eight elves sleeping, and they could wake up any moment. "I'll give you a few seconds to explain yourself, or I'll wake my companions up, and they won't be this patient," Tanroth said impatiently. For some reason he felt as if he was panicking. It was odd really, when he was armed and ready to shoot any moment when the Hafling made one 'wrong' move, and still he was the one who felt threatened.

"There are many of you," the Hafling started after a while. He blinked and continued;" It's kind of disturbing. The inhabitants here are starting to believe something is happening. Something bad." Tanroth pondered about these words for a few seconds before he lowered his bow.

"Many?" Tanroth asked, muttering. The Hafling laughed, and turned his head towards Tanroth's sleeping companions. "Ah," Tanroth said, "But that's just us; nine in total," he continued.

The Hafling didn't laugh more now. A serious look came upon him and made him look like as if had turned angry. "What about the two of you who came to the Inn?" Tanroth laughed, and stood unsympathetically to the Hafling's question. "All I am saying is; you're scaring us. You're strangers. Just keep your mischief out of our village."

"What Inn?" Tanroth asked, still looking completely lost. The Hafling started explaining again. "I know that you know. But I'll give you the whole story if you insist," he said and muttered something about that this was ridiculous.

Tanroth sharpened his ear again and listened. The hafling started telling: "Two days ago," he started. He continued by telling Tanroth about two people, such as Tanroth, had turned up at the local Inn. They were odd looking, "Like you, that is," he said. The two Elves had been leaving in haste the day after, but still, when two strangers such as them had appeared in the village, people had been frightened. "And it doesn't exactly help, when you and your... Companions... show up the next day. What are you up to?" he said, now having a harsh tune in his voice.

Tanroth stood with his mouth wide open. At first he couldn't believe it. It was so unreal.

Two Elves? Two Elves? Two Elves?

The words rang in his Tanroth's ears, making him want to drop dead at the ground and keep his ears shut. "What?" he stammered with great difficulty. The Hafling looked at him with pity. "Their names?" Tanroth managed to press forwards.

The Hafling didn't answer at once. "Hmm, they never told.. I think," he said. Tanroth sat down. "Oh wait!" The Hafling called after a minute. "One was named.... Sira...Siralil? .... Yes, Siralil it was," he continued, having a certain fire in his eyes now.

"Now, get your horses and get out of here," he said at last, waving the Elf off.

The Hafling disappeared into the dark, meanwhile Tanroth sat in the grass; he had figured it all now, he had solved the riddle.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:06 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

The morning came slowly over the elves that were asleep. The sun was slowly moving over the horizon and the sun was shining weakly.

Firiel opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Rostion who was sleeping next to her. Slowly she raised and got to her feet. Her back hurt after she had been lying on a sharp stick. "Oh..." Firiel exclaimed when she picked op the stick. Her eyes turned over to the spot where the elves had lit a fire the previous evening. Tanroth was sitting there, with his head turning down to the ground.

"Tanroth.." Firiel cried. She shouldn't have done that, because it disturbed the other elves that were still asleep. Firiel grinned, and hoed that they would take no heed to her. Unfortunately her inner prayers weren't heard, because both Rostion and Erfalas were already on their feet. Firiel had managed to wake them. She gave a short sigh before her husband reached her.

"What's the matter with Tanroth?" He asked her. " I have no idea. I was going over to him....but I never really..." Firiel said as Rostion interrupted her.

"He looks down," Rostion said and looked at Tanroth over Firiel's shoulders. "Yes, I know. That's the reason I wanted to talk to him." Firiel said and sighed again. "This quest....this quest that The Lady gave to him, is tearing him. I can see it. He isn't the same, Rostion." Firiel confided.

"I can hardly recognize him." Firiel concluded in the end.

"Don't worry dear." Rostion said and clapped her on the shoulder. "let's go over to him," Rostin said finally.

Firil nodded and they went hand in hand over to Tanroth. When he saw them coming he raised his head and put up a weak and tired smile. "Have you been sitting guard all night?" Rostion asked.

Tanroth gave a short nod, "Only the hours after midnight." he said and looked at Firil. "D' you have a good night's sleep?" He asked politely.

"Yeah...It was alright except from the stick that has been torturing me all night." Firiel said and laughed. Tanroth and Rostion laughed as well, even though the atmosphere was tense.

[Novnarwen]

Save for anyone who needs it

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:06 PM December 17, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

The company ate their breakfast, and with the Hafling's words in the back of Tanroth's mind, he urged them all to hurry. "We better get going, if we want to reach that ship," he said. He noticed that Firiel looked at him, just like she had looked at him this morning. She knew him too well. Maybe she knew there was something wrong? Still, he would have to pretend as nothing had happened; even though the news from the Hafling would mean that his chance for getting on the ship was about zero. Siralil was older than Tanroth, which meant that Siriali had more 'right' to go west than him.

Siralil had really made himself unpopular now, Tanroth thought when climbing his horse, now being ready to leave. Whoever was in lead with him would probably get away with it as well. Tanroth sighed, and rode unwillingly ahead.

It was still early when they got out of Michel Delving. A few hobbits here and there had given them sceptic looks, but it didn't seem to bother any of the company's members today. Now they focused on going about 70 miles west and all the way to the Tower Hill, which Tanroth called Emyn Beraid in his own tongue.

Tanroth clapped his horse gently as they came upon the Great East Road again.

"Tanroth, you look worried."

Tanroth turned his head, expecting to see Firiel there, who always was so caring. But to his big surprise it was Arilewen. For a moment Tanroth didn't exactly know what to say. He was worried, but could he tell her that. Tanroth had already decided that he would tell no one of the meeting with the Hafling. But this decision was also bothering him. After all, there were two riders, and if they arrived first at the Havens, would they be going to Valinor then? Would tow of Tanroth's company have to stay behind? Was that fair? Tanroth had no idea, and he had basically not given thought to this either; the new question: who won't be leaving.

"I know what might be bothering you, Tanroth," Arilewen said after a while. She made her horse go a little faster, so that the distance from the two of them to the rest of the company increased with about 5 paces.

"I heard..." she started, now looking serious and relieved.

"Heard what, may I ask?"

"The Hafling. The story about the riders. The story about Siralil," she said, now breathing heavily. With tears in her eyes, Tanroth's heart jumped. She knew?

Arilewen had 'eavesdropped' after being she had been awakened by Tanroth's cry, when he had first seen the Hafling. Therefater, Arilewen had pretended that she was asleep, even though she was wide awake and her ears were wide open as well. "I know that this new situation means... it means," she said after a while. The elf maiden paused before she continued;” that I cannot possibly be going to Valinor, since I am the youngest and I took Siralil's place."

Tanroth opened his mouth to speak, but was hissed at by Arilewen. Erkaliel and Dunaire had been riding up on Arilewen's side, and had now eagerly started a conversation with her. "We cannot tell this to any of the others," Arilewen whispered before turning her attention to her two female friends. Tanroth said nothing.

[Novnarwen]

Sitinion and his father, Siralil by Orofaniel

Four days had gone by, and the two elves were still on their road to the Heavens. Siralil thought about how many miles that still remained and he figured that if they were lucky, they could be at the Grey Havens this very evening. Siralil smiled to himself, he was pleased. No one could now take his and his son's places in the ship. Not even if Tanroth and the Company were alive they wouldn't passably reach it.

"We'll probably reach the havens tonight, son." Siralil said as they road. "What..?" Sitinion asked as he couldn't quite hear the words that had slipped his father's mouth.

"I said, if we're lucky we may reach the Heavens tonigh." Siralil said again and smiled even wider.

"Oh.." Sitinion mumbled. After the past few days this was all he had been thinking about; he had been thinking about how unfair it was for Tanroth and his Company when himself and his father took their places in the ship. He could see the disappointed face of Tanroth in his mind, and it seemed so real. The picture of Tanroth was tearing him apart from the inside. It was like two strong forces wanted a piece of him; he couldn't turn down his father, because he loved him. And Siralil had always wished them best form his son. At the same time he knew that they were doing something wrong, because Sitinion was certainly not old enough for the ship yet. Every single member of the Company was older than him, or he thought so. Even though he didn’t knew for certain, he knew that he didn't deserve nor had no right for a place in the ship.

If he did, then Tanroth and the Lady would have said so. Sitinion was starting to think that, maybe his father only wanted him with him because he was afraid to be alone. Siralil didn't exactly know what was waiting for him if he went to Valinor, and he could always "count" on his son. Or could he?

***

As the two elves rode the sun slowly went down and disappeared into the west. The wind blew as a swift leaf fall down from the tree in the autumn.

"I guess there are only a few miles left." Siralil said after a short break. They tried to hide all traces as they left the camp. "We should manage to reach The Havens within the hour, if we ride with great speed." Siralil said. Sitinion nodded.

"Let’s ride then." Siralil said impatiently when he saw that his son didn't show any sign of getting up on his horse ready to ride.


****************
Tanroth and company by Novnarwen

Three days had gone and about 70 miles had been laid behind, by the time when the company could at last glimpse Emyn Beraid. The three white towers were high and stood proudly on the hills. Tanroth explained that one of the towers, the tallest he believed held one of those Palantirs or the seeing stone, Elostirion.

"Who set it there?" Solondil asked. Tanroth couldn't answer that, but Imthôlion assured them all that it was Elendil. "In that way he could see Tol Eressa and even the blessed Aman," he added with a huge smile upon his face. Tanroth laughed, "They are sure useful, huh?" he said. The others nodded in agreement.

That night they camped not far away from the towers. "They're beautiful," Tanroth heard someone say. He had to agree. There was something about them, which made them extraordinary and special. It was almost as if they were magical. Tanroth made a grimace. It wouldn't be that bad not leaving Middle-earth then. Valinor had to be beautiful as well, but so was Middle-earth. His time would come, eventually, just not now.

Tanroth glanced over at Arilewen, who had for a couple of days ago revealed her secret about eavesdropping that night. He shook his head. He wondered if she was disappointed. Or perhaps she had still a hope getting on the ship. Why else was she willing to continue this journey, if she was absolutely sure she couldn't go? Tanroth for that matter had no choice. It was his task to follow these elves, and he wouldn't dare fail them, even though it meant that he would have to go all the way back to Lothlórien, alone.


Info thread (Palantiri, BD thread) (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=1&t=000113)
*********

Save if needed

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:22 PM December 18, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

The ride to the Emyn Beraid had been one of reflection for Erkaliel. Her mother’s mother had sailed West when Erkaliel was very young. It was a joyful parting when she left with a group of her companions on this very same road that her granddaughter now took. She had kissed them each on the brow, her daughter and Erkaliel and told them once again of the time she had ridden to the Tower Hills and climbed Elostirion, the tallest and most western of the White Towers. The sea had not yet called her, and she looked across the expanse of it toward Eldamar and Valinor. Erkaliel’s mother, Lithiel, had never made the pilgrimage. She had died before she could do so, killed in an ambush. Erkaliel often wondered if Lithiel had chosen to remain in the Undying Lands once her stay in the Halls of Mandos was done.

And now here was Erkaliel camping on the western edge of the Emyn Beraid, and a longing grew in her to look into the Stone of Elendil. With Tanroth’s permission, she rode to Elostirion, urging her mount there at a quick pace. Leaving Bracken to forage in the long grass that grew about the base of the tower, she climbed the long winding stairs within at a run.

At the top of the tower, in the center of the room, was the palantír. On an oaken pedestal it stood, glowing softly in the dark, windowless room. Placing her fingers lightly on the cool orb, she watched the hazy grey images within grow and sharpen. First a shining silvered path filled the globe, sunlight on the sea. Then, white shores with the waves lapping softly up to them. And beyond, a far green country, beautiful as the light quickened on it. Erkaliel’s mind was captured by these sights and her heart was filled with the desire to go to them . . . to be at home . . . and at peace.

She stood long looking into the stone. The night waned outside the tower – the stars, at first bright, grew dim as day approached. With some reluctance, she withdrew her touch from the stone, and made her way slowly down the staircase. Sleep did not come for her that night, or any night after. At night her eyes were filled with starlight, and by day they looked westward, watching as the promise of the Havens drew nearer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:45 AM December 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Sitinion and Siralil

The two elven riders could now see the Grey Havens. It was lying before them, waiting for them. "Son, this is Mithlond. As the elves call it." Siralil said as they came to the outskirts of the Havens.

***

The ship stood ready as they arrived near the harbours. It was a beautiful ship with strong and large white sails. They stood there a while just looking at the wonderful ship that would take tem to the undying lands in a little while.

Around them stood other elves and watched the ship. There were more elves here than Siralil expected. Everywhere he turned his eyes he saw people of the beautiful elven race, all of them wanting to o to the Undying lands before the War started for full. The elves that were left behind were forced to fight along or just leave it to the other races of Middle-Earth. There would be spilled blood either way, Siralil knew that. It was always spilled blood in wars. But this wasn't just a "war", this was a special war, where evil had to be defeated or else.....Siralil sighed, he didn't really want to think about i.

That's why he had decided to take his son and go for the Heaves, so he wouldn't have to fight, or loose the people he loved the most. Siralil didn't usually show his emotions towards others, but by taking his son with him he had shown them in his special way of course.

"What do you say, should we find an Inn and get some food and drink? Maybe some sleep?" Sarlil proposed suddenly.

Sitinion didn't say anything because his father ad already started to walk towards what was called The Swan Inn.

They placed the two fine horses in the stable and went inside. The Inn was filled with merry laughter and conversations. Most of them were elves that were waiting for their ship; the very same ship that Siralil and Sitinion were waiting for.

"What can I do for you dear elves?" The ma behind the desk asked suddenly.

Sirali pushed his son forwards to the desk. "C-Could we have a room please?" Sitinion asked the man behind the desk. His father was standing behind him looking at the Innkeeper.

"Yes...There is only a room at the upper floor available. Is that okay?" The Innkeeper asked politely.

Sitini0on turned towards his father to see f the room that was available would do. Siralil nodded and gave a faint smile to the Innkeeper. "We'll take it." he said and grabbed the key the Innkeeper was now holding in his hand.

"Have a nice evening." The Innkeeper finally said as the elves turned away from the desk heading for the common room. Siralil wanted to grab a bite before he got to bed. His son was following him as a dog.

***

As they entered the common room the light hit their faces. The elves were smiling and drinking from large mugs with ale and beer.

Sirali and Sitinion seated at a table in the middle of the common room. It was the only table that was free. Siralil waved towards one of the servants in the corner. The woman came quickly over to them to take their orders.

"What can I get for you, gentlemen?" She asked and smiled.

"We'll have to mugs with ale and...The food you've got." Siralil said. Sitinion opened his mouth as he was going to say something, but his father stopped him. "That would be all." he continued and smiled to the servant.

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute with ale and food." The servant said and smiled again before she walked away towards the kitchen.

The servant held her promise she was back in a couple of minute with two large mugs with ale and two filled plates with food. The elves started to eat at once without much talking. Their stomachs were soon filled and they were satisfied at last.

While they took some of their last sips with ale, an elf approached them. Siralil recognized him; he had been standing at the harbour looking at the ship while he and Sitinion had looked at it as well.

"Greetings dear elves." He said and seated without really being invited to do so.

"Hello," Siralil nodded sternly. "Hello," Sitinion said and made place for the elf on the bench.

"I saw you two down at the harbour." The elf continued. Sitinion opened his mouth but was yet again interrupted by his father. "My name is Siralil, and this is my son Sitinion." He said.

"Oh, I'm very sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," the elf replied. "I'm Gifor."

"Well, hello Gifor." Siralil said. "Are you going with the ship that is leaving tomorrow?" He asked. "Yes....I am." Gifor answered and sighed. "I have to admit it's a bit sad to leave; Middle-Earth. But I'm sure that the Undying lands will be....splendid." Gifor continued and smiled. Then he gave a short laugh. Sitinion smiled as well, while his father still sat there just looking at Gifor.

"I assume that you two are going as well..." Gifor said and looked at Sitinion then he turned his eyes to Siralil. "Yes, we are indeed." Siralil said and smiled.

Gifor then gave a quick wave to the servant, he wanted a mug if ale he told Siralil and Sitinion. "You want some too..?" he asked them as the servant came over to the table. "No thank you." Sirlil answered before Sitinion could say anything. Siralil took Sitinion by the shoulder dragging him up form the bench he was sitting on. "We should go now." Siralil said shortly.

"A-alright.." Gifor mumbled. "Are you sure you don't want to..." He looked at Sitinion, but he didn't get to finish his sentence before Siralil said no once again and excused the both of them. he almost dragged his son out of the common room, to Sitinion's annoyance. He would rather have a mug of ale then go to sleep now....

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:36 PM December 19, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

Bracken clip - clopped along the road heading west as they descended from the Tower Hills. The horses were in no hurry, having rather enjoyed their brief rest of the previous night. There had been grass aplenty for them in the thick undergrowth beneath the trees, and even a thicket of berry bushes for them to browse on.

The Elves, however, felt the urgency grow in them to reach the harbor, and once they had gathered on the flatlands at the base of the hills, they urged their mounts on at a rapid pace. Seagulls flew in wheeling flocks this far inland, calling the Firstborn to the sea. The horses caught their riders’ eager spirits and did their best to shorten the distance between themselves and the promise of the harbor.

It was early morning when they reached the outskirts of Mithlond. The horses by then were flagging, and the Elves had used up the last of their food and drink. Hungry and thirsty, they stopped one of the townsmen and asked the way to the nearest Inn. ‘It’s The Swan you’ll be looking for, gentle people. Just down the street here,’ he said pointing, ‘and then a right turn at the iron monger’s sign.’ He tipped his hat to them as they thanked him and then rode on.

The wooden sign of the Inn was grayed from exposure to the salty sea air. It creaked as it swung in the brisk morning breeze, the chains from which hung rusted and pitted by the sea’s mist. On it was engraved a graceful swan ship, its sails unfurled, filled by a fair breeze, as it sailed westward out of the harbor. The Elves dismounted, handing the reins to the two stableboys who had rushed up eagerly to be of service.

As they mounted the stairs to the Inn door, Erkaliel heard one of the boys speaking to the other. ‘I wonder if they will all be leaving on the ship.’ The other boy said he supposed they would, why else would they have ridden their horses so hard to get here.’ The first lad grinned at the prospect. ‘The stablemaster will be in a very good mood, then, with nine new horses to keep and sell.’ He rubbed his hands in anticipation. ‘We may even get a little something from his good mood!’

‘Nine horses,’ thought Erkaliel. ‘Now isn’t that interesting? Our hosrses plus the two missing make that number. In wonder if by some chance those other two horses were the ones meant to ours.’

The companions strode into the Common Room, and secured a table for themselves. Erkailiel waved a serving girl over, asking what were the offerings for the morning meal, and what might the Inn have for drink. ‘Well,’ said Miriel, ‘the Cook is in an especially good mood this morning and had fixed a fine spread for breakfast.’ She ticked the menu off on her fingers, then went through the beverages from ale to sweetspice tea. ‘It’s all tasty,’ she assured them. Turning to two figures who sat at a small table at the end of the bar, their heads bent low over their plates, she pointed and smiled at them, saying, ‘At least those two gentlefolk think so.’

Erkaliel’s eyes narrowed as she looked into the shadows at the two figures. Elves, by the looks of them. She stepped a little closer and hailed them, her eyes going wide as she recognized their faces.

‘By the One,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s you . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:50 AM December 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and Sitinion - By Orofaniel

Siralil and Sitinion had had a good night sleep indeed, but they had no idea of what was waiting them down in the common room....

***

The two elves went down the stairways and found their way into the common room there they had been the day before. Gifor the elf that they had met was nowhere to be seen. Sitinion sighed as they seated to order breakfast. "What is it son?" Siralil asked him seeming annoyed over that his son sighed.

"Nothing father." Sitinion answered and sighed again. "It's just....we're leaving Middle-Earth today father, and I'm having second thoughts." Sitinion continued. He, himself was stunned that he had said such a thing to his own father. How could he? After all that Siralil had done for him? His father had been so kind that he had brought him to the Heavens and giving him a free ticket to Valinor, where he would live forever in peace.

"What?!?" Siralil exclaimed while rage was rushing over his face like thunder. "I d-didn't mean...." Sitinion mumbled while he looked at his father.

"I just feel bad for the Company and for Tanroth. What if they aren't dead?" Sitinion continued trying to defend himself and what he'd just said. He knew however that his father would never let him get out of this fully skinned. It was a terrible thing to say to his father, even though this was what Sitinion felt.

"They are dead!" Siralil said and raised his voice. "How come they're not here then?" When the ship is leaving this afternoon?" Siralil continued now almost whispering. "Don't feel bad for something you didn't do, son." Siralil said now, as he was trying to comfort his son. He bent over him clapping him on the shoulder. "It'll be alright son, when we get to the ship you'll see we've made the right choice...It'll be alright." Siralil continued.

But deep down Sitinion knew that it wouldn't, even though Tanroth and the Company never showed up.

*********

Tanroth - By Novnarwen

"By the One," Tanroth heard Erkaliel exclaim. "It’s you . . ."

Tanroth looked up to see Erkaliel leaving her seat, and walking towards the two gentlemen the waiter had referred to. Tanroth got a glanced over at the table as well, and could see a face, which was familiar, Siralil. He excused himself, looking warningly at Arilewen, who had been following Tanroth's eyes, and spotted Siralil as well.

From the moment Tanroth had understood that Siralil had gone to the Havens and take the seat, which originally was his, Tanroth had hoped that the company wouldn't get to meet Siralil and his companion until the ship was leaving. Still, to let the others know would be morally correct. This especially, simce one of Tanroth's companions and him could be squeezed out of the seat they had been dreaming of, from the moemnt they left the woods of Lothlórien.

When Tanroth rised from the table as well, the others seemed to turn in every direction, to have a better look at what was going on. Tanroth reached Erkalile who was now staring at the two elves by the table. "Siralil...?" she said, questioningly. The other elves at Tanroth's table turned in the same direction, and Firiel and Rostin stood up. They had heard Erkaliel, and Tanroth hadn't been able to stop her either. The truth would have to come out now; Tanroth would eventually have to tell them of the meeting with the Hafling.

"Oh dear," Siralil answered. He too, looked a bit surprised, but seemed to deal with this new situation they found themselves in, much better then Erkaliel or the others, for that matter. "Tanroth, you made it," Siralil said, a bit merrier. Tanroth nodded and made grim face, telling Siralil that they had all made it, together. "They deserve this, and you know it," he added.

Now Dunaire, Imthôlion and Solondil had come forwards. And they pushed Tanroth forwards, so they could have a better view of Siralil and his companion, who tanroth discovered was Siralil's son, Sitinion. But insted of looking at Siralil, who had fallen silent, they stared at tanrloth with great eyes. "You don't look very surprised," Firiel said, halfway whispering. Tanroth nodded, and made a grin.

"I am not either," he said. "But that is not the point," he added, hushing at Dunaire as was eagerly arguing with Sitinion, who almost looked frightened by Dunaire's 'river' with words.

"I changed my mind," Siralil said after a while. He was clearly starting to get annoyed by Dunaire and the others, who were after his opinion casting silly arguments out on him, all telling him that he had no right to do this. Tanroth however, knew that Siralil was right. Siralil had the right to go, even though he had changed his mind and gone to the Havens secretly. It was obvious that this was wrong, but there was really nothing anyone could do. Siralil could by right go, if he wanted to.

"I am going," he said, through clenched teeth. By this, Arilewen made her way through the crowd and left the Inn. Dunaire followed her, while the others tried to digest this heavy news.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:47 PM December 20, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post- Firiel and the confrontation.

"I am going," Siralil said sternly, now looking at Tanroth with disgust. He swallowed and turned his head towards his son.

"Siralil?!?" Rostion exclaimed. "Calm down Rostion." Tanroth said and raise his hand.

"What do you think you're doing??" Firiel asked him angrily. Siralil laughed. "Calm down Firiel dear...." He said and smiled. "Don't you dear say that to me!" Firiel exclaimed now seeming even angrier. Her cheeks were going red and her eyes were blank. Her hands were shaking of anger.

"Sitinion, maybe you want to explain all of this." Rostion said suddenly. He had been quiet all the time; no one had even noticed that hew as there. Tanroth nodded. "Yes, Sitinion, since you're father won't tell us, why don't you explain...." Tanroth said and looked at him with stern eyes.

The poor elf sat there, trying to be strong, but deep down he knew that Tanroth was right and that by all means; they had the right to ask such a question. "W-we...My father changed his mind." Sitinion said suddenly, to his father's annoyance.

"No, son." Sirali replied he didn’t smile now. He had this worry expression in his face and his lips were curled. "I have come here to claim the place in the ship I had, but I gave away. I had the right to that place..." Sirlil said now looking at Solondil who also approached the table where the two elves were seated. "Remember..?" Siralil asked Tanroth and smiled evilly.

"I do remember that!" Tanroth said, while his anger was rising. Firiel stood behind him watching his eyes become as blank as her own eyes. "But I also remember that you gave away that seat to Arilewen!" Tanroth said as he hit his hand in the table where Sitinion was sitting. "No need to be quick tempered about this.." Siralil said teasingly. "You claim something that is not yours!" Tanroth continued now bending over Siralil, he looked him in the eyes; "Not yours..," he said again.

"I wonder whom the Lady gave the places too....." Sirali said after a moment, only to tease Tanroth. "Ahh....Now I remember." He continued smiling like the sun does on a warm summer day. ”The Lady gave the seats to this that were the oldest!" Siralil said now angrily, while he rose from his seat. "Didn't she..?" He asked Airilewen whom had just entered the common room again. Arilewen gulped, without saying something.

"Then if so, what is Sitinion doing here?!?" Rostion interrupted. "He is not even close by age to be the eldest. He is at least a thousand years under your age!" Rostion continued now pointing at Sitinion while he looked at Siralil.

Sitinion had to say something, but he didn't know what to say. There were no words for what he felt and what he wanted to say. "I-I'm here because of my father's wish." Sitinion said almost as he was announcing something. He, as well, got up from his chair. Tanroth laughed. "Well, so are we...we are here because this was the lady's wish." He said looking at Sitinion. "So, should we follow your father's wish or the Lady?" Tanroth now asked Sitinion, as teasingly as he could.

Sitinion didn't know what to answer, but e didn't have to, because his father had already dragged Tanroth out of the way so he could stand by his son and defend him.

Firiel took a step forwards. "You, Sitinion, of all people, know what the right thing to do is..." She said. "You know that these seats were not for you, nor your father!" she said turning her eyes over to Siralil. "He gave his seat away. And he cannot come here and claim it back, if not Arilewen is willing to giveit back." Firiel said and looked at Arilwen with sorrowful eyes.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:08 AM December 21, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Tanroth - Novnarwen's post

"He gave his seat away. And he cannot come here and claim it back, if not Arilewen is willing to give it back." Firiel said.

Tanroth followed the conversation carefully. Arilewen stood behind him, breathing heavily. Tanroth couldn’t understand how Sitinion had more right to go to Valinor than Arilewen. For Tanroth however, all hope was lost. He had a mission, to lead the elves safely to the Havens. Now, if someone was going home, and there was obviously someone who was, he would have to lead that person home, right? He shuddered by this thought, but tried to look at the positive side of it; there would be a ship after the War as well.

Arilewen looked as if she was in serious thought. It was after all her decision. Is she was to separate father and son, which Siralil was not hoping for, or go herself. It was obvious that most thought it was out of question that Sitinion would go with this ship. He was far younger than any of the members in the company. Tanroth looked at Arilewen, and said in a low voice:”You better decide quickly. The ship will leave soon.” By this, Siralil seemed to be very surprised. He hadn’t really imagined that any would separate his son and him. Now there was actually a chance for that, which would mean that Sitinion could die in the war while fighting.

**~**

The company made ready to leave the Inn. From the window of the Inn, they could glimpse the white swan ship and the white sails. Soon the Inn was over crowded by the elves that were apparently leaving as well. In the corner or Tanorth’s eye, he coulfd glance Siralil and Sitionion. They too, made their way to the Grey Havense, but not very sure in their case.

“Do you think she will let him follow his father?” Firiel asked, as they walked to the Havens. Tanroth hadn’t told Firiel about the Hafling yet, and he wondered if he ever would. It didn’t seem right yet, would it ever? Is anyone knew, maybe they would feel bad for him that he was the one who got this mission, since he was ‘doomed’ to go back, if anyone else did. Now even, the one who would be going back, wouldn’t do it out of own intention, but out of the fact that this person had no choice

“I met a Hafling,” Tanroth said suddenly, stopping.

Firil looked questioningly at him. Rostion came over, while the others walked straight ahead, following the crowd.

“A Hafling?” she said, wondering where all this was going. Tanroth took a deep breath, looked at Rostion then at Firiel and started telling, about the Hafling and the meeting at the outskirts of Michel Delving. “He told me two elves had passed through Michel Delving just a day earlier. One of them had introduced themselves as Siralil,” he said, finishing with another sentence that made no sense at all.

“I won’t be going with this ship. I must follow the last person home, to Lothlórien,” he said, with great difficulty. Firiel and Rostion had known this for a while. It had been obvious for quite some time now; from the moment they met Siralil and Sitinion at the Inn. No one had said anything about this matter, and Tanroth gussed it was out of pity.

Neither Firiel nor Rostion looked surprised, they only looked at him, saddened that this was the end; the end of their journey and something that was supposed to end so differently. However, Tanroth clapped Rostion and the back and whispered that they would meet again, “Some day,” he said. They started walking down to the Havens, where many elves already had made it to the ship and waited comfortably for it to sail west.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:04 PM December 21, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion was shocked to see Siralil and his son at The Swan. Did Siralil intend to reclaim his place on the ship, thus forcing Tanroth to stay behind? Rage coursed through Imthôlion’s veins, so he left the Inn before he did anything he might later regret. A cool breeze drifted from the west, drawing the elf’s attention to the great expanse of water. Beyond that great expanse was the great continent of Aman. Imthôlion’s heart was torn in two. To the west was a perfect life, but to the east was all he had ever known and loved. Could he really leave his homeland in this time of war, without even trying to fight in the great battle? Deep in his heart, Imthôlion knew he would not be able to rest until he helped fight the Evil. A stay in the Halls of Mandos would be ahead of him of he did not sail now, for he knew he would die in battle. Yet now he was so close to sailing, Imthôlion found that his heart belonged to Middle Earth. Though evil walked her fair lands, Middle Earth was a fair land in which he had been born.

As Imthôlion thought about which way he would go, west or back east, he found that his feet had taken him to the harbour by their own accord. He looked up at the great ship that he had stopped next to. Tanroth would be left behind, for Siralil would have his way, as older elves often do. Imthôlion had never liked Siralil, and now he saw clearly that Siralil was not a just elf, for no just elf would give up their place on a Ship, only to take it back from one who had made such an effort to get his companions to the Havens. Tanroth deserved his place more than any elf Imthôlion knew. Perhaps if it came to it, Imthôlion would give up his place so that Tanroth could sail, for Imthôlion knew that Tanroth wanted to sail more than he. Imthôlion didn’t even think he wanted to sail know. No, he had made his choice. He would stay and fight with the other elves who had remained. He would die valiantly in battle.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

There, on the Western shores of Middle-earth, Rostion stood beside Tanroth. He patted the Elf in the back, who had been their leader on this last journey of theirs, and been with them through all the hardships of the road. It might have been his last journey, too. he thought. But there's nothing I can do. He turned to Tanroth, and said,

"My friend, I am honored to have been on this road with you as my leader. May the Valar, under the One, protect you, and someday may you find the ship to bear you to the Undying Lands. There, I'll be waiting or you." A tear fell on his cheek. I, crying? he thought. So long since I last cried. I'll treasure this one, more than any gem or pearl Arda might have.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:32 AM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire stood behind Rostion as he spoke to Tanroth.

"My friend, I am honored to have been on this road with you as my leader. May the Valar, under the One, protect you, and someday may you find the ship to bear you to the Undying Lands. There, I'll be waiting or you."

As Rostion stepped forward onto the ship, Dunaire turned to Tanroth. "Namarie, mellon nin." Dunaire was, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, trying to think of something to say, then gave up. "Namarie." He turned and walked slowly onto the ship, glancing back only once.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Orofaniel's post

Firiel and the Company stood there together on the harbour. The ship was ready and its white sails were already blowing in the smooth wind. "This is it." Firiel said to the others. "This is we say good bye to Tanroth and the one who follows him back to Lorien." She continued. Her eyes went blank as they had done earlier that day, but this time it was because of the sadness she felt, not the anger. Rostion stood next to her and took her hand. There were now tears that streamed down from Firiels' pale face.

She took her hand and wiped them off, but they continued to come. "I'm sorry." Firiel said and laughed. "I'm just going to miss this earth....and….." We know Solondil said. "So will all of us," he continued.

"Let us not grieve." Tanroth said. "Because we reached our goal, we have succeeded.....We came here as a group of nine elves, but it seems that only seven of us are able to leave, and move on to the next step. I will, as I've said before go back to the Lady in Lorien. I will not decide who the second will be, that is not up to me. All of you have to make a choice, a hard choice indeed, on so little time, but we have no more. " Tanroth said while he had a serious look upon his face.
_____________________________________________

Elentari's post

Imthôlion was lost in his thoughts for some time, until he heard the familiar voices of his companions. Although unaware of the confrontation, he could hear sadness in the voices of his friends. As he approached them, he heard Dunaire say farewell to Tanroth. So it is true, thought Imthôlion. Tanroth will not sail.

"Tanroth, my friend," said Imthôlion after the others had moved away toward the ship. "So you will not be sailing?"

"No," said Tanroth, hiding the emotions that tried to push their way to the surface. "I shall not be sailing on this ship."

"You worked so hard to get us all here. It is not right for you to be left behind, when without you none of us would have made it this far." Imthôlion sighed and turned toward the ship. "I shall remember you, my friend, and shall see you again when your time to sail comes. Farewell." And so Imthôlion turned and left, joining the other Elves aboard the ship.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:46 PM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[piosenniel]

‘This is what comes of such a long time lived in this marred world,’ thought Erkaliel as she had watched the interaction between Siralil, Sitinion, and Tanroth. Reason was of no avail, and a current of anger played round the group. ‘It is said,’ she thought further, ‘that when an Elf dies the fëa will go to the Halls of Mandos. There to better understand Eru’s purpose for them. Perhaps then this anger and wrong-doing will be understood and the Firstborn will be whole again.’

Erkaliel felt herself apart from this. She had no power to make this situation right. And beyond that, since she had climbed Elostirion and looked toward the Undying Lands, her only thoughts had been of that far country across the Bent Seas. In her room, she had left her pack and her weapons, a little note attached to them that someone in need should have them. She shed her traveling clothes – the breeches, vest, tunic, boots and pulled on a green dress, shot with threads of gold – the color of the leaves of Lothlórien on a fair, sunlit day. On her feet were soft green shoes. About her shoulders she drew on the grey, finely woven cloak her aunt had made for her long ago, and clasped it at the throat with a shining six-pointed star of silver and crystal. Eärendil’s star, the hope which hung always in the sky.

~*~

As she made her way to the dock, she pushed the cape’s hood from off her hair, which was now unbound. The sea breezes caught the tendrils about her face and played with them gently as she made her way to the slip where the White Ship lay at anchor. Her companions were gathered on the dock, surrounding Tanroth.

He stood with Rostion, a resolved look on his face. Dunaire stood just behind him; both had just spoken with him. Firiel was there, tears staining her cheeks, though she laughed in spite of them. Imthôlion had just finished speaking with Tanroth, and Erkaliel’s brow furrowed as she watched him turn away from the waiting ship, his steps taking him eastward down the road.

Coming up quietly behind Tanroth, she put her hand on his arm, causing him to turn toward her.

Utúlie’n aurë, Tanroth. Nai hiruvalyë Valinor. Namárië!

One last look at him, who had led their band so well, then her grey eyes turned West, to the White Ship waiting, and her steps carried her on board . . .

_______________________________________

Translation of Elvish:

‘The day has come, Tanroth. May you find Valinor. Farewell!’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:56 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post - Firiel

Firiel stood there and listened to Tanroth's words. She thought of how the Lands of Valinor would be, and then how it would be to return back to Lorien. How the war was upon them, and how much blood that would be spilled. She would have to witness all of this if she decided to return to Lorien. Firiel didn't have much more time to think before one of the companies stepped forwards and announced that she would return to Lorien........

And because of this, Firiel was able to leave Middle-Earth together with her husband and sail to the Undying lands, and live there for ever....

Nova's post - Tanroth

Tanroth wasn't surprised by seeing Arilewen step forwards. She didn't have to say anything either; Siralil would have his way. Tanroth wanted to stop her; she could go west if she wanted, but this was not his decision, it was hers and hers alone.

As the elves made ready and said their last farewells to Tanroth and Arilewen, Tanroth realised that this was kind of the exact thing he had been through before; when his parents had left and sailed west. Firiel and Rostion had been his best friends for as long as he could remember; almost like a family, and now they were leaving too. Tanroth shuddered; this was the end, but not of all things.

The sails looked proudly over the harbour and the blue-green surface of the water. The water was so blank; the ship looked as if it was double ship, both setting sails in just a moment. Firiel and Rostion stood in the crowd at the ship; they hadn't settled yet, and waved to the two elves that stood looking, yearning after the opportunity to leave as well. Firiel cried out a last goodbye, but it was drowned in the voices from the excited elves. Tanroth however, could see it in her face expression that it was a last goodbye. "Good bye," he whispered, and Arilewen added a last farewell as well. She smiled, even though she was staying, she had found peace after all then. There was a war coming, but she looked as if she had faith. Not only in the ring bearer and the quest he lead, but in the elves in Lorien.

"He would have been at better use than I, in this war. But..." Arilewen started as the Elves in the ship feel silent, and the ship was about to leave the harbour. Tanroth waved and smiled, looking at the elf at his side. Tanroth had listened to her, meanwhile reaproaching himself. Why hadn't he figured it? Two horses missing, two riders, same road... Why hadn't he understood it? How many possibilites where there? Surely, any of Sauron's or Saruman's spies would have been more careful. They wouldn't have left a camp not covering all their tracks. He had been dumb and he had been fooled. And for this he would have to pay. Too bad Arilewen had to pay for it as well. If they only had been a bit faster, if they had gone with greater pace...

"You've done greater than you can imagine," he said after a while, knowing all about being separated with his family. Arilewen made a short laugh. "Always this positive?" she asked, the atmosphere being much lighter now. "I have hope, if that's what you mean," he stated, but inside he felt it quite different. It wasn't the fact that the war was coming, just this quest and the ring bearer. Would he be strong enough to bear it? Would he make it all the way to Mount Doom? Tanroth shook his head. How dared he doubt it? He felt ashamed, and made a last effort to spot Firiel and Rostion. They couldn’t be spotted anywhere, to Tanroth’s big disappointment. Had he seen them for the last time? He could glimpse Dunaire however, who smiled and was in the next moment gone. She had moments before said her goodbyes to him and now she too would be gone. Tanroth sighed, and made a grimace

"Come, we must ride back with haste," he said suddenly, avoiding Arilewen's look. Blank-eyed, they walked towards the Swan Inn again, where the horses would be waiting for them to take them home to Lothórien. Now they would only be two to share the difficult road, but they would make it together. Tanroth looked over his shoulder to see the last glimpse of his friends; companions, and a part of his kin, setting sails for Valinor...

[piosenniel]

~*~ To Elvenhome ~*~