This is the Completed 2010 Version of Menelwen. (Yes, I've decided to Update the version later once I am done with it.)
What is the difference between the 2010 and 2016 version?
As a writer, I wanted to grow my writing styles, but I wanted other people to enjoy the story I have completed. Simply, the 2010 version is the RAW version that has been completed last 2015 while the 2016 version is the version that I am rewriting (which means it will take a while to finish). So read the 2010 version if you want the finished story while wait for the 2016 version to see the differences and my updated writing styles. This is simply a medium for my to put in my stories.
I'd like to thank for supporting my eccentrics.
For the people who enjoy reading reviews, now all the review comments for the chapters make sense. AGAIN.
(Don't lie! I know you read the review first before reading the story! I do that too!)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien is truly a genius. If you do not recognize some characters, they are most likely mine.
Author Notes: There are a few things that I want to make clear before I start the story. Some scenes in this story come from a combination of scenes from the movie, the original story and my own imagination. (Please remember this for there are things and events used specifically for this story!). So if anything feels new to you, please do not be alarmed. Also please make note that there is romance, but I have not figured out who I should pair her up with, so please comment and review to give me an idea of who the main character to be paired up with. If no one answers, the she will fall in love with either an elf or a character of my own making. I am sorry for any grammatical errors. I am really trying to not make these mistakes. (Flamers, do not kill my story.)
UPDATE: I fixed my grammatical errors. I hope they make sense now.
Prologue
Everything is part of history.
Every year, month, day, hour and even seconds…
They are all part of the history that is created by all beings. It is important for us to study and to write about history. To remember what has passed and to create a better future—untainted by the mistakes that brought things to their fall.
However,
Those who tell or write about history see only one point of view. So everything that follows it becomes biased.
Many know of a famous red book. It tells the tale of Middle Earth. Of beings like Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Wizards. A story of the darkness that covered over the land and how an unlikely hero vanquished the evil and brought peace back to all of Middle Earth. Many also know about the company—the Fellowship. Nine walkers.
However, that information is incomplete.
I am tired of telling such things. I have sinned so much. To cover up the truth…to destroy all facts about it. It is not fair to those who have been there on that journey. It is not fair to those that have fought with, cared for and loved her. That story had to be erased from all of time. From all of history.
I do not wish to sin anymore. So I will break my vow and tell you about her story. It all began from the time before she was born.
The beginning at the end.
…
Second Age - 3434
…
A small company composed of men and elves sat down under the tall, shade-bearing trees that surrounded the base of the mountain. The night was rolling in and all were tired. Turin walked up towards a higher area of the mountain base to scan the surroundings. He let out a breath in relief and sat down when his elf eyes convinced him that there was no danger beyond the dark forest. The elf felt a cool breeze touch his skin and his long brown hair swayed slightly with the wind. Down below from where he sat, a bright campfire gave light. Around it, many of the men conversed with the elves. All were merry despite the situation.
"You're by yourself again Turin," said a man who sat down beside the tired elf, "Why does the great elven warrior before me, isolate himself from the world? You are gloomy. Are not all elves supposed to be cheery all the time?"
A small smile appeared on Turin's face, "I hate to disappoint you Duman, but I am not that type of Elf. I like to find peace in loneliness. Far away from the forests." His smile then faded, "Really now, how can I be cheery when war is upon us? Sauron's power grows ever so swiftly."
There was silence. But then, Duman burst out laughing and the elf looked at his friend in concern. "Ah, Turin, my good friend, you worry too much. We will destroy that wretched Sauron!" said Duman as he slapped his friend on the back, "The Alliance of Men and Elves were created for that very reason! Have faith and hope. We will restore balance to Middle Earth!"
"I think not," Turin said glumly, "This company is merely a backup. No action can be done without an order from my Lord Elrond. It is absolutely pathetic."
Duman laughed loudly and could not stop his laughter for quite some time. "Because of the Alliance, I have gained the hand of friendship from a great elven warrior," said the man between laughs, "But, not just a normal elf, but—but a gloomy, battle-hungry one!" The elf playfully tried to push the amused of the ledge to make him stop, but this further made the man laugh. "Ah, Turin, all of them lied greatly when they told me that you have no humor!"
The elf tried to keep the man quiet. "Will you be silent? I bet Elrond could hear you!" Turin hissed, "Have you no shame?"
Duman slowly quieted down, still chuckling here and there. All became silent and the two enjoyed each other's company for awhile. The moon appeared in the night sky. Its light showed many things in the dark. Turin squinted his eyes to see the darkness beyond the trees.
"What is wrong?" Duman asked him after the elf's face became serious. Turin quickly readied his bow that was beside him.
"Wake the others," The Elven General ordered, "There is a great evil coming towards us." With that said, Duman swiftly took off and ran down to awake the company.
As if in an instant, a large group of orcs and goblins attacked the mountain base. One by one Turin shot the enemies with great accuracy. Duman, with the other men and elves stood their ground and fought their enemies with ease. Within minutes, the evil force was no more.
The men started to cheer.
Turin did not react. Something was still out there. It felt so close—the darkness that enveloped area was so very close.
Duman looked up to the mountain and saw the great elf looking out in the distance. He called out to his friend—smiling widely and frantically waving his hands to catch his attention. The moon's light touched the elf's face. It was worried and distressed. The elf then looked down and caught eyes with Duman.
"Turin!" Duman grinned, "Turin!"
"Noro!" cried an Elf, "Hîr vell! Noro!"
"Run?" Turin mumbled questioningly at the words, "Run from what?" He turned around, but a large dark figure grabbed a hold of his neck. Turin's bow fell and the elf struggled to free the grip that held him. The dark figure laughed loudly and smiled as he threw Turin down to the base of the mountain.
"Hîr vell!" the elves exclaimed, "Hîr vell!" (My Lord [Turin]!)
"Dago den! Dago den!" (Kill it!) An elf commanded.
Arrows flew towards the figure, but none touched it. Those with swords ran and fought with it directly, but were swiftly killed by a blow of the figure's sword. Duman rushed to Turin, who breathed heavily. Blood ran like a river.
"Turin! Do not die!" The man pleaded, "You cannot die! Not yet!" he grabbed hold of his friend's hand, "Please Turin!"
The elf smiled, but it faded when he saw the dark figure descend from the mountain. Among the dead lay many of the men and elves—father, sons, friends. "Duman, you—you must run," Turin begged, "It—he—you cannot fight him! Leave me!"
The dark figure finally came to the base. All those who fought were slain. There was rage in the man's eyes as he raised his sword and charged at the figure. Duman hacked and slashed the enemy at full force, but the figure laughed as he easily defended itself. With one strike of the figure's sword, the man knelt before the enemy—the blood loss greater than the fallen Turin. Duman tried once more to attack, but in one swift movement, the man's head rolled off—decapitated.
"Duman!" Turin cried out. He tried to stand. He tried to fight once more, but his injuries prevented him to do so. The black figure turned to the squirming elf and picked him up by the neck.
"Le vaethor vele, Turin. Le vaethor veleg" (You are a mighty warrior, Turin. You are a great skilful bowman.) The dark figure said to him, "Auth tôl. Go-vaethatham ned auth?" (War comes. Will you join me?)
"Avon gared iest lîn"(I refuse to do your wish) the general hissed, "I do not fight for the Dark Lord!"
Sauron laughed at the angered elf. "I see potential in you. You will join me. You are needed Turin." Sauron chanted in an ancient tongue—an unknown magic to even the elves. Turin could feel it. Darkness enveloping him—his body, his mind, his heart. There was a piercing cry in the elf's head—echoing loudy, strongly, deadly.
You are useless.
You were unable to save your army.
You did not save him.
You did not save Duman.
You cannot save anyone.
"You will be mine." Sauron whispered.
Just then, a bright light shattered the darkness that surrounded them. An arrow from above flew towards the Dark lord. Sauron released this hold on Turin. The elven warrior lay on the cold blood soaked ground. He stared at the bright light that stood at the peak of the mountain. Turin squinted to see the figure beyond the glow, but fatigue overcame him.
Sleep, Turin, that evil will not bother you. A woman's voice sang out to him. Sleep and be in light.
…
Second Age - 3441
…
"I amar prestar aen…Han mathon ne nen…Han mathon ne chae…A han noston ned gwilith…" (The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the Earth. I smell it in the air.) Galadriel turned and looked at the night sky, "One by one, the free lands of Middle-Earth will fall into the power of the Ring. But there are some who will resist this. The last alliance of Men and Elves will march against the armies of Mordor, and on the slopes of Mount Doom, they will fight for the freedom of Middle-Earth."
…
A vast army of Men and Elves stood on one side of the battlefield. On the other side, stood the army of Orcs controlled by the Dark Lord.
"If we die, we die with honor!" shouted a General.
"Yrch telir!" (Orcs are coming!) cried an Elf, "Gurth an yrch!" (Death to the Orcs!)
Elrond stood anticipating the movements of the enemies. "Garo chûr an ndagor!" (Get ready for battle) he shouted to the archers. He looked to his left and saw the serious face of an elven warrior. "Turin ce mae?" (Turin, are you well?) Elrond asked, "Ni trastannen achen" (I am worried for you).
Turin turned to his friend, "I am fine," he answered, "I will not fall so easily like before."
Elrond smiled and placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, "I know."
Turin smiled, "Thank you. I would not be alive if you had not saved me when you did." He looked forward and stared at the Orc army, "The dark curse he placed upon me still haunts me. Even at this very moment. It burns in my heart—this madness. But I will fight it." He turned to Elrond, "But if I cannot—if I fail and attack the alliance…" Elrond grew sad, "Elrond…Dago nin. Nin heniach? Buiach?"(Elrond…Kill me. Do you understand me? Do you promise?)
"Iston Turin."(I know Turin.) Elrond answered and patted Turin's shoulder, "Iston."
Turin smiled, "Gen hannon o gûr nîn. Ce vellon nîn an-uir." (I thank you with my heart. Forever you are my friend.)
In a moment of silence, a loud, echoing horn blew.
All eyes turned as they saw the orcs invade the battlefield. They rushed across the field that separated the two armies.
Turin clutched his left breast. Pain rode up in his heart. "He is here." he muttered.
"Tangado haid!" (Hold positions!) Elrond commanded, "Leithio i philinn!" (Fire arrows!) The elves raised their bows and released the arrows at the oncoming Orcs. It knocked down the first line of Orcs. As the wave of the Orc infantry reached the first line of the Elven troops. The Elves swung their swords up and sliced the Orcs one after the other down the line.
Turin thrust his sword towards one and then continued to slash another with all his strength. Raged burned within him. The memories of the past screamed in his mind.
Turin.
Kill Them.
Destroy them.
Iston vellas lîn ne ndagor. (I know your strength in battle)
Gen huion maethad amen. (I asked you to fight for us)
Dago i chyth. (Kill the enemies)
Dago di. (Kill them)
TURIN!
"Dîn" (Be silent) Turin shouted as he slashed another Orc, "Lacho calad! Drego morn! Pilin vîn gwathrathar Anor. Crist vîn ristathar i thaind cyth vîn. Cyth vîn dregathar sui fuin drega Anor!" (Burn, light! flee, darkness! Our arrows will blot out the sun. Our swords will cleave our foes' shields. Our foes shall flee like darkness from the sun!)
You are a fool Turin.
You will not win.
The men cheered in triumph.
Turin looked around—the Orcs have been slain. However, victory was celebrated too early. All cries died down as Sauron strode onto the battlefield. He towered over both the Elves and Men. A sudden pain wrapped Turin's entire body and he fell to his knees.
The Dark Lord wielded a mace. With one swing, a group of warriors were sent flying across the field. He repeated the assault. The leader of Men raised his sword to strike Sauron, but the Dark Lord parried the blow and smashed the man against rock—crushing him to death.
Turin looked at his shaking hands. It was turning black like the night sky. The madness grew within him as a dark voice pounded in his mind. A shadow loomed—an Orc stood over him, ready to slice Turin into pieces. Before the hit landed, a bright light shined and a dozen arrows hit the Orc and it fell. Turin frantically looked for the light. His eyes came to a high plane in the far distance. The light burned bright.
Do not lose hope Turin! It said, go back into the light—do not let the dark take you!
"I am scared." He breathed out, "I am scared."
Elrond ran towards to where Isildur was, but he stopped mid-way. He looked around and the elf lord spotted the pained Turin. He rushed towards him. The warrior locked eyes with him and shook his head.
"Baw…" (Don't)Turin cringed in pain, "Baw tolo enni" (Don't come to me)
"Turin!" Elrond called to him. Turin smiled weakly, "Dago nin Elrond. Before it is too late."
Elrond shook his head, "No, hold on! You are strong! You can fight it!" From where Elrond stood, he could clearly see that Turin's skin was turning dark. It slowly crept up to his face. It pained Elrond to see him like this. The Elf Lord looked at his sword as he readied it.
Suddenly, someone—Isildur let out a battle cry. The man attacked Sauron's hand with the shard of a sword—slicing the finger that bears the One Ring. Morgoth's servant let out a cry as the Ring was separated from him. Turin rivalled that cry and fell to the ground. The Dark Lord then imploded. It sent a shock wave throughout the battlefield, knocking the warring troops off their feet. The Dark Lord's armour fell to the ground. His body vaporized.
The elf lord ran toward the unconscious Turin and held him in his arms. The warrior's breathing normalized. His skin was returning to its' original color. Elrond gave a sigh of relief.
…
Third Age – 2795
…
"Turin, Am mas ledhich?" (Turin, where are you going?) demanded Elrond, "Turin!"
The warrior elf hastened his pace, "I must leave Rivendell! I cannot stay here any longer!" Turin raged, "Do not follow me!" Elrond placed himself between the door and Turin. "Ledho uin râd Elrond!"(Move out of the way Elrond!)
"Avon gared," (I will not) Elrond stared at the elf whose eyes showed anger towards the obstacle, "What is the matter Turin? Is there danger that you cannot speak of? Why can you not tell me? I am merely concerned about you!"
"Step aside my friend," said Turin coldly and he swiftly took out his sword, "or I will kill you. Bloodshed in this household seems fitting at this moment." He smiled cruelly and thought of the joy he could have if he could spill blood on Rivendell.
"Turin…" Elrond started.
The Elf barked, "Move." And the Lord stepped aside.
Turin walked past the elf and went away.
"Ce pen-ind Turin?" (Are you insane Turin?) Elrond said distressed, "What madness has inflicted you?"
The cool night irritated the crazed elf as he ran out of Rivendell. He could not understand why such rage burned within his soul. He wanted to kill as if there is war. He wanted to destroy every dream that came into the minds of those in Middle Earth. But at the same time, he did not want to.
"What is wrong with me? It has been three hundred thirty-five years since these feelings entered in my heart. Is the madness truly returning to me again? I cannot let that happen." He turned and saw the beauty of Rivendell. "Elrond, Goheno nin. (Forgive me) For what I have done. I cannot stay here." He dropped his sword to the ground, turned and started walking.
The elf walked around lost for days carrying nothing but himself. He isolated himself from society. From any type of food source. Slowly, but surely he was killing himself. He lay under the shade of a large tree waiting for his death. However, the death of an immortal is quiet hard to accomplish. His body grew thin and could hardly move. His eyes started to fall. He wished for death. Both his own and for others. Tears fell from his eyes and his vision slowly started to go black. A bright light filled this vision before finally being engulfed in darkness.
…
When Turin opened his eyes, it was morning. The sun light peeped in from the roof made of hay. He pondered why the halls of Mandos had such material when suddenly the door opened and bright light entered the room. A young woman with long autumn hair in peasant clothes appeared in the room. She grinned madly, "You're awake!" and ran toward him. The woman placed one hand on his forehead and her other hand on her head. She smiled, "This is good, your fever is gone now!" She giggled at the awe-struck elf. "You look so much better now!" She moved to the table near the door and started to fix up something, "You're really lucky that I found you when I did. You were at the brink of death and suffered from really high fever!"
The elf stared at her. Trying to comprehend what had happened. The young woman continued to babble on, but he ignored it. This—everything—It confused him greatly.
"Why?" he said out loud.
She stopped what she was doing and turned to him. "What?" she looked just as confused as him.
"Why did you save me?" he asked her softly and then looked at her. His eyes were furious and his voice got louder, "Why did you save me? You should not have saved me! I—I am dangerous to you—to everything around me!"
His caretaker looked at him and smiled. Turin looked away from her and his voice lowered, "Why did you save me?" His hands trembled. Why, he thought, why am I so weak? I am battle hungry because I feel so powerful when I defeat my adversary. But it is just an excuse. None of this would have happened if I was not so weak. So weak…SO weak…SO WEAK!
Then, the young lass touched the warrior's trembling hands and made them calm. Turin looked at her and saw a gentle smile on her face. With one hand, she wiped away the tears that unknowingly fell from Turin's eyes. "I saved you because it was the right thing to do." She answered, "I saved you because I am a healer and as a healer I cannot leave someone injured unattended to. I do not know why you were in that forest and why you were in such a state. I sure hope you would tell me sooner or later, but what I do know is that our meeting was not by chance. Everything happens for a purpose and I am so very happy that you are well. So please do not cry anymore because I promise you, you are safe here."
Oddly, what she said calmed him and gave him much peace. Her voice seemed so familiar and yet so new. Her sweet smile was etched in Turin's mind forever.
…
"So, what is your name Lord Elf?" she asked him.
"Turin." The elf answered.
"Tuiren? Is that right?" the lass laughed, "That is such a strange name! Why are all elf names so strange?"
"My name is not strange!"
"Yes they are! They are so complicated that I can't say it! Why can you not have simple names like Eomer or Fangar?"
"Well then milady, what is your name?"
"Anura!" she smiled widely.
"Anura? Ha! See? Now that is an odd name." stated the elf. The Lass crossed her arms and pouted. Turin corrected himself, "Forgive me. It is a beautiful name."
She immediately grinned, "Of course it is! And don't you forget it! Now, it is time we discuss payment Mister Elfy."
"Payment?" Turin questioned her.
Anura sighed, "Yes, I am a healer. I do not just do things without a price. It was quite a hassle to get herbs for your fever."
"I have no money with me." Turin said plainly.
"I know that already. I've gone through your clothes."
Turin's jaw dropped, "What?" Anura simply smiled. "All right then, what is it that you want as payment?"
The girl smiled mischievously.
"One year," she replied, "One year of service to me. You would help me gather herbs and help clean around the house. Can you handle that?"
Turin sighed in relief, "Yes. To an elf, one year is like a blink in the eye."
"Excellent!"
…
Third Age – 2800
…
Turin paced around the front of the house. A loud piercing cry echoed and then silence. He walked around some more and fixed the cloth that hid his elven ears. He toyed with his golden ring in nervousness. His hair was much shorter now and he proudly wore peasant clothing of men than his old noble elven made clothes. Finally, the door opened and the ladies stepped outside and greeted the handsome Turin happily. They motioned him to go inside as they left the vicinity of the healer's home.
On the bed, in the master bedroom, sat Anura smiling angelically as she held within her arms a small baby girl. "Turin," she said as he came into the room. He sat on the bed beside her and looked at the baby—his child.
"She looks just like you," Turin commented. Anura smiled and touched Turin's hand—a gold ring gleamed in the light. She passed the baby to Turin. He could feel the small heart beat that the child gave out. He smiled tenderly as the baby slept in his arms.
"What shall we name her?" his wife asked.
"Gen eston Menelwen" (I name her Menelwen), he answered, "Celeste…"
My Beloved Menelwen. My Celeste.
Author Notes (5/16/2010): I would just like to make note that in this story, Turin is a character that was made specifically for this story. He, in no way, is or has resemblance to Turin Turambar, son of Huirin. It just so happens that his name is the same as this Great Person. End of discussion.