The year 1695. of the Second Age
I sat in my council chambers listening to one of my scouts that were ordered to cross the river of Glanduin, and gather news of Sauron's presence in the lands south. I have a massive headache. And things weren't getting better.
"His armies are close " says the scout, "and they are strong, for not only orcs march with him. He has gathered to him the Easterlings and the Southrons. Heavy cavalry and spearman of Rhûn, the light cavalry and infantry of the south. We will be hard pressed, my lord. "
I allow myself a deep sigh. So, that's what Sauron was up to after his departure from Eregion. Not a great surprise there. The poor Atani were always easily seduced by promises of power. Rising from my seat, I send the tired warrior to get some food and sleep. Guilt started tearing me apart. It is my fault, all of it.
"That is not true and stop thinking like that " said a voice behind me. Celeborn came during the scout's report. I sometimes hate the way the older elf can read my thoughts.
"He used you. He manipulated your faith and hope for a better tomorrow. You wanted to do good. There is no shame in that " says Celeborn while quickly scanning the maps on the table.
"Only because I allowed him. " came the tired reply. I was staring through the wall again. The bloody pride of the house of Fëanor always helped the enemy. " Seems the curse of our house has finnaly caught up with me" I thought. "I was a fool for thinking it ended in Nargothrond."
"On the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever. ...". I know the words well. Long have they haunted my dreams.
"You can not allow self-pity in this hour. You have a duty to your people. You are the lord of Eregion. Act like that! " snaps Celeborn angrily. He is right. My grandfather meet his death laughing. So i shake off the shackles of desperation and move to the maps.
" We need to gather our forces. I want every capable elf to be ready by tomorow. Send messengers to Durin. We need the people of Khazad-dûm." I look at the scowl forming on Celeborn's face. After so much time, he still has not forgotten the fall of Doriath.
"You know well that we need them. " I whisper softly. " They are a strong and valiant people." His back stiffens. "I know." He grins bitterly to himself.
My plan is simple. Move out and hit hard. Buy time for my people to escape. Hound every move of the enemy. Messengers are dispatched to Lindon with a request for aid from the High King. We know we can not hold for long. Even the city of Ost-in-Edhil, my capital, is not created for defense. There are no tall walls to hide behind.
Our army has to be our shield. I move to the balcony overlooking the city. Tall white spires rise, fountains echo with the sound of water that is glistening on the moonlight. My city. My people. I will die for them. I will redeem myself in their eyes.