[Nerindel]

Amandur

Amandur's Black charger was hard put to keep up with the elven mare as they rode with all speed to Tallas' forest home, He could see by the tenseness of her lithe frame and the eagerness with which she rode that his elven friend was worried about their old friend. He too was concerned, Tallas is a good man and friend to all of the dunedain, there are not many he has not aided in times of great need and not always directly. The old man was not as fragile as he appears, Amandur recalled a time when as a young ranger he had questioned how an old man could help them, Tallas with lightening quick reflexes had disarmed and sent him to the floor before he even had time to react.

Amandur grinned, If Ferney had went there, then he would have not had an easy time getting what he was after, Tallas would have seen to that! But Barrold was not alone he reminded himself and no matter how wily the old man was he was still but one man and against two young ruffians, he could not hope to win a battle with those odds, he thought grimly.

Several times, to avoid a nasty fall from his mount he ducked low in order to avoid the low hanging branches. Approached the ring of oaks that marked the old mans domain they slowed their horses to a brisk walk, stopping as they passed under the eaves of the oak boundary. Silently he slipped of his horse and unsheathed his sword. Léspheria did like wise, but he could see by the serene expression on her delicate face that she was trying to locate their friend through his emotions.

"Anything?" he whispered as he quietly came up beside her. "No" she whispered sadly. "Alright, I'll go this way…” he said indicating that he would flank the house to the right, "And you go that way," he gestured for Léspheria to search the other side.” We will enter the house together if we find nothing out here!" He was just turning to go when he felt Léspheria's gentle touch on his arm. "Be careful," she whispered, her eyes conveying the strength of her meaning. "And you my Lady!" he nodded, then he turned and began his cautious scouting of the area about the right side of the old mans house.

He weaved in and out of the trees searching the ground for signs that Barrold and his companions had come this way, but alas, he found nothing. He shifted his attention to the house, the brown and green wooden door was wide open and the rocking chair on the porch rocked back and forth in the light breeze, creaking eerily. Amandur shivered, the warm summer breeze had suddenly turned cold.

"Amandur!" his head jerked up, it was Léspheria and from her cry he could tell that something was wrong, sparing no further thought for the house he ran in the Direction of her cry.

Entering a small clearing, he could clearly see sign's of battle, but there in the midst next to one of the large oak's sat Léspheria Silver tears running down her face and splashing on the grey head that she cradled in her lap. "He is dead!" she said mournfully, The grief in her eyes reflecting his own, but he let no tears fall he had to be strong for her, his pain would be hers also and he could not bear to burden her with more than her own. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and spoke softly, "we will see to our friend, then see to all else," As she nodded her assent, he sheathed his sword and gently lifted the body of his old friend and carried him back towards the house.

He lowered the frail looking body onto the ground, and went to look for a spade. On his return he saw Lespheria bend over the body, she seemed to be rubbing some kind of oil all over his body, it had a sweet smell but he had no idea what it was, also beside her he saw a pile of clothes, a silvery silken material and a sword, all of which he had never seen before. As he drew nearer he saw, that the wooden handle of the sword matched the old mans staff, but as he looked at the staff, he could clearly see that the staff and sword had been one.

Taking off his cloak and tunic, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and began the ominous task of digging his old friend’s grave. As he toiled he could hear Léspheria’s soft lament and it seemed to him that all the animals and birds of the forest mourned also the old mans passing. Even the trees shook gently adding their voice to her gentle lament.

By the time the grave finished, the lack of sleep and the aches in his muscles showed heavy on him, he pushed the weariness aside and climbed out of the hole throwing the spade to one side, and mopping his brow on his shirt, he made his way back to Léspheria. She had stopped her lament and was now chanting softly, prayers to Illuvatar and the Valar he assumed.

He also noticed that the old man no longer wore his blood stained clothes, but a sea blue tunic with fine silver detail. His eyes widened with awe as he recognised the detail, a silver swan and ship, a mark of nobility in Dol Amroth. However, clasping a long dark cloak about his neck was the many-pointed star of the Dunedain, much like his own. His brow furrowed in puzzlement a Dol Amroth noble that was descendant of Numenor, he had not even noticed that Lespheria had stopped her chanting and was looking at him.

"I found them in a chest under his bed," she answered in reply to his unspoken question. He then watched as she lifted a silver circlet and delicately placed it atop his grey head. The front of which was wrought in the likeness of the silver swan ships of old that were said to have been used by the elves of Lothlorien. "He must have done my mothers kin a great service for them to have imparted a gift of such beauty," she whispered, a gentle loving smile marking her fondness for her old friend.

"He is ready, it is only fitting that he should be honoured as the noble he truly was!" Léspheria whispered as she laid out the silvery silk, as she did he recognised it as the long silk drape that had once belonged to her mother. "Are you sure?" he whispered laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him smiling, "Yes, I believe he did her a service once also." Then together they gently laid their friends body on the silk and taking up either side, they carried him to his final resting place.

After lowering their old friend into the grave, they lowered their heads in a mark of respect. "Farewell and safe journey, old friend." Amandur whispered in the ancient tongue of his people. "May Illuvatar smile warmly upon his faithful servant." he heard Léspheria whisper in the tongue of her people. Tears of sorrow rolled of the elf maidens cheeks as Amandur slowly filled in the grave and it is said that ever after there grew small white tear drop shaped flowers were her tears fell for her old friend.

After filling in the grave, Amadur gently guided Léspheria back to the house. However, on entering a great anger filled him. The once neatly stacked shelves lay in disarray, some half torn from the walls. The table was up turned, the dried herb’s had been pulled from the rafters and trampled on with out care or thought and anything the villains did not want or need had been smashed and broken. Glass crunched under his feet as he walked further into the room.

"Barrold and his friend will pay for this!" he said through gritted teeth, all but shaking with the anger at this injustice. “I will see that they are locked up in the deepest darkest dungeon and the key tossed into the sea, Death is too good for them.” he spat. Then seeing Léspheria’s horror, he wished he had not spoken his thoughts aloud.

"I'm sorry, but Tallas deserved more than this!" he whispered indicating the carnage around them. "Yes, he did but words spoken in anger will not change anything. He was a seerer and likely as not he knew his time was near.” she retorted sternly. He had words ready for reply but swallowed them at her stern words and merely nodded his understanding. She was right Tallas would not have wanted his death avenged, but still he was a ranger and he would see that Barrold and his accomplices paid for their crimes in a Gondorian prison.

As Amandur looked back to Léspheria he saw her searching through the debris, "What are we looking for?" he said coming up beside her. "Tallas often took notes and records of events and problems others needed solving, I need to find these, they are too valuable to be left forgotten." she told him still sifting though the wreckage, Nodding his head Amandur helped her to look.

He watched her delicate almond shaped eyes widen in horror as they lifted a felled pine book self to discover that the books that had been left had been destroyed. All but one a small thick leather bound book. It unlike the others had a thick layer of dust about it as if it had not been touched in years. It was so dirty that they had almost over looked it. He watched as Léspheria gently blow away the dust to reveal the gold lettering on the front.

'Valaindon'.

He heard the gasp escape Léspheria's lips, but as she tried to open it, the catch would not budge. "Let me," he offered taking the book gently from her hands and search for a locking mechanism that he might pick, but there was none. "It must be sealed with the old magic of your kin," he sighed handing it back to her. He was slightly surprised when she slipped it in to the hidden pocket in the folds of her skirts, "We have not the time to ponder over Nolderin seals, when I was here yesterday I noticed several Mithril bound tomes bearing the device of Rivendell, these are missing. Amandur puzzled over what this could mean, "Barrold is greedy he probably saw their monetary worth, and thinks to sell the mithril covers!" he reasoned.

"Perhaps!" she sighed, wiping the creases from her skirts as she rose, "lets hope he covets their worth enough to keep them from Naiore!" he heard her whisper as she headed for the door. "Menecin!" He whispered catching up to her, she nodded her affirmation, but he could tell there was more on her mind.

"Léspheria,” he said his voice filled with gentle concern, she stopped but did not turn. "There are very few left of the once great house of Finarfin, The halfelven Children of Elrond and Celebrían, who have all chosen the mortal life, myself , my brother and two others."

"Naiore and Vanwe!" he gasped.

Lespheria nodded and continued walking, but she went on… "We are all that is left of that once proud house, the rest are either dead or have left these shores for the undying lands as is their right, Forsaking Naiore and her treachery. I believe that Naiore would not think twice about ridding herself of all ties." she sighed sadly.

"What madness do you speak?" Amandur gasped, "She would not get even within a thousand miles of Queen Arwen!" he said confidently, though he was full aware that she had avoided capture in those lands also. Léspheria gave him a weary smile, "Perhaps you are right, and I worry about nothing, the Shire is her course at present and we should direct our thoughts in stopping her from destroying the peace of our small friends.

"We will ride until nightfall then make camp it is unlikely we will catch up to the others tonight," he said pointing to the quickly descending sun that gave an orangey hue to the mid evening sky. Mounting their horse's they swiftly rode back to where they had left the others and picking up the trail they followed their friends and the villains with their hostage that they pursued.
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Léspheria


"But we must now decide which course to take, to follow Vanwe on the trail we see before us, or to continue after Naiore with no trail. But that is our errand."

Léspheria could feel Rauthain waiting for one of them to answer, and as she looked up from her thoughts, she could see concern in his broad face, from the corner of her eye she could see Amandur deep in thought, considering what course to take. Léspheria could see no other course but the one before her.

"Naiore has gone to great trouble and at great risk to herself, to retrieve her daughter, I do not believe she would give that prize up so readily!" she exclaimed taking both rangers in her steady gaze.

She could feel Amandur's surprise as he followed her reasoning, only days ago had she been angered with Amandur's revelation that the rangers were using Vanwe to find Naiore. "If we follow Vanwe's captors they will inevitably lead us to Naiore." Amandur spoke to Rauthain, and she nodded her agreement, as the older ranger looked her way.

The damage had been done Vanwe was already in danger and by following this trail they may yet be able to free the young elf from her captors, "it is better this trail than none at all" she pressed seeing the hint of doubt in Rauthain's pale grey eyes.

"Then it is settled, as soon as the others return we will follow the hired hands to their mistress." Amandur stated, then almost as if on queue Dúlrain and Maethor walked briskly up the path towards them.

Léspheria lightly stepped aside allowing the rangers to rejoin their brothers. Her gaze strayed eastward towards her valley home and she wondered if the elves had yet told the unstable elf that he had a daughter. A part of her hoped that they had, “a little light in his darkness,” she whispered softly into the warm easterly breeze. However, a bigger part of her feared that the elf might just forsake his kin’s protection and go looking for the child. She sighed heavily, none could tell what went through the mind of that one, a genius on the edge of insanity, she thought wearily.

Turning back she lightly caught up to the four rangers, frowning slightly when she saw the blackish/blue bruising along Maethor's jaw, "What happened!" she asked, searching her satchel for the appropriate oil to relieve the ache and reduce the swelling.

Léspheria pressed the mare hard, her worry mounting with every powerful stride. She could sense Amandur hard at her heels, his concern also mounting. Lespheria knew that Tallas was not as frail as he appeared and would put up a good fight if pressed into it, but against two young men, she could not be sure the odds would be in his favour. However, if they had Vanwe with them, she knew that he would not stand by and do nothing; it just was not in his nature as it was not in hers.

With this thought in mind she urged the mare on more "Asca, Losserme sermo-mma anta amin" she whispered and with a delicate snort the mare obliged, Léspheria leaned low to the mares neck to avoid the low hanging branches as they sped on.

As they approached the ring of oaks, Losserme instinctively slowed to a brisk walking pace and stopping as they cleared the great trees. Léspheria slipped silently from the mare unsheathed her sword; she reached out her senses trying to locate her old friend, but to no avail. "Anything?" she heard Amandur whisper as he came up beside her. "No" she whispered sadly shaking her head.

She listened to Amandur's plan and as he turned to leave, a deep feeling of concern for his safety flared within her. She put a gentle hand on his arm, "Be careful," she whispered. "And you my Lady!" he replied, giving her a understanding nod he set of into the trees, she watched him for a second, She knew Amandur's feeling for her, but she had never returned them, afraid that her feelings were but a shadow of those she had felt once before.

She turned and began her own search, quietly moving in and out of the trees. Before long, she found Tallas’s boot print in the soft dirt. She could tell it was his because slightly to the right was a small round indent where he had leaned on his staff. She quickened her pace as the way also revealed Barrold’s heavy clumsy boot prints. The second man was a bit lighter on his feet but still his print was visible in the soft dirt. From the drag marks in the soft earth, she could tell that the elf’s captors had dragged her at some point.

She raised a puzzled eyebrow, from the tracks; it seemed that the villains had come first and that Tallas had come on them from behind. She hurried on, stopping and crouched to the ground as she came upon a small clearing. As her hand rested on one of the oaks she felt an unusual grove in the wood, frowning she turned to examine it. Vanwe had struggled to free herself from a rope that bound her to this tree, she reasoned, tracing her hand across the rut made by rope cutting into the trees bark. Vanwe she thought dropping her head sadly, as she did her hand slipped from the rut and she felt something else, her head snapped up and she stared at the small vertical cut just below the rope burn, "A knife perhaps?" she whispered. She sprung to her feet and began searching for Vanwe's prints, "Perhaps Tallas was able too...." but her words stopped abruptly as she caught sight of a grey head in the grass directly ahead of her.

"Amandur" she called, as she ran to the old mans still form, not even aware that she ran the same path Vanwe had, she dropped to her knee's next to her old friends lifeless body, all thoughts of Vanwe and her captors vanishing in her sudden horror. "He can't be dead!" she muttered lifting his grey head to her lap and checking for any sign of life. She placed a gentle hand on his cold hand and shuddered as she felt nothing from within him, "No," she wept gently cradling the old man's grey head in her lap. "He is dead!" she said mournfully, looking up as Amandur approached. He Placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and she trembled slightly at his touch, "We will see to our friend, then see to all else," he whispered softly.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she nodded her agreement. Picking up the old mans staff and sword she silently followed as Amandur picked up the frail looking body and walked toward the wooden house. He lowered the body to the ground just outside the house. After Amandur had left she, knelt down beside the lifeless body of her dear friend. She had not noticed before but there was a peaceful smile on the dead mans lips, “He knew, this was his time!” she whispered in astonishment. "You were a great man, my friend and we will honour you as such," she gently whispered brushing a lock of grey hair from his peaceful face.

She quickly stood up and went inside the house, she hardly took notice of the destruction in the two-room house, she had expected as much. Instead she looked for fresh attire for her friend, she would not bury him in his blood stained clothes, finding only one other woollen robe that was in much need of repair she sunk down on the bed sighing despairingly, the wooden bed was the only thing in the house not up turned.

As she sat the heel of her boot hit something hard, she jumped up and lifted the over hanging blankets to look underneath and there under the bed sat a dusty old wooden chest, she carefully pulled it out, there was no lock so she opened the lid, it creaked through lack of use. Her eyes widened as she lifted a well cared for elven circlet from the chest, and as her hand gently traced the silver swan ship that adorned the front, she wondered what service he had rendered her mothers kin that they would bestow such a gift on him? Carefully placing down the circlet she lifted out a pale sea blue tunic, "Dol Amroth" she whispered in awe as she looked upon the fine silver detail. These are clothes of nobility she mused, lifting out a pair of richly woven breeches. Also within were leather boots, a belt and set of leather bracers. Last of all she pulled out a long dark green cloak, her hand lovingly caressed the pointed star of the dunedain. “So I was not completely wrong, he was part Dunedain,” she mused.

Lifting the bundle of fine clothes she made her way back out side, kneeling back down beside the still body of her old friend, she pulled off her pack and pulled out a long silvery silk drape that once belonged to her mother and placed it next to the bundle of clothes. She then opened her herb satchel and searched for an oil to cleanse his body, as was the custom of her people. Once the sweet smelling oil was found she carefully undressed him and cleaned his wounds, then rubbing some of the oil between her fingers she began to gently massage the oil over her dead friend’s body. As she delicately embalmed the body, a soft lament came to her lips.


In Chetwood fair, keeping watch
Majestic oaks stand tall and proud,
The wind joins a soft lament,
Their boughs softly weep their loss.

Gentle warrior, a master of words.
Healer of time and father to all
Always giving and never wanting.
His memory will live long in our songs.

The birds of the woods sing their lament.
The creatures of the forest weep in their sorrow
the deer, the noble stag bow in respect;
never again will he walk their path.

Battles fought, long roads walked,
wisdom sought and given.
Friend of the elves.
Brother to men.
All will lament his passing.

In the valley of elves, Imladris fair
voices will rise to honour his name;
In Gondor proud the horns will blow,
another warrior has passed away.
Dol Amaroth will weep for
another lord lost.
But his deeds recounted will amaze and delight.

In Chetwood fair, did he fall
Even in death, true to his heart?
Injustice he saw, so justice he sought.
In forests, green he held his belief

Elven fair, brimming with sorrow
tied and bound no hope of escape.
His fate foretold, but his heart still true.
Stood his ground and faced his foe.

Lightening quick, with grace and light.
He fought for her freedom
but alas out numbered but not out classed
our silent warrior yields to his fate.

The battle lost, our hero defeated
in death his kindness not forgotten how knowing his end he valiantly stood
to meet the men who would be his end.

For the true daughter of the swan.
Did he forfeit his life
that a mothers lies would open her eyes
a kind act remembered, to kindle some hope.
When despair threatens to smother and choke.

Surrounded by majestic oaks our warrior sleeps
never again to grace this world
his deeds remembered and never forgotten.

Tallas Telacor, protector of the free.

by the time she had finished her lament, she had redressed her old friend in the attire fitting who he was and who he had be come, She then closed her eyes and began chanting prayers to the Valar and Illuvatar, asking them to grant him safe passage to the afterlife.

"Rest my friend, you had done more than most and are more than deserving of the gift reserved only for men" she whispered gently kissing his forehead.

When she looked, up she saw Amandur looking puzzled at the old mans clothes, "I found them in a chest under his bed," she told him, and then lifting the delicate circlet, she placed it atop Tallas' grey head. "He must have done my mother kin a great service for them to have imparted a gift of such beauty,” she said, smiling on her old friend fondly.

"He is ready" she whispered lifting and laying out the silvery silk, "Only fitting that he should be honoured as the noble he truly was!"

"Are you sure?" she heard Amandur ask above her, in reference to her mother drape. She looked long at the corpse of her old friend and Amandur laid a gentle hand on her shoulder when she did not answer. Smiling she raised her head to him, "Yes, I believed he did her a service once." Amandur then helped her to lift the body of their dead friend on to the silk, and then taking up either side, they carried him to his final resting place.

After lowering his body and saying their farewells, Amandur slowly started to refill the earth. The sudden realism hit Léspheria like a wave, so that all she could do was bow her head and weep, she would missing her old friend dearly.

After a time that she could not recount, Amandur lead her gently back to the house. Once inside the extent of the damage became apparent to her. They had come after his potions she thought disdainfully. She then looked to Amandur in horror as he described what he would do to Barrold and Anvanill when he caught them. At her look, he apologised, stating that their friend deserved better. She agreed with him, but chided him for his angry words.

It was then that Léspheria remembered the Elven tomes she has seen the day before, she began searching the debris, "Tallas often took notes and records of event and problems others needed solving, I need to find these, they are to valuable to be left forgotten." she told Amandur when he asked what she was looking for. Together they lifted an old pine bookshelf. Her eyes widened as they fell on the destroyed papers and books. The tomes were missing, as she had feared. However, just as she turned to leave her eyes fell on a small dusty leather bound book. She picked it up and gently blew away the dust, gasping as she read the name on the cover.

‘Valaindon’

She immediately tried to open the catch, but it would not budge. “Let me,” Amandur offered taking the book from her hands, but he to could not open it. "It must be sealed with the old magic of you kin" he sighed handing her it back. Léspheria wondered if she really wanted to open something that had been sealed by the ancient runes of her people, even if it was her mothers. Therefore, she quickly slipped the book in her pocket, offering Amandur a quick explanation.

"When I was here yesterday I noticed several mithril bound tomes bearing the device of Rivendell, these are missing!" she informed him "Barrold is greedy he probably saw their monetary worth, and thinks to sell the mithril covers!” Amandur reasoned.

"Perhaps!" she sighed, wiping the creases from her skirts as she rose, "lets hope he covets their worth enough to keep them from Naiore!" she whispered as she headed for the door. "Menecin!" Amandur whispered catching up to her, she nodded absently, but other questions now filled her mind.

"Léspheria,” she heard the ranger call his voice filled with gentle concern, she stopped but did not turn. "There are very few left of the once great house of Finarfin, The halfelven Children of Elrond and Celebrían, who have all chosen the mortal life, myself , my brother and two others."

"Naiore and Vanwe!" she heard him gasp.

Lespheria nodded and continued walking, pausing only to pick up Tallas sword/staff, but she went on talking as she walked, "We are all that is left of that once proud house, the rest are either dead or have left these shores for the undying lands as is their right, Forsaking Naiore and her treachery. I believe that Naiore would not think twice about ridding herself of all ties." she sighed sadly.

"What madness do you speak?" Amandur gasped, "She would not get even within a thousand miles of Queen Arwen!" she could hear the conviction in his words, but had not Naiore evaded capture many times? Léspheria gave him a weary smile, "Perhaps you are right, and I worry about nothing, the Shire is her course at present and we should direct our thoughts in stopping her from destroying the peace of our small friends."

"We will ride until nightfall then make camp it is unlikely we will catch up to the others tonight," he told her pointing to the quickly descending sun. She lashed Tallas's staff to the back of his saddle, and then pulling on her pack, she mounted Losserme.

They rode swiftly, but Léspheria found herself looking to her friend wondering if the feelings she felt for him were real, He looks so much like Avendur, she thought to herself. Avendur was one of Amandur's descendants. As a young man the ranger had protected Léspheria, when she had came to the aid of her brother and father at the battle of fornost in the year 1975. Then afterwards he had helped her to tend the wounded. She had fallen in love with his gently kindness and his fierce loyalty to his friends. Another way in which he and Amandur where alike, how could she be sure her feelings where for Amandur and not who he looked like.

As Amandur stopped, he looked back at her, she smiled, she could feel how he felt about her, it washed over her like a warm ray of sunshine, but it would be wrong of her to return his feelings without knowing the truth of her own. "They went is way," he said, then mounting his horse they set off again.