Chapter 1: Journey Into Caras Galadhon
The ground shook and the trees trembled. The whole of Middle-Earth seemed to resound with a powerful rumble. Deep in the forest of Mirkwood all creatures felt the land echo with a muffled roar. A dwarf with a dull reddish-brown beard looked up from the axe he had been cleaning. What was that? he asked his companion, an elf.
The rocks are calling. I do not know what they say.
There was silence now. The dark forest itself seemed to be holding it's breath, waiting to see what would happen next; but all that could be heard was the dying echoes of the tremor.
Many miles to the South West of Mirkwood, in the wood of Lorien, a rider appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He was dressed in robes of midnight blue. His horse, a black steed, of noble lineage. On his back was a quiver filled with arrows, and an elven bow. Sheathed by his side was an elven sword made of mithril. This man was young, and could not be passed the age of 18. He had deep chestnut hair and a lean build. His eyes were wide, filled with surprise. It really worked! Gazing around him he said, so this is the wood of Lorien... A look of wonder passed his face, like one seeing a portrait of a place long forgotten. He spurred his horse further, and only the sound of twittering birds and an occasional breeze could be heard.
The day wore on and the sun started to set when he reached a river. he murmured. Suddenly he looked about him, searching. His steed seemed to sense something as well, for it nickered softly and danced on the spot. An arrow hissed by his legs and landed with a muffled thud in the grass beneath his horse. Quick as thought, the young man drew his sword from his scabbard and it rang with song in the golden-pink light of sunset.
Who enters the Wood of the Lady of Lorien? A voice called out from among the trees.
Tomor, son of Faloroth. I am no enemy, guardian of the Wood. My only hatred is for the Orcs and other fowl creatures of like. He re-sheathed his sword.
That has yet to be seen. None enters these woods and leaves it's rooted threshold alive without the blessing of the Lady, the voice answered. What is your business here?
My affair is with the lady Galadriel of Lothlorien. I mean no harm to those who mean none to me. Will you take me to her? A man dropped from the trees with a soft thump. However this was not a mortal man at all, but an elf with long blonde hair and a fierce gaze.
I am Haldir of the elves of Lothlorien. We will escort you to the Lady. However where we will take you horses cannot venture. You will have to leave him. My brother Orophin will attend to his safety. Tomor nodded. Dismounting, he whispered to his steed, Do not wander too far Varloth, and obey Orophin. The stallion snorted in response.
Out from under the trees dropped seven more elves. Each had a bow and a quiver of arrows.
We could have shot you long ago, and although Sauron's evil has been defeated we are still wary. As a dragon with it's dying gasp can still kill with the flick of it's tail.
Haldir, along with the company of elves and Tomor, journeyed forth to city of Caras Galadhon. On their second day an elf, by the name of Endarill brought tidings from Galadriel herself.
I was to bid welcome Tomor, son of Faloroth to the land of Lothlorien. I was also to say that he goes with the lady's blessing. Your coming has been much waited for, and you have been expected. Tomor frowned inwardly at this. He had not planned to come here... not really. They journeyed with speed and in a few more days they reached the city of the Galadhrim, where dwelt the wise and powerful Galadriel and her husband Celeborn. They climbed many stairs and Tomor was brought into an oval chamber. Many elves were seated in this room and upon their thrones sat the rulers of Lorien. Both elves stood when the company arrived.
Greetings son of Faloroth. Long has it been since a man of the great North traveled so far to the South, and longer still journeyed to the Wood.
Tomor bowed. It is a great honor to be standing in your halls Lord Celeborn. I have long looked forward to our meeting.
Do you bring word from Karloth? the Lady Galadriel asked.
Yes-I have a message for you to be given by my hand alone, Tomor said, drawing out a letter from beneath his robes and handing it to Galadriel.
You are tired from your journey. Here you will find some long needed rest. May the star of Earendil guide you in your sleep.
Tomor did not rest immediately. Instead, he wandered around, gazing at the intricate buildings. The air itself seemed to differ than that of the North. It was cleaner here... and seemed to hold some deep magic. Karloth had told him much of the western land. He was born there; for he was a Dunadan in the elven language, a man of the west. Far he had journeyed and when Tomor's father was killed it was he who raised the lad like his own son. Then but a few months ago Karloth said that it was time for Tomor to travel to the Wood of Lothlorien. Soon he must go, for the elves were fading, and the need to talk with Galadriel was dire.
he had said then, But it would take me at least a year to get to the Wood! Perhaps even more!
This I know Tomor, his guardian has said gravely, Now that the Dark Lord has been defeated there is only a little time.
Time? Time for what Karloth! Why must you always speak in riddles?
Time until she sails across the sea. Her seasons have come to an end young Tomor, and you must seek her council before it is too late. Karloth suddenly locked his grey eyes upon green and said somberly To you I will give a spell of old. It was used by the Kings and Queens of the North, along with this. He drew from an inner pocket an oval amulet of gold. Around it's edges were elvish runes, for it was made by the elves of the great North, now long gone. Pressed under the runes was the form of a circle. In the very center, made of diamonds, was the shape of a rearing unicorn over an obsidian background.
Carry this with you always, Karloth said, It may come of use to you in the near future.
Tomor came out of his memories when he reached a clearing. He walked on further and saw a small garden. His interest increased for the air seemed thick with... with something Tomor could not quite place. His feet seemed to be guiding him somewhere, for they moved without his will. Walking down many steps he came to the end of a silver river. There he saw Galadriel, bathed in ethereal light, gazing into a silver basin. She looked up when he reached the bottom.
You need not be afraid Tomor. I see sleep eludes you. Karloth brings glad news and your coming here is the start of many events that may perhaps change the course of middle earth. Do you know who you truly are Tomor, son of Faloroth? When the young man did not answer she continued, Then let me tell you the history of the Kings of the North and their sad fall into legend.
Well there it is! My first chapter. Do you like it so far?? Pleeeeeeaase review. They keep me living and inspire me to write! Seriously. I'm not kidding. Thanks! ^_^