View Single Post
Old 10-23-2004, 04:33 PM   #309
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
Hilde Bracegirdle's Avatar
 
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: You'll See Perpetual Change.
Posts: 1,488
Hilde Bracegirdle has just left Hobbiton.
Menecin

Amandur chose a flat shelf of stone that jutted out sharply from the steep mountainside on which to make their hurried camp. A few stunted evergreens bordered the ledge on one side, serving to shield them somewhat from the chill air that descended from the heights above. It was a fortunate discovery, well protected and avoiding the loose stone of the mountain pass. And cutting the lower branches, they kept the horses on the green boughs deadening the sound of their hooves.

As the darkness of the evening deepened, a mist began to gather, lowering from the head of the mountains, until the camp was swathed in the damp blindness. Menecin pulling back his hood sat listening to sounds echoing strangely along the hillsides. All in their company were quiet, speaking in hush voices to one another if they chose to speak at all, so that the elf could hear the dripping of water far off and falling stones, perhaps from the foot of some small creature as it scurried to avoid an owl’s grasp. And he became aware of Vanwe in the darkness, standing before him. “Father,” a soft whisper broke through his thoughts. “You must eat now, ” she urged him, holding out fresh fruit and bread in her graceful hands. Taking them with thanks and setting them aside, he gestured for his daughter to sit awhile beside him.

Obediently, Vanwe settled herself down, and together they sat in silence for a while peering through the gloom, before the bard spoke again. His mind had turned to her. It troubled him that she knew so little of her lineage. How ill prepared was she to withstand a gale without a sure footing in the knowledge of the distant past or a sense of the part which she now played. “My child…” Menecin murmured turning to stare next to him, to where the darkness seemed less deep. “Do you know anything of the race of your kin?” But before she could answer he shook his head lamenting, “Ah, but what would those in the south have to say of the Quendi, the Eldar!”

“Very little, and of what was said I am unsure. It is only that which I have learned lately I trust, for the people of Harad view elves with deep suspicion and spoke of them as if they were a proud and warlike race, but now that I have seen Léspheria and you and have seen those of Imladris, I do not believe any longer that it is true.”

Menecin smiled faintly in the gloom, “Then though you have not heard the Noldorlantë, its effect has still been felt by you! It is true, there have been some among the Quendi who have been proud, but pride is not the sole province of our race. And the true nature of our kin would rather we work toward the repairing Middle-earth than any rending of it. Let us hope that we have learned from our mistakes. But know that your lineage holds many of great wisdom and strength. Never have doubt in yourself, for their blood flows in you as well.” He paused looking off to where the edge of the shelf fell steeply off into the gorge they had been following. “Do you know the name and purpose of these mountains?”

Without hesitation he heard her soft voice reply. “They are the Misty Mountains. They run, a hedge of sheer peaks, north and south for many hundreds of leagues.”

“Yes, they are the Hithaeglir that were raised by the rebellious Morgoth long ago as a barrier, so that Oromë might not easily hunt down the fell creatures under his sway. It seems fitting that we should also be crossing them. I believe you may not have heard the name Hithaeglir before today. Do not let their stern faces dismay you, that was many long years ago, and though they daunted the Teleri with peaks that pierced the sky, they are not now as treacherous as when they once caused elves to turn aside. Indeed, though they are yet lonely and desolate, Morgoth’s handiwork has eroded, and with care they too have become surmountable.”

“I am not afraid,” she whispered.

“Then you have learned Léspheria’s lessons well, and I too will take up this shield she has provided, though I must hope to have the strength to wield it well, when the time comes,” he said pulling up his hood again.

“But do we not share the same blood, the same lineage, that same strength?”

“In part, yes. Long have I been weary, taking no joy in this place, yet not willing to journey westward. But in seeing you Vanwe, and knowing of your perseverance, it returned hope where I thought it had been banished forever.” Noticing that she grew still, he continued, “My child, do not feel burdened by this. You have given me a great gift. Even if we were to fail, I should always treasure it. For I have in my confusion been wasting away, watching my life fade into nothingness, and you have returned it to me.”

“I have done nothing.”

“You have done much more than you realize, my daughter. Much more.”

With that the two lapsed into silence again, and Menecin saw that Vanwe was looking up as though she sought out some star to guide her through the mist surrounding them.
Hilde Bracegirdle is offline