PRINCE OF PEACE
The strange tale of Amlaith of Fornost
as told by his sister, Andreth
translated by Soledad
Disclaimer: The characters, the context and the main plot belong to Professor Tolkien, whom I greatly admire. I'm only trying to fill in the gaps he so graciously left for us, fanfic writers, to have some fun. Only Andreth the Wise is mine.
Rating: G
Author's notes:
This is the first part of what will become a series about the little-known history of the Dúnedain kingdoms in Middle-earth. With some fellow writers we have decided to take a closer look at this much-neglected part of Third Age-history. This is only a short appetizer, not even beta-ed, and there will be real introductional stories later. But I thought the 111th birthday of the Great Professor would be the right time to launch a brand new project.
Soledad
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
''After Elendil and Isildur there were eight High Kings of Arnor. After Eärendur, owing to dissensions among his sons their realm was divided into three: Arthedain, Rhuadur and Cardolan. […]
In Arthedain the line of Isildur was maintained and endured, but the line soon perished in Cardolan and Rhuadur. There was often strife between the kingdoms, which hastened the waning of the Dúnedain. The chief matter of debate was the possession of the Weather Hills and the land westward towards Bree. Both Rhuadur and Cardolan desired to possess Amon Súl (Weathertop), which stood on the borders of their realms; for the Tower of Amon Súl held the chief Palantír of the North, and the other two were both in the keeping of Arthedain.''(1) LOTR, Appendix A, Annals of the Kings and Rulers, p. 389.
PROLOGUE BY ANDRETH
[Fornost, the Northburg of the Kings, in the year 946 of the Third Age]
My eldest brother, the King of Arthedain – and, by law and right should-be-High King of all Arnor – has been dead for ten days by now.
He reigned in Arthedain for 72 years.
Arnor, our once-proud realm has been divided into three lesser kingdoms for the same length of time, due to the greed of my younger brothers, Ciryatan and Vardamir, and the even greater hunger for power of our kinsman, Tarannon Falastur, the childless King of Gondor.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
Which I should not do, for this is a long tale, filled with pride and sorrow – the tale of our family and of the downfall of what used to be Elendil's realm, and it ought to be told properly.
And that is what I intend to do, even though I am an old woman now, and my life nears to its end. But by the Lady's grace I might still have a few more years left, so that I can write down the true tale of the sundering of Arnor, so that those who come after us can learn from it and mayhap even avoid some of the mistakes we have made.
Though I have my doubts about that. Men seem not to learn even from their own mistakes, less so from the ones made by others.
Nevertheless, I own my brother to tell his tale, ere his deeds are forgotten. For he was a good King, a wise King, and all he ever laboured for was peace. Alas, that it came for such a high price!
But I wanted to tell these events as they have happened, one after another. My old age seems keeping me distracted.
Ere I begin, let me tell you that you are reading the words of a true witness. I am Andreth(2), called the Wise – if deserved or not, I shall let you be the judge of that – eldest daughter of Eärendur, the last High King of Arnor and his beloved Queen, the Lady Mairen(3).
I am their firstborn child, and I witnessed the births of all my younger siblings. I watched them grow up, get estranged and turn against each other. I watched them tear our kingdom – the very realm that Elendil himself had founded – in peaces, for they craved for power and naught else seemed dear to them than grab it, at any price.
All this has become history by now, and Annúminas, the Tower of the West, Elendil's great city at Lake Evendim is deserted, and we have lived in this cold and crude fortress ever since our father died. Oh, how my heart still yearns for the magnificent walls and towers of Elendil's city! When I close my eyes, I still can se it, the Sunset Tower, rising sheer above the quiet murmurs of the evening breeze on the smooth surface of the silent lake where we used to sail in light, swan-shaped boats in our youth.
Those stones and stairwells, corridors and ramparts had been witnesses of the lives and deeds of eight generations of Elendil's line. A dream of power and beauty it was, with its strong walls and great, white towers, built in the fashion of the Lords of Westernesse, who always built for eternity.
Now 'tis only an empty shell, murmuring in laments after the people and the music and laughter and feasts that are gone, when the cold wind rushes through its crumbling walls and broken pillars.
Mayhap one day a new King shall come to re-forge that which has been broken.
Mayhap one day the great halls of Annúminas shall be re-built and filled with life and music and laughter again.
Mayhap the estranged children of Westernesse shall reconcile one day and unite their strength to keep the lands of Middle-earth safe again, instead of turning on each other in greed.
Yet even if that day may come, I certainly shall not be here to see it. So, 'tis my personal task to write down the tale of our sad kinstrife, so that those who come after us know what happened. I have been the lore-master of my brother's court long enough, after all.
May the Valar give me the strength – and enough time – to do so. For no-one else can do this task for me. No-one else still alive has seen it from as close as I have.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
(1) Well, not exactly. While the palantír of Annúminas doubtlessly was taken to Fornost with the whole court, the Stone of Elostirion on the White Hills was in the keeping of the Elves – more precisely, of Círdan's people.
(2) Andreth is named after the Wise-woman of the House of Bëor. Also called Saelind, Wise-heart, she was a friend of Finrod Felagund, the King of Nargothrond.
(3) Eärendur's wife is named after a Númenórean princess. Since Tolkien hardly ever gives us the names of Queens or other wives of important persons, I had to improvise.