A/N - Last Temptation...thanks again for the feedback! And here are two new chapters...oh the joy. (plus, once this story's finished there's a sequel in the works. I'm getting a little carried away here)
Chapter 11 - The Heir of Annundur
'It was no dream!' Tinuial cried shrilly, clutching Carnil's arm with her shaking hands.
'Hush!' He said firmly. 'You might alert your delightful brother.' They now walked together in the hills, and Tinuial was weary, stumbling constantly upon the rough terrain, yet they did not dare stop until they were a safe distance from Thaliondil. At last they halted, and Tinuial calmed slightly.
'I was so afraid,' she murmured, and Carnil held her close to him.
'It is over now,' he said. 'It is gone! Let it trouble you no more.'
'Nay, for it was no dream!' She repeated, 'The touch upon my arm was real. It was hot, so very hot! I was burned, and yet it chilled me to the bone...' She trailed off miserably.
'Does any trace of the hurt linger?' He asked. 'Is there any mark?' Tinuial pushed up her sleeve hurriedly, but as far as she could tell in the pale light, her arm was unchanged.
'Nay, it hurts no longer,' she admitted sullenly. 'Yet I beg you not to doubt me!'
'I do not, yet what would you have me do?' He said, with discernable irritation. 'If it was no nightmare, then it must have been either vision or fantasy. It cannot have truly taken place!'
'A vision, perhaps,' mused Tinuial, paying little heed to him. 'Yet nothing of the sort have I experienced before. It was of some great import, I simply know it.'
'We have other matters of import to consider.' Carnil said with a glimmer of his eyes, 'I regret that I have not until now visited you, yet tracking you was no simple task! He is no fool, Thaliondil; he led you in such a way that your path wound in and coiled in all directions amid the hills.'
'So I guessed.' Tinuial replied, her voice tainted by bitterness. Yet even her anger at her brother now faded, for Carnil had proven his love, and Thaliondil could hardly keep them apart by force.
'It is not so hopeless,' she said at last, the thin light of the crescent moon falling softly upon her face. 'I cannot forsake Thaliondil, for it would destroy him. We shall simply have to persuade him to accept you! It will be difficult, for he is stubborn and proud as was his father before him! Yet he will see in time that you mean me no ill; we need only be patient!' She looked up into Carnil's face, yet he made no sign, and his eyes seemed clouded and dull.
'The time has come,' he whispered. 'I can keep the truth from you no longer. Deeply do I regret not having told you of this ere now.' He paused, as though unwilling to continue.
'Tell me what you have to say!' Tinuial cried, panic surging within her voice. 'However terrible your news is, I would have you tell me!'
'A doom lies upon me, darker than the shadows which now cloak the world.' He said, 'A curse which fell upon me ere even I was born, which has shaped and governed my life and followed me upon my every path.'
'I do not understand!'
'Nay, and yet you would learn to understand, were you to become entangled in my fate.'
'What doom is it that lies upon you?' Tinuial pleaded frantically, 'Who has cursed you, and why?'
'He whom the Eldar name Morlach,' he replied bitterly. Tinuial felt a cold chill rush up her spine, though she knew not why. She remained silent as Carnil continued, his voice weak and sad.
'He is known as the Sorcerer of the Black Flame - in alleigence with the Dark Lord. Yet Morlach serves none but himself, as far as I have ever heard. In the shadowy heart of the forest of Taur-im-Duinath lies his subterranean dwelling, and he has never in recent years been knoen to emerge from his own darkness. Yet all about the land of his abode he sets his unseen snares of bewitchment, to catch the innocent or unwary. He will then draw them into his hidden lair where he devours them, flesh and spirit. None have ever escaped from his grasp, for none had the strength of will to fight his magic, or the wisdom to escape his dark webs of bewilderment. None, but one. Annundur his name was, among the greatest of mortal Men who have walked the Earth, though his tale is known only to a few. Of the House of Beor he was in his beginning, yet when he was come of Age he chose to forsake the lands of his birth, and his own people, desiring only the freedom to explore the untamed lands of Middle-Earth. His kin, and a small number of the folk of Beor rode in his following, for they were of a like mind.
Long they wandered in the wild, making no lasting abode for themselves. They were swift and secret, eluding and ambushing the servents of Morgoth as they saw fit, wary as beasts. Yet as age began to fall upon them, a great number of the folk grew weary of their harsh life. They longed for the comfort of home once more, which they had known only in their childhood. Now many had children of their own, and wished only for a place free from peril, where they would dwell in peace. And so, against the wishes of Annundur they forsook the wilderness and settled at last. Annundur's wife, Tantiliel had died the previous year of a sudden fever, yet she had borne him a son ere her passing. The boy was named Nuromen, fierce and determined as his father, though very like to his mother he was in appearance, with eyes fair and grey, and hair black as night.
The people of Annundur at last settled in the land of Arvernien in the South, building homes amid the birches of Nimbrethil, though Annundur himself would ride far afield, and increasingly often his son would ride alongside him, for he grew strong and dauntless. Yet upon a time when Annundur chanced to journey alone, he strayed into the forests of Taur-im-Duinath, having no notion of his peril, and was ensnared by the dark enchantment which lay in wait amid the twisted trees. It came to pass that he was taken before Morlach. Yet terror did not fall upon Annundur at the hideous sight of his face, and in pride and folly he challenged Morlach to a duel. Naught would he ever tell of his battle with the Dark Scorcerer, save that he himself escaped with his life, at last sorely wounding his enemy, and believing him dead. Yet it was not so. For it has since been told that Morlach is of the Maiar, and indeed one of the mightiest of his order. The weapons of mortals cannot rend the spirits of the Ainur from this world, though if the hand that wields them is mighty enough, then it may chance that the great spirit shall be for a time diminished. And so it was. The servants of Morlach allowed Annundur to leave Taur-im-Duinath unhindered, and fled when he came near them. For within his eyes they percieved a fire which burned like the glare of the sun upon Winter's ice. Never had any radiance of the heavens brightened that dark place, and seeing it they were afraid, and did not dare assail him.
'When Annundur returned to the dwelling place of his people, he seemed a mere wraith of his former self. He was grey and bowed - aged with care and wounded to the death. It was a wonder that he lived, for his journey home had been long and perilous, and the wounds Morlach had given him did not heal, but grew steadily worse as his strength slowly failed. Upon the very night of his return to Nimbrethil, he died. Yet with his last strength he recounted his dark tale, looking upon the face of his son for the final time. Nuromen was grieved, and gladly would he have sought to avenge the death of Annundur, yet believing Morlach to be slain he remained in Arvernien, dwelling in quiet peace with his kin, and journeying never far afield. The Elves knew not of their abiding in this place, and had they discovered them sooner they may have warned Nuromen of his peril. At last the sorrow of Nuromen at his father's passing was driven from his mind, for some years after his coming of Age, his love was gven to a maiden named Lorawen. She was fair, so the tales say, and was unlike in appearance to any other. Her hair was bright and golden as the glory of dawn, and her eyes were green as sparkling emerald. She was not strong, but slender and fair as the stems of birches, and when she danced her feet were light as falling leaves upon the soft ground. Nuromen wedded Lorawen, and the following year she bore him a daughter more beautiful than Spring itself, golden-haired as her mother and fair as an Elf-child. The girl was named Alphiel.
'Yet her beauty was but a passing thing, and when Alphiel was but three years of age she was slain, along with many others. For though the thralls of Morlach had not lain hands upon Annundur as he made his homeward journey, some had pursued him, and espied the dwelling place of his kin. They had given word to their dark master, telling him of Nimbrethil, and all they could discover of the folk who dwelt there. They reported also that Annundur had met his death, yet his son lived still. As Morlach grew once more in strength his wrath seethed within him, for he knew that though he weilded still a deadly terror, he would never fully regain his powers, such as they had been of Old. And he vowed then to destroy the son of Annundur, all his kin that yet lived, and all the folk of Nimbrethil. Therefore, he gathered himself an army, great and terrible, of wolves, demons and miserable thralls, and though he went there not himself, he bent all his thought towards the abode of Nuromen.
And so the people of Annundur were caught at unawares, for the force of the army of Morlach fell upon them at dusk, bringing darkness and terror, burning the homesteads and stables, and killing both man and beast who dared to cross their path. All were slain, save a few who fled and escaped persuit. Nuromen alone of those who remained to fight was neither slain or harmed, yet he was taken. It is guessed that he was brought to Taur-im-Duinath, and nevermore would he walk in the woods of Nimbrethil. Yet his wife, Lorawen, weeping bitterly at the murder of her daughter, and the loss of her husband, escaped and fled with the last remnant of the folk of Annundur. The small company took to the wild for a time, and leaving the birchwoods they journeyed West, to the Cape of Balar. There they built dwellings of wood upon the shore, in the land where the earth and the ocean meet. Each window they made in their fair houses faced Westward, so enamoured did they become of the sight of the endless Sea, stretching into oblivion. Lorawen would sit upon the shore and dream of those who had departed, making songs of lamentation as fair as the music of the grey water. Gladly would she have cast herself into the shimmering depths of the Sea, to rest beneath the moaning waves, though her beauty and loveliness was greater than any pearl ever to adorn the ocean floor. Yet she could not, for once again she was with child, and was now almost due to give birth.
'The last child of Lorawen was born only weeks after her arrival in Balar. The child was a boy, and he and Lorawen were tended by an elderly nurse, Nominwen, who was a lady of great strength and kindness, though she was unmarried and had no children of her own. Lorawen died shortly after giving birth, ere even she named her son.'
Tinuial listened to this tale with growing sorrow, and dark silence now fell upon them. The rain had begun to fall, and flowed from the sky like a soft river of grief. Tinuial shivered, and as Carnil said no more she spoke hesitantly into the shadow.
'This is a strange, sad tale,' she murmured softly. 'Yet I think you have more to say. For you have not explained what the plight of this folk has to do with you, though I already guess.'
'I am the son of Nuromen, and the bane of Lorawen,' he said faintly, feeling glad that the rain hid his tears. 'And I am the only living heir of Annundur.' Tinuial knew not how to reply, and she wrapped her arms about him and buried her face in his shoulder. At last she looked up at him, and saw his green eyes glitter in the moonlight.
'Do not fear,' she said shakily, 'I shall not forsake you on account of this tale!'
'And yet you shall know no safety while you are with me!' He cried miserably, 'If aught were to harm you, then never could I forgive myself!'
'Yet why should anything happen?' She asked in surprise, 'For surely Morlach is not aware that you walk upon earth!' Carnil sighed with grief, and pushed his black hair from his eyes with a hand that shook visibly.
'For long years he was unaware of me, I believe. Yet within my heart I knew always that he would find me. When I grew old enough to perceive the peril, I left the fair place of my birth, knowing that I was only a danger to those whom I loved. Never again have I looked upon my kin, and my childhood friends. I did not even bid farewell to Nominwen, who cared for me through my early years, for she would have done all in her power to prevent me from departing. May she forgive me! She it was who named me. For on the night of my birth, and my mothers death, the sky was clear and fair, and the stars shone out coldly like points of ice against the void. I was named after the red star of Varda. Yet Nominwen hoped that I would be free of danger and darkness, and it cannot be so. I can linger in no place long. The presence of Morlach darkens my dreams. He has sent his hunters after me before now, though always I have managed to elude them. As we draw closer to his realm I feel his power growing. I cannot remain here, and neither can you! I fear that he has seen you.' He looked gravely at Tinuial, and she gasped.
'My dream!' She cried. 'You believe that it was him?'
'I do not know.' He replied quietly.
The rain grew heavier, and fell in sheets of soft grey, turned all to shimmering glass by the light of unveiled moon. Lightning flickered upon the horizon, and the rumble of distant thunder rolled on ominously. The storm approached.
