Solitude by SilverDragonWolf
AN: Thanks to all who reviewed any of my stories. It's a really good feeling to now that there's someone out there that read my story.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters as they belong to professor Tolkien that I very much admire. It's the creation of his genius mind and so it should remains. The name Fíriel was taken from one of Tolkien's poem and I'm just borrowing it for a little while. But other names belong to me and so is the character on which the name implies to.
This story started from the year 2941 of the Third Age of the Sun 'till after the fellowship of the ring, though the story will traced back from the year 3429 of the Second Age of the Sun. (It's just a few year before the first overthrow of Sauron). It's linked with scenes from LOTR closely. I don't have any of my character joining the fellowship. Tolkien had chosen the fellowship and I tried followed it. As I said, it's closely linked as the story would be on the scene that Tolkien had left us to ponder our little minds into. Those that he did not write specifically. i.e. the searching of Gollum. Sometimes, though, I have to break this statement, as it would make the story quite impossible to write to make any sense. There's also more romance in this story than in 'The Journey Of A Soul' where it focused more on drama. I hope you like it.
So that's all from my babbling and me. On with the story.
Chapter 1: The Third Istari: Radagast The Brown
Gandalf cast his eyes away from the trees. His mind was filled with fear. Fear that they had let their guard down for too long. Fear that Sauron may come to his full power after many years in hiding. Why did he let Saruman overrules him? Now, it's clear that Sauron is seeking for The One and perhaps they cannot stop him anymore. Dread came upon his heart as he wandered of what will befall them should The Ring come to Sauron's hand again. No. He will not let it happen. He will stop Sauron with every power that the Valar bestowed him even if it means sacrificing his own life.
He looked still to the horizon, waiting for his friend to come. It has been a long time since he met his old friend, Saruman and Radagast. The last time they met was on another meeting of the White Council, though Radagast and Saruman have a close relationship and met every now and then. Knowing that it would probably be a while until any of them will come, he turned around to meet the gaze of Elrond.
"What do you think we should do, Mithrandir?" Elrond was discussing the plan of the battle with Galadriel and it seems that the two of them could not find an agreement. Gandalf walked slowly toward them, leaning heavily on his staff. The world has left him wearier every passing age. It seemed that the problem with this One Ring would have no end.
"I think we should attack Dol Guldur from the east of Anduin, Mithrandir," Elrond spoke, "With the vast amount of armies we have, it will be with great difficulty for us to attack under the shade of Mirkwood. And am I wrong to say that Mirkwood is a dangerous place."
"But have you forgotten, Lord Elrond, that you have the Galadhrim amongst you. Their strength laid amongst the trees," a familiar voice greeted them. Radagast appeared with Saruman beside him. A raven perched on his shoulder as usual. "Is it not what you are worried about, Lady Galadriel?"
"Indeed, it is so, Radagast the Brown. I fear that I will send the Galadhrim for nothing."
"Then what shall we do?"
"Do not send the Galadhrim." Saruman looked at the rest of the Council. The look of disbelief was plainly written on their face.
"But we need all the help we can get, Saruman. We need the Galadhrim for we will be out numbered then." Gandalf spoke for the first time.
"I understand that. But if sending the Galadhrim is to no avail, then what is the use of sending them at all?" All was silent at this statement. It was true what he said yet they also could not win this battle with the number of elves they have without the Galadhrim. They will lose for sure. The silent was broken by Gandalf's voice.
"Is it possible to ask the elves in Mirkwood to help us also? They could attack Dol Guldur from the wood for their strength also laid amongst the trees."
"It would take a very long time for us to travel all the way to their Kingdom and back to Dol Guldur just to ask for their assistance, Mithrandir. It would also be impossible for us to travel fast with the amount of elves we have." Elrond objected to this idea.
"But it is a good idea, Gandalf. A brilliant idea if not," Saruman said, "All we need is a messenger." He looked at Radagast and Radagast seemed to understand his meaning.
"I agree, Gandalf. What we need is a messenger."
"But who will be fast enough to go all the way to the realm of Thranduil and go back to Dol Guldur before the battle even ended?" Galadriel looked at the rest of the Council. No one seemed to be able to do the task.
"There is one who might be able to." Radagast said reading Galadriel's troubled mind. The council looked at him with outmost curiosity. All except Saruman who had given the advice in the first place. Then he commanded, "Come, show yourself!"
For a moment nothing happened then the raven on Radagast shoulder flew and shape-shift in front of them. In it place stood a figure in black robe with hood upon its face and a staff in its hand. It turned to face Radagast, ready to do what its master bids it to do.
Elrond gave the figure a cynical look. He could not simply trust a bird that turned into a man (if the figure *is* a man). He could not trust anything, it seems, the last couple of years, with the condition of the world they live in; it was hard to trust anyone. But it seemed that there was no other way. After all, Radagast know of this mysterious person.
"There is not much time left. You know of what to do." Radagast said urgently.
The figure stood nodded in agreement straight away. It stared into the horizon but it did nothing otherwise. Not a single movement nor noise escaped from it. The council simply looked at the figure. Not knowing of what it would do then out from the sky came the most magnificent creature they had ever seen.
First, all they could make out was a dark shadow. As it advanced, they could saw its shape, a silhouette against the orange sky. Its great wings beating now and then to keep it aloof, the feathers glistened in the setting sun. A great eagle flew down in front of the hooded figure. It gazed intently at the magic-user in front of it as if they were in deep conversation. Nodding slightly, the black figure mounted on top of it, taking great care not to let the hood that covered its face fell. The eagle seemed to take no burden from its weight and with a sweep from its wing, lifted them both to their destination, Mirkwood.
Radagast saw the two disappear over the horizon and sighed, trying to eased the burden that had settled in his heart. "Who is this magic-user, Radagast?" Gandalf asked after a brief moment of silent. He saw the grief in Radagast eyes as the figure disappeared from their visions and wondered at this. "Why do you worry so?"
"The mage is my apprentice but my worry is on the battle. Come my friends. There are still many things to attend to and already night is approaching." And with that Radagast the Brown left the council.
********************
Fíriel held the feathers on the eagle's neck gently, knowing that she would not fell from the back of her trustful friend. Her mind bidded him to go on. Fire burned in her heart as she remembered of her past. Hatred burned there and a deep desire to finished what he left her.
Her mind wandered back and a thousand year, a thousand passed years flashed back in front of her. A longing slipped inside her heart. Oh, how much she missed his presence and his warm embrace. But those years passed and gone like autumn leaves, blown away by the wind and she knew it could not be returned to her. She gritted her teeth. How many times had she decided to leave this wretched world if not for the promised she gave him? She could not fail him. Her father.
Yet what good has it done to her? All these years she sustained, gaining naught but nightmares to haunt her mind. Gaining naught but bitter memories at how many times she failed herself. Her dignity gone long ago and now she was but an empty soul. No spirit, no emotion, nothing.
Forcing herself to forget her bitter past, she held close to the eagle's body. Her staff clasped tightly in her slender arm. Drawing warmth from under the feathers, she remembered once more of her father and closed her eyes.
Gwaihir the Windlord flew with great speed. He knew the purpose of this journey he needed to make. He knew that his friends depended on him to reached the eaves of Mirkwood before the sun set again in the east. Below him laid a vast plain with no tree in sight but infront of him, he could saw trees towering in the horizon. Mirkwood was visible in his vision yet it was so hard to be reached.
The eagle did not rest. Not while the burden was placed on his shoulder. Softly, he felt Fíriel's hand around him. He knew that she would soon sleep but even as he realised this, he also noticed that her will still rang in his mind, bidding him to go on. He knew the depth of her hatred, her ambitions and her passions. He knew of her closer than anyone else save one, or two perhaps. She had travelled with him for such a long time that he was accustomed with her presence.
And so he knew that soon enough, he would hear the tune again. It had always sang in her mind everytime she fell asleep. And as her mind was linked to him, he could also hear it along with her urgent note to keep on going with their pursuit.
The tune woven itself again in her mind, lulling Fíriel to sleep. The same tune, the same voice. An elven lady sang in her mind, unfaltered throughout the night. Singing the song in endless motion. The song might aswell be the source of her strength. Another reason why Fíriel was still sane enough to kept on going. Her past had changed many things from her. Too many. This and her never ending hatred would be the reason why she was still able to called Gwaihir to her need, the reason why she could still see the sun set in the west, the reason why she still lived.
Ok, obviously, nothing much happened in this chapter. I hope I haven't change so much from the original story and that the strategy can be understood. No romance yet, but expect it to come very soon. Like next chapter or maybe after. And please tell me whether my character is a Mary Sue or not. I've never could quite understand the term.
AN: Thanks to all who reviewed any of my stories. It's a really good feeling to now that there's someone out there that read my story.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters as they belong to professor Tolkien that I very much admire. It's the creation of his genius mind and so it should remains. The name Fíriel was taken from one of Tolkien's poem and I'm just borrowing it for a little while. But other names belong to me and so is the character on which the name implies to.
This story started from the year 2941 of the Third Age of the Sun 'till after the fellowship of the ring, though the story will traced back from the year 3429 of the Second Age of the Sun. (It's just a few year before the first overthrow of Sauron). It's linked with scenes from LOTR closely. I don't have any of my character joining the fellowship. Tolkien had chosen the fellowship and I tried followed it. As I said, it's closely linked as the story would be on the scene that Tolkien had left us to ponder our little minds into. Those that he did not write specifically. i.e. the searching of Gollum. Sometimes, though, I have to break this statement, as it would make the story quite impossible to write to make any sense. There's also more romance in this story than in 'The Journey Of A Soul' where it focused more on drama. I hope you like it.
So that's all from my babbling and me. On with the story.
Chapter 1: The Third Istari: Radagast The Brown
Gandalf cast his eyes away from the trees. His mind was filled with fear. Fear that they had let their guard down for too long. Fear that Sauron may come to his full power after many years in hiding. Why did he let Saruman overrules him? Now, it's clear that Sauron is seeking for The One and perhaps they cannot stop him anymore. Dread came upon his heart as he wandered of what will befall them should The Ring come to Sauron's hand again. No. He will not let it happen. He will stop Sauron with every power that the Valar bestowed him even if it means sacrificing his own life.
He looked still to the horizon, waiting for his friend to come. It has been a long time since he met his old friend, Saruman and Radagast. The last time they met was on another meeting of the White Council, though Radagast and Saruman have a close relationship and met every now and then. Knowing that it would probably be a while until any of them will come, he turned around to meet the gaze of Elrond.
"What do you think we should do, Mithrandir?" Elrond was discussing the plan of the battle with Galadriel and it seems that the two of them could not find an agreement. Gandalf walked slowly toward them, leaning heavily on his staff. The world has left him wearier every passing age. It seemed that the problem with this One Ring would have no end.
"I think we should attack Dol Guldur from the east of Anduin, Mithrandir," Elrond spoke, "With the vast amount of armies we have, it will be with great difficulty for us to attack under the shade of Mirkwood. And am I wrong to say that Mirkwood is a dangerous place."
"But have you forgotten, Lord Elrond, that you have the Galadhrim amongst you. Their strength laid amongst the trees," a familiar voice greeted them. Radagast appeared with Saruman beside him. A raven perched on his shoulder as usual. "Is it not what you are worried about, Lady Galadriel?"
"Indeed, it is so, Radagast the Brown. I fear that I will send the Galadhrim for nothing."
"Then what shall we do?"
"Do not send the Galadhrim." Saruman looked at the rest of the Council. The look of disbelief was plainly written on their face.
"But we need all the help we can get, Saruman. We need the Galadhrim for we will be out numbered then." Gandalf spoke for the first time.
"I understand that. But if sending the Galadhrim is to no avail, then what is the use of sending them at all?" All was silent at this statement. It was true what he said yet they also could not win this battle with the number of elves they have without the Galadhrim. They will lose for sure. The silent was broken by Gandalf's voice.
"Is it possible to ask the elves in Mirkwood to help us also? They could attack Dol Guldur from the wood for their strength also laid amongst the trees."
"It would take a very long time for us to travel all the way to their Kingdom and back to Dol Guldur just to ask for their assistance, Mithrandir. It would also be impossible for us to travel fast with the amount of elves we have." Elrond objected to this idea.
"But it is a good idea, Gandalf. A brilliant idea if not," Saruman said, "All we need is a messenger." He looked at Radagast and Radagast seemed to understand his meaning.
"I agree, Gandalf. What we need is a messenger."
"But who will be fast enough to go all the way to the realm of Thranduil and go back to Dol Guldur before the battle even ended?" Galadriel looked at the rest of the Council. No one seemed to be able to do the task.
"There is one who might be able to." Radagast said reading Galadriel's troubled mind. The council looked at him with outmost curiosity. All except Saruman who had given the advice in the first place. Then he commanded, "Come, show yourself!"
For a moment nothing happened then the raven on Radagast shoulder flew and shape-shift in front of them. In it place stood a figure in black robe with hood upon its face and a staff in its hand. It turned to face Radagast, ready to do what its master bids it to do.
Elrond gave the figure a cynical look. He could not simply trust a bird that turned into a man (if the figure *is* a man). He could not trust anything, it seems, the last couple of years, with the condition of the world they live in; it was hard to trust anyone. But it seemed that there was no other way. After all, Radagast know of this mysterious person.
"There is not much time left. You know of what to do." Radagast said urgently.
The figure stood nodded in agreement straight away. It stared into the horizon but it did nothing otherwise. Not a single movement nor noise escaped from it. The council simply looked at the figure. Not knowing of what it would do then out from the sky came the most magnificent creature they had ever seen.
First, all they could make out was a dark shadow. As it advanced, they could saw its shape, a silhouette against the orange sky. Its great wings beating now and then to keep it aloof, the feathers glistened in the setting sun. A great eagle flew down in front of the hooded figure. It gazed intently at the magic-user in front of it as if they were in deep conversation. Nodding slightly, the black figure mounted on top of it, taking great care not to let the hood that covered its face fell. The eagle seemed to take no burden from its weight and with a sweep from its wing, lifted them both to their destination, Mirkwood.
Radagast saw the two disappear over the horizon and sighed, trying to eased the burden that had settled in his heart. "Who is this magic-user, Radagast?" Gandalf asked after a brief moment of silent. He saw the grief in Radagast eyes as the figure disappeared from their visions and wondered at this. "Why do you worry so?"
"The mage is my apprentice but my worry is on the battle. Come my friends. There are still many things to attend to and already night is approaching." And with that Radagast the Brown left the council.
********************
Fíriel held the feathers on the eagle's neck gently, knowing that she would not fell from the back of her trustful friend. Her mind bidded him to go on. Fire burned in her heart as she remembered of her past. Hatred burned there and a deep desire to finished what he left her.
Her mind wandered back and a thousand year, a thousand passed years flashed back in front of her. A longing slipped inside her heart. Oh, how much she missed his presence and his warm embrace. But those years passed and gone like autumn leaves, blown away by the wind and she knew it could not be returned to her. She gritted her teeth. How many times had she decided to leave this wretched world if not for the promised she gave him? She could not fail him. Her father.
Yet what good has it done to her? All these years she sustained, gaining naught but nightmares to haunt her mind. Gaining naught but bitter memories at how many times she failed herself. Her dignity gone long ago and now she was but an empty soul. No spirit, no emotion, nothing.
Forcing herself to forget her bitter past, she held close to the eagle's body. Her staff clasped tightly in her slender arm. Drawing warmth from under the feathers, she remembered once more of her father and closed her eyes.
Gwaihir the Windlord flew with great speed. He knew the purpose of this journey he needed to make. He knew that his friends depended on him to reached the eaves of Mirkwood before the sun set again in the east. Below him laid a vast plain with no tree in sight but infront of him, he could saw trees towering in the horizon. Mirkwood was visible in his vision yet it was so hard to be reached.
The eagle did not rest. Not while the burden was placed on his shoulder. Softly, he felt Fíriel's hand around him. He knew that she would soon sleep but even as he realised this, he also noticed that her will still rang in his mind, bidding him to go on. He knew the depth of her hatred, her ambitions and her passions. He knew of her closer than anyone else save one, or two perhaps. She had travelled with him for such a long time that he was accustomed with her presence.
And so he knew that soon enough, he would hear the tune again. It had always sang in her mind everytime she fell asleep. And as her mind was linked to him, he could also hear it along with her urgent note to keep on going with their pursuit.
The tune woven itself again in her mind, lulling Fíriel to sleep. The same tune, the same voice. An elven lady sang in her mind, unfaltered throughout the night. Singing the song in endless motion. The song might aswell be the source of her strength. Another reason why Fíriel was still sane enough to kept on going. Her past had changed many things from her. Too many. This and her never ending hatred would be the reason why she was still able to called Gwaihir to her need, the reason why she could still see the sun set in the west, the reason why she still lived.
Ok, obviously, nothing much happened in this chapter. I hope I haven't change so much from the original story and that the strategy can be understood. No romance yet, but expect it to come very soon. Like next chapter or maybe after. And please tell me whether my character is a Mary Sue or not. I've never could quite understand the term.