New Information

As the third hour droned on, Elboron could not believe he had ever been excited at the prospect of being involved in royal councils and suppressed a yawn. They were in the middle of a serious war yet it was still incredibly boring, though the two did not seem to marry up. He had listened to tales of the famous Council of Elrond in Imladris and wondered if it too had been as brain numbingly boring. He observed Eldarion across the table, slumped in his chair, looking as engaged as Elboron felt, though less adept at hiding it than he was.

This council was again larger than any previous one and Elboron could honestly say he knew less than twenty percent of the people here, unable to recall the streams of the names of men and dwarves from Dale and Erebor. Catching up these strangers had been the primary focus of the earliest portions, and Eldarion and himself had contributed a little here and there, but it was Elessar and his uncle Éomer that led the council primarily on behalf of the Men of the South.

The room was light and airy, despite being in the middle of an immense cavern. Near a hundred people sat on delicate chairs around an elaborate table, a ramshackle assemblage of Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits (the latter with chairs piled high with cushions) and the room was beginning to feel stuffy and warm.

He perked up a little at the reports which were new to him, such as Shadow Orcs being sighted along the Mirkwood borders, and the attacks on Dale which were still going fiercely.

"Prince Bain is now in Mirkwood," King Bard of Dale was relating to the Council, "but still my people are suffering."

"All kingdoms are," said his uncle. "Rohan is burning, as is Gondor. But our priority must be to keep our heirs safe. If they are taken, all is lost."

Eyes flicked to him once again, and Elboron looked down, focusing his attention on some intricately carved inlaid leaves on the table.

"What could they possibly want with my son, he is but eight years old!" the king was protesting. He sat with his arms folded and foot tapping. "Why must my people die while their royals stay holed up in Mirkwood?"

"If all four of the royal heirs are brought together and captured it spells doom for us all from what you have said," said Thranduil. "Would keeping them apart not be safer?"

"But together they can explore this bond they have," said Elboron's father. "They can gain much by studying it together."

"But what?" Bard asked, frowning. "I don't want my son learning Elvish magic."

"They were given this link for a reason," said Elessar, his fingers pressed together in thought. "I believed they were meant to use it for some greater purpose."

"And what if they were given it to be used by the Enemy?" asked Legolas. "This ability may be what they want to exploit, not what will defeat them."

"He was surprised through," Eldarion said, eyes drifting. "Celegorm. When we used magic, he was surprised. He wasn't expecting it, nor did he understand. We must have this ability by the will of the Valar."

"We cannot make any assumptions," Gimli said. "It all sounds suspicious to me. I don't like all this talk of sorcery and mind control."

It's not mind control though, thought Elboron. It's more like a secret advantage we have over the Enemy. They cannot know we have it. The prophecy makes no mention of it.

Eldarion's eyes turned to him. "That's a good point," he murmured. "But there's many things it does not mention, our identities for one."

The people around the table stared at him for a moment in blank silence, before Elessar smiled grimly. "They've been doing this a lot lately," he said apologetically. He looked towards Elboron who was now sitting rigidly in his chair at so many people staring at him. "What did you say?"

Elboron gulped, avoiding the eyes of everyone by staring at his hands and repeated his comments in a voice which only slightly shook. He was met with various murmurs of agreement and then Eldarion's comment was repeated and discussed. The room split into various smaller conversations and as attention moved away from him, Elboron's father, seated on his right, leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"If you have something to say, Elboron, do not say it privately. All voices are welcome here."

Elboron nodded stiffly, but could not agree. He had never felt so inadequate in his whole life. What was he doing here at a council of the greatest leaders and minds of Middle-Earth? He was but eighteen and had been Captain of the White Tower less than a year, a position he had only obtained thanks to birth right rather than true merit. Thranduil's words from the previous evening came back to him. You ran, did you not?

He was a coward.

"I don't think you're a coward."

Conversation in the immediate vicinity stopped dead and Neniel, who had been the one to speak clapped her hands over her mouth and looked at Elboron with repentant eyes from her position across the table.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud!"

Elboron groaned and covered his face with his hands, wishing he cold slump further into his chair and out of sight onto the floor. It he hadn't been mortified before, he certainly was now.

His mother and father looked like they wished to say something, but they were prevented by Elessar calling the whole table to order once more. Elboron fixed his attention on the king, ignoring the burning sensation on his cheeks.

Neniel was trying to apologise, he knew, and he could tell she was feeling guilty for embarrassing him.

"Do not worry, I'm used to being humiliated at social gatherings," he said to her, smiling as he did so, in case she missed the message. Her expression was saddened however. She wanted to know why he thought so little of himself. She wanted to comfort him, she wanted to set him at ease. He appreciated her concern, but he did not see what help she could be. He was fond of her, and felt happy in her presence, but the sheer delirium that Eldarion experienced when with her was beyond him.

"Now that we are all familiar with the situation, I would like to invite our hosts to speak," Elessar was saying. "We all met here in Mirkwood to access the knowledge of the First Age from those who remember it. Tell us, have you anything to add?"

At a nod from Thranduil a tall elf dressed in robes of white stood. He was tall and his face as youthful and fair as other elves, yet there was a certain gravity in his expression which told Elbron this elf was far more ancient than any he had ever met. Brúnor was his name, or so he seemed to know through Neniel.

"Since the departure of Lady Galadriel from these shores, I have the privilege of being the most ancient of the race of the Eldar in Middle Earth," he began, grey eyes sweeping the room. "Not only do I have memory of the First Age, but I knew the sons of Fëanor personally. I lived for a time in Nargothrond, an Elven kingdom in Beleriand. Celegorm and Curufin lived there until banished by King Finrod after their treatment of Lúthien. After the wars and destruction that followed, I went with what was left of my kin into Middle Earth. There were many there who had suffered under their deeds."

"What were they like?" asked King Bard.

"They were tall and strong, excellent warriors and tacticians," the elf said, eyes lost in memory. "But they were quick to anger, and dangerous to cross. They would not allow anyone to stand in their way. Even before they committed their first evils they were not easily trusted."

"Not changed much then?" said Gimli.

"What do you know of this prophecy?" Elessar asked, ignoring Gimli. "Do you think it real?"

"Maglor was well known for his foresight," Brúnor said. "If he said those words, then I believe them. They should not be treated lightly.

Elboron's heart sank. For a long time now he had hoped fervently that the prophecy had just been some sort of elaborate joke. It was then that he noticed a new presence in the back of his mind, a slight prodding, like a child pulling at a sleeve. He pushed aside the feeling for the moment.

"So they really are after the Silmarils," said Imrahil. "That is ill news indeed."

"They cannot think they can really reach them," said Thranduil. "Such a task would be impossible. It would rip apart all of Middle Earth."

"They know," said Eldarion. "Celegorm said as much to me. He does not care what should become of this world. He wants to complete the Oath he took above all else."

"So he's mad as well then?" said a dwarf whose name Elboron could not remember. "Lovely."

"I have seen the orcs that he is leading," continued Brúnor. "They greatly resemble the Orcs of Morgoth. Strong, tall, wise, more closely related to Elves than any of the current species. They are far more formidable than any ever faced since."

"Tell us something we don't know," Éomer said darkly.

"If these Orcs are not too far removed from Elves, is it possible to … change them back?" Pippin asked.

"Such a thing would not be possible, even if they were not Shadowed," said the elf. "The mutilations performed on them by Morgoth ruined them beyond repair. Because of this, they are driven by fierce anger, making them doubly dangerous."

"It certainly appears that the Shadow Orcs are more powerful than any that came before them. Not only are they possessed of the power of the ancient Orcs, they also have the ability to manipulate shadows," said another elf. "Though such a thing has no precedent in the history of Middle-Earth, the limitations of travelling through magic is well known to those of us who remember a time when it was more commonplace. They cannot appear within the boundaries of any city nor any dwelling. They can travel where they wish if they so visualise it but cannot track through this method. They can however appear outside the boundaries of settlements and attack them in this manner. Their ability to move through shadow means that every realm is at risk, Elf, Man, Dwarf, Hobbit … none of us are safe."

Whispers travelled around the room, and for a moment, Elboron felt the presence in his mind grow stronger, and a spike of fear flare up.

"We believe that perhaps killing Celegorm and Curufin may be the way to end the dominance of the Shadow," said Thranduil. "They are the ones who have summoned them from Beyond. Yet we do not know how this may be accomplished. They themselves are Shadowed and are neither alive nor dead."

"The same was said of the Nazgûl, and they were defeated," said Elboron's father. He turned to his wife and smiled fondly. "The Witch-King was killed by a mortal woman with a blow from a sword."

"I helped as well you know!" Merry piped up. "But isn't Faramir right? Surely the same action may banish these Shadow Orcs the same way the Witch-King was killed?"

"The Nazgûl were banished back to the Shadow," said Elessar. "Not killed. With skill, they too could be summoned once again, in the same way Celegorm and Curufin have risen again and brought Orcs with them. When these Orcs are killed by us, they are simply reformed from the Shadow."

"Then killing them may end the cycle," said Elboron's mother. As she spoke, Elboron noticed she rubbed her arm, subconsciously reliving the wounds she had received in that battle. "With no one to summon the Orcs, they may be defeated."

"And what's to stop the sons of Fëanor rising yet again?" Legolas said. "How can we banish them utterly?"

"The presence of Sauron in this world is, I believe, what kept them in the Shadows so long," said Brúnor. "They could not compete against such evil. Now that he is gone, they may simply keep returning. We must find a way to destroy them utterly, with no hope for them to reform."

"But how?" his mother asked desperately, glancing at him. "How can we destroy them? Have you discovered nothing which will help us?"

"I did not say that, my Lady," Brúnor said, bowing to her. "Though I do not have information to help defeat the Orcs or the Fëanorions, there is something else I may do. When I lived in Nargothrond I was in contact with many Elves of Valinor, who had lived among the Valar, including those who had practiced their crafts. For some, this included sorcery. I heard tell among them, that the Valar were capable of creating mind bonds on certain individuals who practiced these arts. It meant that they shared their thoughts, their feelings and most importantly their magic. Together, by exploiting this bond, they could perform magic that singly would be impossible. They could accomplish anything."

Elboron had leaned in, hanging on the elf's every word, ears ringing.

"The Valar were always very careful with whom they blessed with this bond," he continued. "The ones involved would become very powerful indeed. They had to ensure they could trust these individuals. They were given guidance from the Valar themselves, taught to use the bond well. The bond allowed them to know each other inside and out, to not have any secrets between them which could lead to friction and cause danger. They became as one, because if not, they would be powerless."

The room sat in stunned silence for a moment. "This has happened before?" Eldarion asked in disbelief. "You're saying … we were chosen by the Valar?"

Elboron felt dizzy. He was glad he was seated for he felt it would be impossible to remain standing.

"There are several differences," the elf continued. "For one, all involved were Elves, never Men or those with mixed blood. Secondly, all were already well versed in magic. And lastly …" he trailed off here. "It always involved five members."

Neniel frowned. "Always five? Are you saying that there's a fifth person in Middle-Earth right now part of this bond? I have not sensed anyone else."

"Nor have I," agreed Elboron and Eldarion.

"But there are no other kingdoms in Middle Earth," said Gimli. "There have been no royal Dwarf children in decades. Unless the heirs of the Southrons or Westerlings are to be counted I think it's time for our kings here to think back to some of their transgressions and their less legitimate heirs, if you know what I mean."

"The prophecy only mentions four," said Elessar, brushing aside Gimli's comment with no more than a raised eyebrow. "Even if there is another involved with this bond, it does not follow that they are to be a part of this. Perhaps they are an heir yet unborn."

"Do you believe that you can teach these four royals to use this bond?" asked Imrahil, looking towards Brúnor.

"I am no expert, but I believe I can help," said Brúnor. "The Valar joined them for a reason, and I believe that reason is worth exploring. I will do what I can."

"I do not want my son learning magic," said King Bard immediately.

"If he was chosen by the Valar, he has no choice," said Elessar tightly. "There is a purpose to this bond. Perhaps together they can somehow defeat this new evil. That may be the way we defeat these Shadow Orcs."

Again, Elboron felt sick. He squirmed in his seat. The presence in his mind also felt uneasy.

"Do you mean that perhaps they can get the Silmarils?" asked Éomer. "Bring them into safe custody to prevent the Enemy from getting them?"

"No," said Elessar immediately and also Brúnor, Arveldir, Thranduil and most of the oldest elves.

"These jewels are not safe, and never will be" said Elessar. "My ancestors suffered for them. Like the One Ring, they are corrupting and cannot be kept by good people without being changed entirely. They are safer where they are, away from temptation."

"Not exactly free from temptation though, are they?" asked Eldarion. "Celegorm still wants them."

A disquieting silence fell over the gathered people. Thranduil's face was grey.

"I suggest we adjourn for present," he said. "There is much more discussion to be done in the following days, plans of action to be drawn up, alliances to be signed. In the meantime, I suggest our four royals begin to work together with Brúnor to explore this Valar-given bond. Perhaps in time we shall understand better."

Elessar, Legolas and Elboron's parents nodded, but King Bard wasn't pleased.

"This makes me very uneasy," he said. "I don't want my son sharing minds with other royals, particularly ones so much older and ... different from him," he said, eyes looking towards Eldarion and Neniel at this, lingering over their angular features and pointed ears. "He is too young. I do not even want him to be told about this."

Without meaning to, Elboron laughed aloud, immediately stopped when he saw the whole room state at him. He blushed and looked towards the King. "Sorry, my Lord," he said. "But he already knows. He's been listening outside the door for the last ten minutes."

"Oh!" said Eldarion, clapping his hands together as a look of comprehension dawned across his face. "That's what that was!"

King Bard immediately leapt from his seat and wrenched open the heavy door. Inside toppled a small child in a heap of fine cloth. He was lifted to his feet by his father who glared down at him. The child tossed his floppy brown hair out of his face and stood his ground, glaring at his father, though he came to no higher than his hip.

"You know better than to lurk outside meetings, Bain!" his father growled. "You have disobeyed and shamed me."

The child folded his arms and huffed. "You weren't going to tell me anything. I wanted to know!"

"This is beneath you, Bain. Not the actions of a prince."

"But I wanted to know!" the child whined, face screwed up in anger. "It's not fair. A prince should get to do what he wants. I want to learn the magic."

Elboron looked towards Eldarion and they raised their eyebrows. "Annoying isn't he?" said Elboron to him, and Eldarion laughed mentally.

Immediately, the child spun around and glared at the two of them, his face turning red and his fists balled at his side.

"I am not annoying!" he yelled, shaking.

"He said it!" Eldarion yelled back, pointing to Elboron as King Bard rounded on them.

"You laughed!" Elboron said pointedly back at Eldarion, who was now blushing as everyone turned to look at the two of them in disapproval.

Bain glared at Elboron, scowling fiercely. "Get out of my mind."

"I'm not in it!" Elboron said hastily. "I'm sorry, you-"

"I'm going to do the magic stuff, but I don't want anything to do with them," the boy pouted as he turned to his father. "Then I want to go home and kill all those orcs."

"Good luck with that," Eldarion said, biting his lip to not laugh aloud. Fortunately, this time the boy did not hear, with both men tightening their barriers.

As Elboron watched the boy however, he began to feel a sense of dread. How were the four of them supposed to work together to defeat the Enemy when one of the four was a spoiled child? And how could such a child be any help anyway?