SCENE 4 - The Misty Mountains

[tomcat]

It was late in the day and the Company had now ridden for close to two weeks. Before them, glowing red on their faces in the waning sunlight, the Misty Mountains marched off both north and south to disappear in the graying sky. It had been months since a few of the companions had seen these mountains and the forest around, for some it was their first. This trip had also seemed a little less fraught with danger as the first time they had traveled the East-West road.

Dirnhael sat and thought comparatively of his two trips - they had left from Tom Bombadil's early that next morning with a fond farewell given by all. The little man and his wife had been so hospitable and whatever magic they worked had healed Edrahil, Durgil and the little girl of all evil memories and wounds.

From there they had hurried back to the King's Rest Inn to return the young girl to the worried Abelmans and to then collect their things. Fengel was chomping at the bit, so to speak, to get on with his trip home. With the majority of the town coming to see them off with a heroes farewell, the companions rode forth from Bree on the long East-West road towards Rivendell.

They were in no hurry this time and so they traveled the meandering road at a plodding rate, letting their horses trot as they would. They passed under Weathertop again and the three remaining companions thought of and told the others about the meeting of Mithrandir and how Angbor had so stubbornly worked to save the dying Easterlings atop the hill. Dirnhael smiled at the memory of how bull-headed the young loremaster could be and how he had oft gotten his way. The Dúnadan was not sure if that came from his noble birth or some other source, but he had been tenacious.

Next, they passed the old Rhudaurim watchtower where they had first met Camentir and all thought about how entwined their lives had become with the old Knight. To see the fort that stood at the bridge crossing the Mitheithel and to remember how Camentir and his men had so bravely assaulted it, outnumbered though they were, so that Angbor and his company could pass in relative safety on a quest that none knew whether would be successful.

Now the old fort sat empty except for the crows that still circled over and perched within its framework. It seemed that the Hillmen that had been stationed there by the Witch-king had not only taken a heavy hit from Camentir and his men, but also were laid low by the sickness that had spread across the north. The companions had found no evidence of any living person still within although they did not inspect to closely for fear of contracting the still very deadly disease.

It must have been so for the Hillmen... those that could, probably escaped and went back to whatever lives they knew. Such was the case with mercenaries and hopefully the Witch-king would suffer this kind of contention throughout the rest of his ranks and so the North Kingdoms be spared.

Once past the old fort, the Company continued along the road until they at last came to the outer limits of Elrond's realm and again his sentries confronted them. And so, perched atop their horses the six riders waited to cross the ford once again into Rivendell.

At long last, the call rang out and an escort rode up to greet them... it was the lady Arwen and a host of guards. She smiled and waved for them to cross the ford and Dirnhael could do naught but look in awe at the beautiful Elfess... little did he know that in the years to come, it would be Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gilraen that would take her hand in marriage. Thus did the Dúnadan meet what would be a future daughter-in-law, for Gilraen would be born of Dirnhael's line in distant days to come!

"Greetings", she said. "The Lord Elrond and the Lady Celebrían bid you welcome and grant you entrance into the realm of Rivendell! I am the Lady Arwen and I shall be your escort to Imladris. If you would please follow me."

She smiled as she waited, on the far-side of the ford of Rivendell, for the Company to cross.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil's breath was taken away... and it wasn't just from meeting the daughter of Elrond where he could barely get out a proper greeting (those eyes were most bewitching and soul-piercing).  Rivendell was all what he was told and more.  It felt... it had an almost tangible texture, a feeling, that was something out of legend and dream.  Even with its alien quality of the Elves, it had mannish qualities to it, maybe due to Elrond's Half-elven heritage.  It certainly was the best of both worlds -- a place where Man and Elf excel and coexist as one.

Rochithuin certainly was intrigued by the place and seem to awaken by merely being here.  Hearing a far off whinny, she practically bucked him off to go see what it was all about.  The group dismounted and she was off with a laugh from her master. Seeing as Dirnhael and some of the others have visited this land before, he obliges to follow their lead.

[Wiseman]

OOC: Yet again pardon my stupidity but to be clean Rivendell is seperate from Lorien but the two elven kingdoms would be familiar with one another and it would be logically assumed due to Seriand's travels and duties that he would have visited the Elven kingdom at least once in his 100+ years eh?

I await the repsonse before formulating my post.

[tomcat]

OOC: Yea Shawn, Rivendell and Lorien are two seperate realms but they have very close ties - especially at this period of time, for Elrond's wife, Celebrian, is Galadriel's daugther. So, as a scout for Lorien, it is possible that Seriand has spent a lot of time on the roads between the two kingdoms as Celebrian was always wont to visit her mother and her realm, and there would have been need for strong escorts back and forth.

I hope this helps...

Tomcat

[Wiseman]

Seriand was still distraught, the trip outside of the area around Bree had picked his spirits up somewhat but until this moment in this place, he was still feeling like a failure.  The vision before him, not that of the beauty of Arwen, but the beauty of the forest before him.  This was his home, the woodlands and among his people, this is where he felt best, where he felt complete.

Spurring Faerdhínen on the elven scout crossed over the boundry and entered the forested realm of Rivendell.  This was not his first trip to Rivendell and the song that the wind played as it blew through the trees reminded Seriand of his previous visit here and his heart hastened the beat.  The song of the wind was more effective to his elven ears than even Tom's song had been...

Tom...such an amazing opportunity squandered!  Seriand should have sat with that incredible man and delved further into the intricacies of the man and his abilities, but alas he had been too inept and distraught, that would not happen again.  As Seriand rode past Arwen he held his hand up and saluted, then tipping his head he gave a slight bow.  "Well met again m'lady, we thank you for your hospitality." 

[tomcat]

"Mae Govannan, Seriand!" Arwen replied as the Company crossed over the ford, "and a warm welcome to you all. The Lord Elrond awaits your presence and the table has been laden with food and drink to slake any hunger or thirst. Come!"

Together, the Company followed along behind Arwen and her escort of five Elves. They rode for another half an hour until they came down into the valley of Rivendell. On the wind could be heard singing and in the air were the sweet smells of spring - trees and plants were blooming and honey bees were a' buzz. It all seemed to the Men and Dwarf to be right, to be Elven and timeless...

A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, sí nef aearon!

The house itself looked as if it were as much a part of the valley as the trees and stone that surrounded it. Fengel remembered being here before but still he was in awe. How his life had changed since he took up with Angbor and Dirnhael... and here he was again within the wonderful realm of the Elves. The Éothraim did not doubt the fact that they were here primarily due to their association with Edrahil, and now Seriand, but still he was honoured to be such a guest!

"Welcome," said Elrond, as he stood once more on the large front porch of his home to greet his guests. The sound of waterfalls were ever present, but Elrond's voice seemed to be clearly heard over all else. The companions dismounted as hands came to take and tend to their mounts. "Welcome Edrahil and Seriand... it is a pleasure again to have our kin of Lindon and Lothlórien once more in our realm. Dirnhael and Fengel, I bid you greetings as well, though I am not familiar with your other two companions. Come, we shall speak more within... dinner awaits."

[Wiseman]

"We thank you for your hospitatliy Lord Elrond.  I am most greatful that our paths have drawn us to your fair realm."  Seriand spoke his greeting and bowed deeply, his hands outstretched in front of him.  The elven scout then followed Elrond into the home per his command.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Many thanks, Lord.  I am Durgil, one of the King's Men of Arthedain," he says with a deep bow and follows his companions along.

[Stefan]

He'd known the elves of Linden and traded with them.  He'd always thought them haughty and arrogant and arwen at her appearnace seemed about the same.  He returned her greeting formally and followed her into Rivendell, a place that he'd heard tales of from the elves o the port. 

Once inside he met Elrond and was impressed by the man/elf but notw as awed as he'd expected.

"Greetings Lord Elrond.  Thank you for the hospitality.  Master Nain Steelthewes at your serivce."

[tomcat]

Elrond nodded his head to Seriand as he entered, and also made a cordial nod to Durgil and then Nain in their passing. The Company walked into the airy first hall of Imladris and marvelled at the filigreed architecture; even Nain of the Blue Mountains was impressed by the work of the Elves. It was not stone, but their craftsman were great indeed.

As they walked, Elrond addressed Nain, "I see by your garb and beard ornamentations, you are not of Durin's folk, whom we most often see, but of the House of Uri in the Blue Mountains. How fares your kin and do you still maintain strong relations with our Elven folk of Lindon?"

While he talked, the group walked out onto a large, open-aired porch that was all but empty except for a few servants who prepared a table and a minstrel that softly played, only to stop and note a few words on parchment and then begin again. The lofty ceiling of the porch was held up by many beams of wood that were carved to look like trees - maybe they were living trees - whose limbs stretched out to create the lattice support above. A distant, foamy, white waterfall tumbled down from a cliff above into a large pool and stream that roiled under the porch and house, its clean smell evident in the air. Though the falls were close, the roar of the water seemed suppressed and did not overcome the ability to talk or hear the minstrel's lute.

Elrond spoke again, "I would speak to you all but I have pressing business at the moment. This meal has been prepared for you along with comfortable rooms for your stay. Forgive me now, but we shall talk again tonight."

With that Elrond excused himself and left the Company in the capable hands of the Silvan Elf servants that waited for them to sit and partake.

OOC: Actions? Or conversations?

[sdrotar]

OOC: Sorry I went AWOL last week... went to cover the NBA All-Star game, but it all came together really late. LeBron says hello... 


If I may flashback a bit...

Arwen was breathtaking. Her long black tresses reminded him of Ioreth, and for more than a moment, he missed her deeply. He was quiet during the voyage to Imladris; he was respectful and perhaps even a bit intimidated by the Elves, and he enjoyed the sounds of the wild all around him, peaceful and ethereal...

When the group reached Rivendell proper, Dirnhael stared in awe once again at the beauty, both natural and otherwise, that surrounded him. After all the dark places they had visited, all the dark times they had fought through, to see Imladris in all it's glory revitalized him, renewed him once more.

He bowed deeply to Elrond, still amazed that the great Elf, one of the near-legendary denizens of Middle-Earth, knew his name and face, and that he had been so privileged to meet with him twice in one lifetime.

Dirnhael had come from a simple background, and now here he was, a Knight of Arthedain, a leader of men, scourge of the worm Scatha, and now, an Elf-Friend. How remarkable and unpredictable life truly was...

***

After the dinner, Dirnhael relayed the tale of their trek North - the search for Ephanial and the loss of Angbor; how the Company with Edrahil's aid had saved the prince of Arthedain; the retrieval of Camentir and the defeat of Scatha on the frozen plain... and how the cost included another dear friend, Lunduf, who was with them on their last visit to the land of Elrond.

Dirnhael had seen for himself  that Imladris held a place for items of history, borne by great deeds of Elf and Men alike, and as such, he offered the shards of the ancient Elven blade - Anduring, the long-cold of Nargothrond - to Elrond himself. "I have been honored to wield this weapon for the Free Peoples, and I hope that I have done it justice. It's tip lies within the foul worm Scatha, and it now lies broken within this scabbard. It was fashioned by the Elves long ago, and so unto you, I entrust Anduring; do with it as you may with my thanks."

OOC: Hey Shawn, I added a couple of things just so when I copied it into the compiled chapters, Dirnhael recounted all to Elrond (i.e. loss of Angbor). Great post!

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil continued to sit in awe of his surroundings.  Between courses, he would engage the elves about him in conversation to learn of Imadris, its people, and its lord.  He knew a little of the land from his studies as a youth, but the elves were not much more forthcoming as they saw to their duties.  The food was light and yet filling, a most wonderful fare even if they had been long on the trail since Fornost.

Feeling quite good and maybe a bit presumptuous, Durgil queries the table, "So, what do you suppose is the lord's pressing business?  There can't be much that could assail this land, if anything."

[Wiseman]

The meal, was per usual for those of his race, superb.  Seriand enjoyed the meal, enjoying something for the first time in a matter of days.  The elf watched his new comrades and tried to read them, what were they thinking, how was this experience changing them?

Then Durgil spoke of lord Elrond's task.  "Its is unfortunate, but the realms of the elves are always under assail, be it from outside forces or from the forces of nature.  The elves tend to keep their affairs in better shape than those of the other races."

[Stefan]

"Aye, Lord, my kin do well in the Blue mountains and I have personally visited Lindon with my brother on many occasions.  Sadly, he was killed by a demon spider during the trip east to the human's lands.  Tis a beautiful port and the elves there are uncomparable craftsmen."

[tomcat]

[Arrival at Imladris and before the dinner - Elrond and Nain speaking:]

"Aye, Lord, my kin do well in the Blue mountains and I have personally visited Lindon with my brother on many occasions.  Sadly, he was killed by a demon spider during the trip east to the human's lands.  Tis a beautiful port and the elves there are uncomparable craftsmen."

Elrond smiled at the courteous words of the Dwarf, but he felt for his loss - Elrond knew what it was to lose a brother. "It is good to hear that relations between Elves and Dwarves are still strong during these challenging times. Come Master Dwarf, we have prepared a fine meal for you and your comrades."

[During the dinner - Durgil, Seriand and Edrahil speak:]

Feeling quite good and maybe a bit presumptuous, Durgil queries the table, "So, what do you suppose is the lord's pressing business?  There can't be much that could assail this land, if anything."

Then Durgil spoke of lord Elrond's task.  "Its is unfortunate, but the realms of the elves are always under assail, be it from outside forces or from the forces of nature.  The elves tend to keep their affairs in better shape than those of the other races."

Edrahil sipped at his wine and listened to his comrades converse. Seriand was correct, the Elves and their realms had always been struggling against the dark powers, but the absence of their host did not necessarily mean Rivendell was currently under threat.

"We cannot assume that the lack of Elrond's presence means that Rivendell is at peril. You above most should realize Durgil the many needs that the Lord of a realm must fulfill. T'is most likely the case here, Master Elrond sees to some other matter of state."

[After the dinner - Elrond and Dirnhael speak within the Hall of Fire:]

After the dinner, Dirnhael relayed the tale of their trek North - the search for Ephanial and the loss of Angbor; how the Company with Edrahil's aid had saved the prince of Arthedain; the retrieval of Camentir and the defeat of Scatha on the frozen plain... and how the cost included another dear friend, Lunduf, who was with them on their last visit to the land of Elrond.

Dirnhael had seen for himself  that Imladris held a place for items of history, borne by great deeds of Elf and Men alike, and as such, he offered the shards of the ancient Elven blade - Anduring, the long-cold of Nargothrond - to Elrond himself. "I have been honored to wield this weapon for the Free Peoples, and I hope that I have done it justice. It's tip lies within the foul worm Scatha, and it now lies broken within this scabbard. It was fashioned by the Elves long ago, and so unto you, I entrust Anduring; do with it as you may with my thanks."

Elrond took from Dirnhael the scabbard in which the broken blade resided. The Elf rubbed long, fragile looking fingers along the length of the ornate leather sheath and his mind seemed to be elsewhere. He looked up at Dirnhael and gave a bleak smile, "I was not yet born when the realm of Finrod was at its peak... nor was I when it was deserted. All that I do know is that the Noldorin smiths of that fair city crafted some of the greatest weapons, only matched by those of Gondolin - their works were both beautiful and the bane of the fell-creatures that were slave to Morgoth."

His eyes continued to stare off, "It is ironic that the intended purpose of this blade was to defend against the great dragons, yet it was Glaurung - mightiest of all - that laid ruin to the city." Then Elrond looked to Dirnhael again, "It seems fitting that Anduring should now reside here, an artifact of a time almost forgotten, but nay... long has this blade been given unto Men and in their hands it has served the greatest. To their hands it need be returned. There are smiths amongst my folk here Dirnhael that remember the fires of Nargothrond's forges... perhaps they can see this blade renewed. Leave it with me for the duration of your stay here and I shall see what can be done. If it is deemed that the blade is hopelessly lost, then it shall certainly have a place here amongst the other treasures of Elves and Men for surely it has been our combined efforts that have kept the Enemy at bay."

Elrond handed the scabbard to another Elf that stood nearby, who took it with a nod. The master of Rivendell then put his hand on Dirnhael's shoulder and directed him in another direction, "Come, I would have you more formally meet my daughter Arwen, she is the light of my eye and mirrors her mothers beauty. Celebrian, my wife, is in Lothlorien with my sons... she spends many springs in the fair realm of her mother."

As they walked through the hall, filled as it was with many folk, Dirnhael noticed Elrond giving him a peculiar look... as if something were amiss. To the great Elf Master, he looked upon the Dunadan and in his mind he saw a woman holding a child, a male child, and for a moment Elrond felt that to this child he would have to give up one that he cherished most. A numbness fell over Elrond's heart, but he shook it off and led Dirnhael to his daughter.

Behind both, Fengel strode along. Since the death of Lunduf, he had yet to take to his new comrades. He felt a kinship with Dirnhael but the Eothraim was not one to speak with great lords, regarding great matters. Still, he stayed close to his commander... his friend.