Barahir's Deliverance
Part I
In the year 2500 of the third age, the elf-maid Aeocondren was born to Yavanna and Umbil in the Woodland realm of Thranduil. While still a very young child, her parents made the decision to depart over the Sea with Celebrian, who had been severely wounded by the spider's poison. However, when the time came for them to leave, they were detained, and Celebrian traveled on without them. Umbil chose to stay in Mirkwood until his daughter was older, that she might be educated and grow among others of her kind.
For almost five hundred years Aeocondren dwelt in Thranduil's kingdom; then, in 2990, her father was killed in a surprise attack by the orcs while out hunting on the further edges of Mirkwood. Aeocondren's mother, Yavanna, broken-hearted over Umbil's death, made ready to depart for the Undying Lands. Aeocondren was to accompany her, although it was not the young elf's will to depart from Middle-Earth so soon.
Alas! While they traversed from Mirkwood and were almost to the Shire where they would pass through to the Tower and the Harbor, a band of wandering orcs fell upon them. ...
Screams and shrieks rose all around. Many of the elves were taken unawares, intent only on the peaceful thought of the Journey over the Sea they were soon to have undertaken. Those who could whipped out their bows and instantly began firing arrows at the attacking orcs.
Aeocondren was riding towards the back of the column with the last of the escort, when she heard the commotion. Almost at once her sharp ears pricked at the sound of a harsh voice crying out in ugly tones.
"Yrch!" the elf next to her shouted. They galloped towards the head of the line, making ready their bows.
"No room for arrows, knife-work here!" Aeocondren yelled. All of the elves carried some kind of knife or sword. They fought with all their strength, but the orcs were too many. One by one the elves fell under the sheer weight of the number of their foes. Fighting for her life, Aeocondren saw her mother go down under a wave of roaring goblins. She fought her way over to her and struggled to lift Yavanna up. The elf's face was white, and she clutched at a dagger in her side.
"No," she whispered as her daughter tried to help her, "fly! Save yourself, we are doomed..." she pulled something out of her tunic and pressed it into her daughter's hand. "Here, you must take this. Do not put it on, or the power it possesses will begin to take over your mind. Do not let the enemy..." she shuddered, and strained to complete her sentence. "Do not let anyone have it except the Son of the Trees! Go to him; he will know what to do..." her voice died out, and she sunk back into her daughter's arms. Her spirit had departed.
"Aeocondren, go!" the young elf turned and saw one of her friends battling a huge goblin. The warrior yelled at her, "We're doomed! Flee to Rivendell!"
"No!" Aeocondren cried, as an axe whirred through the air and struck the elf a glancing blow in his side. The young elf grunted and fell to his knees. "Leave, Aeocondren, now!"
He was covered by a crowd of orcs. Everywhere the elves were falling. Aeocondren took one last look and fled into the forest back towards the way they had come.
A group of orcs saw her run, and followed her, roaring in their foul language. One of them shot at her with an ill-made arrow, which nevertheless thudded into her side and made her gasp and stumble for a moment.
Suddenly, Aeocondren stopped, almost falling into a deep gully that yawned in front of her. She desperately looked for a way across. The orcs came shrieking out of the trees. She began to run along the edge of the rift, finally finding an old tree that had fallen across it. Running unsteadily over the canyon, she stopped half way as she realized the orcs were following her!
Emptying her last arrows into their ranks, she wavered on the narrow tree; her only weapon left was a dagger and her now useless bow. The orcs crowded along the opposite bank, jeering.
"Give up," they hissed, "you are defeated!"
Aeocondren drew herself up tall. "Never!" she shouted.
"Rac, terhante, mi'i esse Aldaron Orome, ni ello elyena hante mi'i Iluvatar esse!"
At her words, the tree under her feet shook. Then, amid the howls of the enraged goblins, it shattered into a thousand pieces as Aeocondren leapt clear safely to the other side of the crevice. She instantly took cover as the orcs sent a volley of arrows hurtling after her.
After a while, though, her enemies left, cursing. She scrambled shakily out of the bushes, fell, got up again, and set out unsteadily. How far she traveled, she never knew. A fever took hold of her weakened body, and loss of blood finally brought her to a halt.
"Yavanna, where are you?" she murmured dazedly. Death was still incomprehensible to the youthful elf. She blacked out, lying where she had dragged herself under a patch of ferns.
Part II
Two hobbits tramped cheerfully through the woods. The afternoon was sunny and bright, and though they were not too far from home, they were carrying enough provisions as if they were going to live through a seven- year famine. The eldest, a lad of twenty-two (about 14 or 15, in our age) with curly dark brown hair, appeared to be telling the younger one a story.
"...and so, Bilbo packed all his gold up in huge chests, loaded them on his pony, and carried them home! Of course, you know how Lobelia Sackville- Baggins was almost going to buy his house. If he wouldn't have arrived home in the nick of time like he did, she might have..."
He was stopped short by a shriek from the other hobbit. "Look!" the young hobbit stammered, pointing to a spot in the undergrowth, "I saw something get up and jump into the bushes!"
The brown haired one peered around carefully. "Aw, Sam," he said, "There's nothing around here for miles except us. You must be seeing things. Maybe it was a squirrel, or a fox..."
"It wasn't! I saw somebody's foot," Sam whispered. The other hobbit suddenly stiffened.
"You know," he whispered back, "I think I just heard something. Wait here." He picked up a stout stick and slid as quietly as he could into the greenery. Sam waited breathlessly for a few minutes.
All of a sudden, he heard a shout, then a weak cry! He plunged through the bushes towards the noise, and came upon his companion, who was kneeling beside a limp form in the grass.
"Quick, Sam," the hobbit gasped, "get my pack! I've found an elf, and it looks like she's hurt bad." Sam quickly complied.
The dark-haired hobbit took out several napkins, and proceeded to clean and bandage the elf-maid's wound. She moaned, and slowly opened her eyes. Seeing where she was, she struggled to sit up, but the hobbit gently pushed her back down.
"No, just stay where you are," he said, "you've got a nasty cut in your side. I'm trying to patch you up. Does it hurt anywhere else?"
Aeocondren stared at him. "You're a...a... what are you?" she gasped.
"I'm a hobbit," he said in surprise, "You've never seen one before?" The elf shook her head in amazement. "Never."
"Oh," the lad said. "Well, you're in the woods just north of the hobbit land of Bree. Me and my friend Samwise, here," he motioned to Sam, who bobbed his head politely, "were tramping through the forest, and found you lying down and out."
"Yes," Aeocondren groaned, "my mother, my friends, waylaid by orcs..."
Though both hobbits' eyes widened, the older one soothed the fretful elf and said quietly, "Don't think about what happened right now, you can do that later. You have to rest."
"Thank you," Aeocondren breathed, closing her eyes and lying back on the ferns. The dark-haired hobbit was about to go gather wood for a fire when she turned to him once more.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Me?" the young hobbit answered, "I'm Frodo. Frodo Baggins."
Part III
The hobbits stayed with Aeocondren all that evening. At night, Frodo made a fire, and they gathered around it. Sam sat across from the girl, watching her with wide eyes, but after a while he fell asleep, snoring softly wrapped in his cloak.
Frodo curled up in a blanket beside Aeocondren. For an hour, he listened to her tragic story. Then they sat in silence for a little while.
"What are you going to do now?" Frodo asked quietly.
"Before my mother...died," Aeocondren struggled to get out the words, "she gave me something wrapped up in a piece of cloth. She said to not put it on, or give it to anyone except the 'Son of the Tree', whoever that is."
"What did she give you?" Frodo questioned.
Aeocondren pulled the cloth out of her worn garment and carefully unwrapped it. Hobbit and elf gasped as into her hands dropped a beautiful ring! It was made in the fashion of two serpents that had emerald eyes. One of the serpents was devouring and the other, supporting a crown crafted of fine golden leaves. In the middle of the crown was a gem so magnificent that in spite of its minuteness it dazzled the eye. Frodo and Aeocondren gazed at the ring for a moment, and then looked away.
"I do not know what ring this is, or where it came from," Aeocondren whispered, "but it must be of great value. My mother said that it had great power, and if I put it on, that power would begin to take over my mind."
"Now that's an eye-opener, and no mistake," Frodo breathed, looking at the shining jewel. It seemed to change colors before their eyes, being dark purple one minute and light green or white the next.
Aeocondren broke the quiet. "I must take this ring to...to... Rivendell is the closest, I believe."
Frodo tore his gaze away from it and looked at her. "I'll go with you."
"No, you can't," Aeocondren began, when he interrupted.
"Oh, please let me go with you!" he said excitedly, "I've always longed to go on an adventure, and this would be the perfect chance! And, you're not much older than me, I think..."
"I'm almost five hundred years old," Aeocondren told him, amusement in her voice.
"Oh." Frodo looked downcast.
"I know I still look like a child, and in some ways I am," she smiled at him, "but this quest is for me alone. There are still orcs lurking in these woods. Have you noticed how I keep my dagger always at hand? And that I told Sam to keep the fire low? We must be cautious. And Sam. What about him? He is younger than you, and couldn't go on a long journey. You must have a family that would miss you, also."
"My family is dead," Frodo said softly. "Parents drowned when I was a baby. I've been passed around from home to home, but no one really wants me. They all say I'm too strange, always walking about in the woods and reading old books. They tell me to be sensible. Ha! Sensible," he snorted bitterly, "I've got a sight more sense than half of them have. No, nobody would miss me if I turned up lost.
"Only," he glanced at Sam, sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face, "he has a family to go home to. His old Gaffer would chop off my ears if I let anything happen to his son."
"Then," Aeocondren said, "you'd better stay here, for Sam's sake."
After a moment, Frodo sighed. "Yes. Perhaps I should."
Aeocondren smiled at him. "That is a good choice, Frodo Baggins."
The plans were made. In the morning, she would set out for Rivendell. Frodo insisted that her wound was too much for her, and that she needed time to rest and let it heal, but she was firm in her decision. He compromised by giving her most of their food.
Then they lay down. Frodo drifted off almost immediately, but Aeocondren, like all elves, did not sleep. She looked up at the stars above her in a gap through the trees and thought about her plight.
Frodo was a good boy, she decided. She glanced at his pale face in the dark. He deserved better than what he had. Poor lad. Always running off into the woods to be away from relatives who didn't want him, with Sam, his only friend. She would have to do something about that.
That ring. Whose was it? Where did it come from? For that matter, where did it belong? At Rivendell, Elrond would be sure to know. He was wise in the lore of rings. It would be a long, probably dangerous journey, but she was the last of the elves that could carry the ring to him, and if she failed... the ring would be lost. Her mother's last words puzzled her. Who was the Son of the Trees? Remembering her mother hurt. For the second time in her life, slow tears dripped down her cheeks. The last time she had cried had been when her father was killed. Now, she wept.
Part I
In the year 2500 of the third age, the elf-maid Aeocondren was born to Yavanna and Umbil in the Woodland realm of Thranduil. While still a very young child, her parents made the decision to depart over the Sea with Celebrian, who had been severely wounded by the spider's poison. However, when the time came for them to leave, they were detained, and Celebrian traveled on without them. Umbil chose to stay in Mirkwood until his daughter was older, that she might be educated and grow among others of her kind.
For almost five hundred years Aeocondren dwelt in Thranduil's kingdom; then, in 2990, her father was killed in a surprise attack by the orcs while out hunting on the further edges of Mirkwood. Aeocondren's mother, Yavanna, broken-hearted over Umbil's death, made ready to depart for the Undying Lands. Aeocondren was to accompany her, although it was not the young elf's will to depart from Middle-Earth so soon.
Alas! While they traversed from Mirkwood and were almost to the Shire where they would pass through to the Tower and the Harbor, a band of wandering orcs fell upon them. ...
Screams and shrieks rose all around. Many of the elves were taken unawares, intent only on the peaceful thought of the Journey over the Sea they were soon to have undertaken. Those who could whipped out their bows and instantly began firing arrows at the attacking orcs.
Aeocondren was riding towards the back of the column with the last of the escort, when she heard the commotion. Almost at once her sharp ears pricked at the sound of a harsh voice crying out in ugly tones.
"Yrch!" the elf next to her shouted. They galloped towards the head of the line, making ready their bows.
"No room for arrows, knife-work here!" Aeocondren yelled. All of the elves carried some kind of knife or sword. They fought with all their strength, but the orcs were too many. One by one the elves fell under the sheer weight of the number of their foes. Fighting for her life, Aeocondren saw her mother go down under a wave of roaring goblins. She fought her way over to her and struggled to lift Yavanna up. The elf's face was white, and she clutched at a dagger in her side.
"No," she whispered as her daughter tried to help her, "fly! Save yourself, we are doomed..." she pulled something out of her tunic and pressed it into her daughter's hand. "Here, you must take this. Do not put it on, or the power it possesses will begin to take over your mind. Do not let the enemy..." she shuddered, and strained to complete her sentence. "Do not let anyone have it except the Son of the Trees! Go to him; he will know what to do..." her voice died out, and she sunk back into her daughter's arms. Her spirit had departed.
"Aeocondren, go!" the young elf turned and saw one of her friends battling a huge goblin. The warrior yelled at her, "We're doomed! Flee to Rivendell!"
"No!" Aeocondren cried, as an axe whirred through the air and struck the elf a glancing blow in his side. The young elf grunted and fell to his knees. "Leave, Aeocondren, now!"
He was covered by a crowd of orcs. Everywhere the elves were falling. Aeocondren took one last look and fled into the forest back towards the way they had come.
A group of orcs saw her run, and followed her, roaring in their foul language. One of them shot at her with an ill-made arrow, which nevertheless thudded into her side and made her gasp and stumble for a moment.
Suddenly, Aeocondren stopped, almost falling into a deep gully that yawned in front of her. She desperately looked for a way across. The orcs came shrieking out of the trees. She began to run along the edge of the rift, finally finding an old tree that had fallen across it. Running unsteadily over the canyon, she stopped half way as she realized the orcs were following her!
Emptying her last arrows into their ranks, she wavered on the narrow tree; her only weapon left was a dagger and her now useless bow. The orcs crowded along the opposite bank, jeering.
"Give up," they hissed, "you are defeated!"
Aeocondren drew herself up tall. "Never!" she shouted.
"Rac, terhante, mi'i esse Aldaron Orome, ni ello elyena hante mi'i Iluvatar esse!"
At her words, the tree under her feet shook. Then, amid the howls of the enraged goblins, it shattered into a thousand pieces as Aeocondren leapt clear safely to the other side of the crevice. She instantly took cover as the orcs sent a volley of arrows hurtling after her.
After a while, though, her enemies left, cursing. She scrambled shakily out of the bushes, fell, got up again, and set out unsteadily. How far she traveled, she never knew. A fever took hold of her weakened body, and loss of blood finally brought her to a halt.
"Yavanna, where are you?" she murmured dazedly. Death was still incomprehensible to the youthful elf. She blacked out, lying where she had dragged herself under a patch of ferns.
Part II
Two hobbits tramped cheerfully through the woods. The afternoon was sunny and bright, and though they were not too far from home, they were carrying enough provisions as if they were going to live through a seven- year famine. The eldest, a lad of twenty-two (about 14 or 15, in our age) with curly dark brown hair, appeared to be telling the younger one a story.
"...and so, Bilbo packed all his gold up in huge chests, loaded them on his pony, and carried them home! Of course, you know how Lobelia Sackville- Baggins was almost going to buy his house. If he wouldn't have arrived home in the nick of time like he did, she might have..."
He was stopped short by a shriek from the other hobbit. "Look!" the young hobbit stammered, pointing to a spot in the undergrowth, "I saw something get up and jump into the bushes!"
The brown haired one peered around carefully. "Aw, Sam," he said, "There's nothing around here for miles except us. You must be seeing things. Maybe it was a squirrel, or a fox..."
"It wasn't! I saw somebody's foot," Sam whispered. The other hobbit suddenly stiffened.
"You know," he whispered back, "I think I just heard something. Wait here." He picked up a stout stick and slid as quietly as he could into the greenery. Sam waited breathlessly for a few minutes.
All of a sudden, he heard a shout, then a weak cry! He plunged through the bushes towards the noise, and came upon his companion, who was kneeling beside a limp form in the grass.
"Quick, Sam," the hobbit gasped, "get my pack! I've found an elf, and it looks like she's hurt bad." Sam quickly complied.
The dark-haired hobbit took out several napkins, and proceeded to clean and bandage the elf-maid's wound. She moaned, and slowly opened her eyes. Seeing where she was, she struggled to sit up, but the hobbit gently pushed her back down.
"No, just stay where you are," he said, "you've got a nasty cut in your side. I'm trying to patch you up. Does it hurt anywhere else?"
Aeocondren stared at him. "You're a...a... what are you?" she gasped.
"I'm a hobbit," he said in surprise, "You've never seen one before?" The elf shook her head in amazement. "Never."
"Oh," the lad said. "Well, you're in the woods just north of the hobbit land of Bree. Me and my friend Samwise, here," he motioned to Sam, who bobbed his head politely, "were tramping through the forest, and found you lying down and out."
"Yes," Aeocondren groaned, "my mother, my friends, waylaid by orcs..."
Though both hobbits' eyes widened, the older one soothed the fretful elf and said quietly, "Don't think about what happened right now, you can do that later. You have to rest."
"Thank you," Aeocondren breathed, closing her eyes and lying back on the ferns. The dark-haired hobbit was about to go gather wood for a fire when she turned to him once more.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Me?" the young hobbit answered, "I'm Frodo. Frodo Baggins."
Part III
The hobbits stayed with Aeocondren all that evening. At night, Frodo made a fire, and they gathered around it. Sam sat across from the girl, watching her with wide eyes, but after a while he fell asleep, snoring softly wrapped in his cloak.
Frodo curled up in a blanket beside Aeocondren. For an hour, he listened to her tragic story. Then they sat in silence for a little while.
"What are you going to do now?" Frodo asked quietly.
"Before my mother...died," Aeocondren struggled to get out the words, "she gave me something wrapped up in a piece of cloth. She said to not put it on, or give it to anyone except the 'Son of the Tree', whoever that is."
"What did she give you?" Frodo questioned.
Aeocondren pulled the cloth out of her worn garment and carefully unwrapped it. Hobbit and elf gasped as into her hands dropped a beautiful ring! It was made in the fashion of two serpents that had emerald eyes. One of the serpents was devouring and the other, supporting a crown crafted of fine golden leaves. In the middle of the crown was a gem so magnificent that in spite of its minuteness it dazzled the eye. Frodo and Aeocondren gazed at the ring for a moment, and then looked away.
"I do not know what ring this is, or where it came from," Aeocondren whispered, "but it must be of great value. My mother said that it had great power, and if I put it on, that power would begin to take over my mind."
"Now that's an eye-opener, and no mistake," Frodo breathed, looking at the shining jewel. It seemed to change colors before their eyes, being dark purple one minute and light green or white the next.
Aeocondren broke the quiet. "I must take this ring to...to... Rivendell is the closest, I believe."
Frodo tore his gaze away from it and looked at her. "I'll go with you."
"No, you can't," Aeocondren began, when he interrupted.
"Oh, please let me go with you!" he said excitedly, "I've always longed to go on an adventure, and this would be the perfect chance! And, you're not much older than me, I think..."
"I'm almost five hundred years old," Aeocondren told him, amusement in her voice.
"Oh." Frodo looked downcast.
"I know I still look like a child, and in some ways I am," she smiled at him, "but this quest is for me alone. There are still orcs lurking in these woods. Have you noticed how I keep my dagger always at hand? And that I told Sam to keep the fire low? We must be cautious. And Sam. What about him? He is younger than you, and couldn't go on a long journey. You must have a family that would miss you, also."
"My family is dead," Frodo said softly. "Parents drowned when I was a baby. I've been passed around from home to home, but no one really wants me. They all say I'm too strange, always walking about in the woods and reading old books. They tell me to be sensible. Ha! Sensible," he snorted bitterly, "I've got a sight more sense than half of them have. No, nobody would miss me if I turned up lost.
"Only," he glanced at Sam, sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face, "he has a family to go home to. His old Gaffer would chop off my ears if I let anything happen to his son."
"Then," Aeocondren said, "you'd better stay here, for Sam's sake."
After a moment, Frodo sighed. "Yes. Perhaps I should."
Aeocondren smiled at him. "That is a good choice, Frodo Baggins."
The plans were made. In the morning, she would set out for Rivendell. Frodo insisted that her wound was too much for her, and that she needed time to rest and let it heal, but she was firm in her decision. He compromised by giving her most of their food.
Then they lay down. Frodo drifted off almost immediately, but Aeocondren, like all elves, did not sleep. She looked up at the stars above her in a gap through the trees and thought about her plight.
Frodo was a good boy, she decided. She glanced at his pale face in the dark. He deserved better than what he had. Poor lad. Always running off into the woods to be away from relatives who didn't want him, with Sam, his only friend. She would have to do something about that.
That ring. Whose was it? Where did it come from? For that matter, where did it belong? At Rivendell, Elrond would be sure to know. He was wise in the lore of rings. It would be a long, probably dangerous journey, but she was the last of the elves that could carry the ring to him, and if she failed... the ring would be lost. Her mother's last words puzzled her. Who was the Son of the Trees? Remembering her mother hurt. For the second time in her life, slow tears dripped down her cheeks. The last time she had cried had been when her father was killed. Now, she wept.
