Prologue: A Favor Requested
The first of the evening stars graced the sky and welcomed twilight to Middle Earth. Gandalf the Grey whispered a silent incantation to set his staff aglow and brought light upon the rocky terrain on the outskirts of Rivendell's borders. He would not be paying a visit to Lord Elrond on this evening. He was seeking another formidable and ancient alley: one that had not been spotted outside the shadows of the world for so long, it was believed by some that she had fled Middle Earth long ago.
Rumors from Mirkwood to Lothlórien spread like wildfire over where she vanished once the High Council with Saruman the White's support banished her from the realms of the elves, her home for over four centuries by the Hough Council's decision was ruled. Rumors of her disappearance detailed her sailing across the great sea to lands unknown to those who inhabit Middle Earth; while others felt her absence only signaled her death.
The most trusted and exaggerated whispers told tales of a dark prophecy. A legend so ancient that few existed that could recall its inception. A secret and unspoken fear of Erdolleil, the Dark One, as she was often known, was only biding her precious time and building an army so vile to lead to ultimate demise of all and bring the most evil of powers to hold dominion over Middle Earth.
The horrid legend of Erdolliel ingrained terror in the hearts of countless elves that her true name was lost to all save those who did not succumb to notions of ancient lore and believed that one had a chance to write a destiny of their own.
She was not without her supporters amongst the elves. Her mother was a powerful, highborn elf beloved by all, and the royal blood of the elves coursed through her veins as well. Her mother had a hand in assuring allies for her daughter, mostly amongst the elves of Rivendell and Lothlórien where her kin reside. Though her mother's championing her cause proved not enough to keep her daughter's place secure amongst the elves after her tragic demise.
Though she had not entered the border of Rivendell or any elven stronghold over a century, she held an unspoken mission to protect the realms of her kin. Lord Elrond knew of her lodging outside the borders of her former home. He knew of the many feats of bravery and the battles versus Orcs that stayed to close, battles that went unknown to all. Lord Elrond was grateful for Rivendell's silent protector.
Gandalf, too, was in her corner. The wizard had been very close to her mother and gave her council after the birth of her marked daughter. After her death, he provided the same council and friendship to her daughter, who he had become rather fond. He sought her out this night for he needed a favor that only one who worn the dark as her own skin could accomplish.
He weaved amongst the trees until he reached a monstrous cavern at the foothills of the Misty Mountains. A massive stone baring a carving of the mark of Erdolliel barred the entrance.
"Edro," Gandalf commanded. The stone slowly rolled sided to spread a warm, welcoming light from within the cavern's walls.
The great wizard ducked into the entrance and stood within the home of Erdolliel.
Lanterns brought golden warmth. Fine, elven-made tapestries, with the assistance of elven magic, draped the cavern walls. Wet stone and endless darkness were soon forgotten. One would not have known it was a mountain cavern had they not traveled to its entrance. A lavishly carved bed, that once could be found within the confines of Rivendell, was nestled in the back of the cavern. Sheer drapes, used as makeshift walls, separated the sleeping quarters from the living space.
A grand, heavy trunk stood at the foot of the bed. The trunk held treasures of countless books, quills and ink, maps and clothes ranging from elaborate elven dresses to practical cloaks, boots and trousers. Near the bed, leaning against the cavern wall were a bow and quiver of arrows and an assortment of swords and knives.
Gandalf stood in the middle of the only other "room." Half of the large space served as a seating area. Two well-use but comfortable cushions with an elven table placed between them stood facing the lone artwork in the cavern. A large frame was home to a life-like painting of a painfully beautiful, fair-haired elfish woman. Her eyes shown a blue so bright the color seemed unnatural. She stood in the arms of a rugged and built mousy-hair mortal man who display the sigil of Gondor on his chest.
The remainder of the cave was purposed as a dining and kitchen area. It was small with limited means and did not have the vast pantries seen in the elven realms, but it served it well served its usage.
Gandalf took note of the two place set at the worn, wooden table. A knowing smile graced his lips. She was expecting him.
He found her kneeling over a fire, preparing fish that he assumed she had caught herself.
Her hair fell to her lower back, and though it was braided in a traditional style of the elves, her hair did not possess the straight and polish look seen within the race. It was wavy, wild unruly as it was since her birth. The raven hair was dark as the blackest and starless night, a stark contrast from the fairness of the elves. In certain light, like that of the lanterns and fire within the cave, red undertones of her raven locks would shine and glow.
Her hair was pulled away form her face, making her ears visible. They were not rounded like mortal men, but her ears were not in the distinctive point of the elves. It was a strange blend of the two races. Her ears held a slight point to indicate she was not a true mortal or a true elf. It was similar to those that raised her and once considered her one of their own, but strikingly different to raise the suspicions of the doom foreseen eons ago.
"Mithrandir" her vice spoke with the musicality of the elves with the hint of wisdom gained from her man years. The playfulness, however, was sill ver present for five and a half centuries was very young in eleven terms. "I have been expecting you for some time. I thought would be at my door much sooner than this."
She had not turned to face him, but continued to tend to her work at the fire.
"Lady Eriathwen," he answered with worth present in his voice that brought a twinkle to his blue eyes. He had not seen his old friend in many decades, and it warmed his heart to see her. He removed his cloak and hat and secured the to the natural coat rack made by the rides of the cave. "I am please to the rumors are false, and you are in fact still among us. You have not been seen, milady, in quite some time."
"Not all would rejoice in that revelations," she replied with mirth. "I assure you, Gandalf, I keep my watch as I have for the last century. I am only seen when I see it fit."
She stood with a skillet of fish in her hand and finally turned to face her old comrade.
Her eyes shined a brilliant green and none failed to noticed them compared to her raven locks. Her skin was place and fair like the elves, and her delicate features showcased the natural beauty of the race. She was quite lovely. A beauty not seen in the likes of mortal men, but she lacked the ethereal glow, inborn grace and true unearthly beauty of the elves. Her smile alone more than made up for any lacking for it could easily light the darkest room without any need of lanterns.
She dressed in functional and form-fitting clothing. Since her banishment, she was rarely seen in the intricate fashion of elven women. She lived amongst the wild. Dresses, ornaments and crowns were useless here. She spied, hunted, tracked and fought foes that crawled out of the shadows. Boots, trousers with a fitted undershirt and vest were common staples in her wardrobe. A forest green cloak was never far behind, whatever she needed to aide her in stealth, swift and lethal movements.
"Come," she gestured to the table were she served the roasted fish with steamed potatoes. "It does not rival the extravagance of my kin, but what is mine is yours, old friend. We have much to discuss of that I am sure."
Eriathwen pour a goblet of red wine for herself and the wizard. The two enjoyed their meal in a comfortable silence. It had been many decades since Eriathwen seen the grey wizard, and it had been even longer she she had shared a table with another.
Eriathwen waited for the meal to come to a close before she spoke.
"Something is coming. The signs have presented themselves."
Her eye held the ominous dread of her warning. Gandalf did not speak. He held the gaze of the half-elf intently. He knew of what she spoke. He had seen the signs as well.
"I have kept a vigil over the borders of Rivendell for a century and a half, and never have I been more active," she continued. Her voice grew heavier with each word. "Rumors of trolls coming down from the mountains in the north. Orc packs roam and travel and gather in strength. Those that worship the dark grow bolder."
"I do not know what is on the horizon," she finished, "but Middle Earth must be prepared. We have lived in peace for long. I fear we have grown far too comfortable, and our guard has grown weak. Something lurks out of sight and out of mind. When it reveals itself, it may be too late."
Gandalf pushed away his empty plate and brought forth his pipe from beneath his robes. He set to work on stuffing and lighting it. A troubled and tired look had fallen upon his face as he ponder over Eriathwen's warning.
"I, too, have read the signs the same as you, my child," he replied after taking a drag of piped and exhaling a magnificent smoke ring. "It sparks memories of the dark timer of our world. Until more is known, we must mark the sightings as mere coincidence and keep a stronger eye on the whispers in the shadows."
"Fearing before a true enemy has announce itself gives power for evil to grow where none exists," he warned. "There is another pressing matter at hand that needs our attention."
"Ah, yes," Eriathwen spoke. A smirk lightly played upon her lips, but the worry of an unnamed fear did not fully leave her eyes. "I heard you have been keeping the company of dwarves as of late."
"What do you know of the dwarf kingdom within the Lonely Mountain?" the wizard questioned.
Eriathwen paused to gather her thoughts and scanned her knowledge of the legends of dwarves.
"The history of how the dwarves claimed the mountain as their won, I cannot say with certainty," she began. "The vast treasures and wealth of the dwarves housed within the halls of Erebor has spread to all corners of Middle Earth and is known by all races. Though no dwarf or any creature has stepped foot within the kingdom of Thrór since Smaug the Terrible drove the dwarves from their home and desolated the city of Dale."
"What interest do you have with Erebor?" she quested Gandalf ever curiously.
"It has been two centuries since Smaug took Erebor and its treasures for his own," wizard replied. "The dragon has not been seen in almost six decades. Thorn Oakenshield, son of Thrain and gradson of King Thór, now leads Durin's Folk in their exile. He has read the signs and deems it time to march on the mountain. He is set to reclaim Erebor."
"I intend to provide his company council and aide on their journey," he explained. "It is time for the King Under the Mountain to reign once more."
"Aren't we a bit old for slaying dragons, Mithrandir?" Eriathwen quipped. Confusion still laced her mind as to why Gandalf has called upon her. "Why should this concern me, old friend?"
"Thorin may be in graver danger than he realize," Gandalf solemnly spoke between puffs of his pipeweed. "He will not be the only one to take notice of the dragon's absence. Others in Middle Earth will seek to claim Erebor and its riches for their own."
Eriathwen stirred from her seat. She methodically removed the plates from the table and began to clean away the remnants from supper as he continued.
"Thorin wis gathering a company to march upon the mountain. He will be seeking the alliance of the dwarven kingdoms throughout Middle Earth in preparation for his quest. The news of Thorin's movements will spread, and I fear into the wrong hands. Others may march as well. The dwarf will be tracked, hunted ...or worse."
"If the Lord Oakenshield requests a guard, he may do so himself," Eriathwen cut through the wizard's speech. Annoyance was present on her breath. She carried the pride of the elves, and to have the dwarf not request help himself was a slight to the half-elf.
"He does not request you help for he does not know he needs it," Gandalf offered in an attempt to quite her offended feelings. "Though, my child, he would not ask for it even if he knew the dangers that lurk ahead."
"Because I am a woman?" Eriathwen questioned pointedly.
"No, my dear," Gandalf replied with a smile. The women before him had spent her lifetime proving herself as skilled as any male warrior of any race. He knew how quick to anger she was when someone questioned her abilities based on her gender. "Dwarven women as just as fierce as their men and will protect their families with all their might. He would not ask for you are an elf."
"Gandalf, I am no elf," she corrected. She subconsciously touched her left wrist and rubbed something hidden by her shirt sleeve. "You know the Valar's decision. I have no choice."
"Yes," he answered with an air of sadness, "but your mother was a daughter of the Lady of the Light and was a most powerful healer amongst her people. She was respected my elves, men and dwarves alike. Her blood is your blood. That is more than enough to deem you an elf, especially in the eyes of a dwarf."
Eriathwen smiled gently at the thought of the rivalry between the elven and dwarves race.
"Thorin will encounter many a dark foe before his company ever forms and steps a foot from its door," Gandalf continued. "I ask you follow him. Keep to the shadows. Do not reveal yourself until I deem it safe."
"I am to betray his trust before I see his face?"
"He must not know he is being followed," he explained. "He must not know what I have asked of you until the time has come. Thorn's guard mustn't be any more heightened. His enemies need to grow confidence to draw them into the light."
"Mithrandir..."
"I would not ask this of you if I did not feel it necessary," he softly spoke. "You are a tenacious warrior that keeps to the shadows as if you were born into them. You will not be seen, and I trust you will protect his life as if it were your own."
"He needs you more than he knows," he finished.
"It has been well over a century since I have left these borders," Eriathwen answered. He voice drenched with ancient pain. "I will return to the light and the conscious of others before this quest is over, you know this. If I return now in the midst of darkness gathering, it will only spark fear."
"YOU'VE BEEN HIDING LONG ENOUGH, ERIATHWEN RAVENWOOD!" Gandalf bellowed. He gathered himself up to look more intimating than ever, and his voice amplified and reverberated throughout the cave. "If the darkness continues to grow and you remain in the shadows, just as much fear will grow of you serving as the puppet master pulling the strings."
"Do you remember the words of your mother before her death?"
A mist covered Eriathwen's eyes. The pain of loss overpowered her as if her mother's death happened mere hours ago and not a century earlier. She turned her gaze upon the lone painting she had of her mother and father.
"You have a hard and lonely path ahead, little one," Eriathwen recalled as thought she was worlds away with her mother. "I will ease the pain while I able, but I will not see the end. Both sides will cite their ancient legends. They will fight to prove theirs are true and drag you to their side. Remember my child: our destinies are not set in stone. You have a choice. Your destiny is yours alone to create You were not born to live up to what was written. You were born to write your own legend."
She brushed away a lone tear that escaped her eye and turned to face the wizard. Her face was set with determination. Her decision had been made. Gandalf has a knowing look on his face. He had seen this look many times before, whether it was on the girl before him or her mother. He knew well what it meant. She was ready for battle. She was prepared to fight.
"Tell me where I must go?"
Hope I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter of Out of the Shadows. It is my first venture into the world of Middle Earth, so it is a learning process. As some of you know, due to my hectic work and graduate school schedule, it is very hard to update regularly. I will not abandon this story ...nor my other two active fictions... I will continue to post and update chapters as often as I can. I know as readers it is frustrating, it is also frustrating as a writer to not be able to dedicate as much time as I would like, but bare with me! I am determine to finish them all.
Though this is just a taste of what is to come, I would love to hear any and all feedback! Thanks for reading! Have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!