Author's Note: Hello, someone persuaded me, but I won't tell you who (LegoalsGL619!) to write a lotr fic. It's really a fic that is still in working progress so I would advice all to proceed with utmost caution. Anyway, as for the full summary, a portal was opened to the far east of Middle-earth. The Fellowship somehow enters it without knowing and discovers what lies beyond the realm of Rhun. Please read and review! Let me know what you think. ~Mystic Pebs~
Prologue
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The Fellowship was made and their journey was well underway. They voyaged through woods and hills and mountains. When, at last, they reached the dark halls of Moria when they were attacked by orcs and a balrog. In battling the balrog, the wizard, Gandalf the Grey, fell into the abyss, leaving the devastated, but not divided, Fellowship behind to continue the rest of the journey without him. Aragorn, now being the leader, reluctantly chose to go on without him. Now, they are journeying towards the woods of Lothlorien, but little did they know that an alternative journey has already been set before them…
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Many leagues past the Sea of Rhun, a little past the place of which the first men and elves woke, there is a set of mountain ranges that have never been traveled upon before in about an eon. To anyone who lives near them, they were called the Lost Mountains. "Lost" for there was always a mist surrounding the peaks even during the summer time, and so you cannot see what was behind those mists. Little did they know that the fairest beings lived in the Lost Mountains, and they call themselves the Mountain Elves. Fair and wise these elves are. They favor the sound of the winds and the twinkling of the stars, because these things carried news of past, present, and future to them. They are peaceful and loved to be amongst themselves and did not associated with the other races of Middle-Earth, even to their own elven-brothers of the west. In the Lost Mountains, or Eladrien, as they called it, they dwelled peacefully and followed the news that the winds carried them from the west. For some time, this news, of course, were not so good. For in these times, the ground is trembling and the winds are changing with the whispers of fear and shouts of terror. Many of these were gathered by the wisest Mountain elf who lived in Eladrien, his name is Trimonitep. He was the greatest and oldest prophet of the Mountain elves. This is where our story begins, in the mountains of Eladrien, the House of the King Morandil Soarmount.
Trimonitep was sitting in a great room bathed with the sun's light. It was a grand, marble room filled with rolls of parchment and shelves of books. He was again studying his scrolls for the last time. He wanted to make sure that he had everything in place before his journey to the Great River Of Incantes, which was the "road" to take to the Grey Havens (and eventually to Valinor) by the Mountain elves. He also wanted them to be organized so that his trusted student/apprentice, the Princess Aravad Soarmount, the only daughter of King Morandil, can study them. He leaned over to get a better look on the parchment he was reading. A gust of wind blew from the opened window and scattered his scrolls on the floor.
"What luck this is! When I had them almost to my liking, the wind pushes them away!" he muttered under his breath as he stood up to pick them up. He halted and listened for a bit. His dark green, twinkling eyes were staring straight ahead. "Oh, this cannot be good, not good at all. Times indeed are changing."
"Since when does it not?" asked a female voice. He turned around to see whom the voice belonged to. A tall and beautiful young woman with hair that was so long and so dark like the starless night and dressed in a flowing, palest blue dress made with the fairest elvish cloth. It shined against the sunlight that flowed in the room. She wore a silver circlet with beads that looked as unbreakable as an ivory but they shined like pearls. "Are you planning to bring these scrolls with you to the west?"
"No, no, my dear, I was simply running through them again to make sure I have not missed anything. After all, as of tomorrow, you will be using them to write your own scrolls," said Trimonitep, picking up his last piece of scroll off the ground. Aravad walked towards him and helped pick up the scrolls. He sat back to his chair with a weary look on his ageless face. His long, golden hair flowed down his shoulders as he leaned back to read his writings. Aravad surveyed him with her dark gray eyes. She looked at him as if she was trying to read his thoughts. At last, she spoke.
"You are worried about the journey, are you not?"
"Very much so, I have never traveled away from Eladrien before, and knowing that I cannot go back to her borders. But I have no regrets, for my time here is passing. I shall be quite relieved when I get there. As you know, I never did like traveling, whether walking or riding on a boat." He looked at the sad expression on her face. He put his scrolls down and said in a pleasant voice, "Do you remember what I first taught you about the stars?"
Aravad's young face had lightened a little bit. "Of course, you said that they have the tendency to deceive the fates of individuals. They seem to say both yes and no."
"That is why the elves advice the way they do," chuckled Trimonitep. "Very good that you remembered. Now, do you remember what I first taught you about the wind?"
"Yes, you said that the wind is the earth singing its many songs to the creations of the land. Though not many understand its language, it most certainly brings many news to the one who listens to it," said Aravad, smiling and stood back on the same place she was standing on.
Trimonitep gazed away to the outside of the room, his eyes anxious and sad. He sighed and said, "I have taught you too well, my Aravad, too well, indeed. I am afraid that if your father finds out, he will have my head. That is if I haven't left yet," he added with a slight smile.
"But father said you haven't taught me everything. He often talked about the ways of the west. That he says, you have not taught me."
He looked thoughtful. After a while, he said, "Ah, I know of which he speaks of. And yes, he is right. I am afraid I do not know how to teach you that. But a wise man once told me that it is better to experience it than to explain it with words."
Aravad looked at him, puzzled. "I do not understand. What experience of which you speak of, Master Trimonitep?"
He was about to tell her when the king strode into the room. He looked like a great and ageless king standing proud and strong over his kingdom. His hair was as dark like his daughter's and flowed down his broad shoulders. It was shiny and long with a silver circlet on his brow. He walked over to Aravad and smiled.
"Having some last minute lessons, I see, eh, Trimonitep? What have you got to teach my daughter that you have not taught her yet?" asked the King Morandil to the prophet, his voice strong and deep like his stature.
"Nothing more than what I already had. She has learned so much than any of the students that I have ever taught," answered Trimonitep.
"Good, and you are ready for tomorrow's trip? It will take at least two days for us to journey there," he explained to Trimonitep. He turned to his daughter and said, "I understand that you will remain here to look after the kingdom? But you do not have to, my daughter. Eladrien can be left alone for a few days. No one will dare trespass her borders."
"I feel better if I was to be left behind, father. I do not want to see Master Trimonitep to leave to the Havens. It would be rather difficult for me," she said. "Besides, I do need practice being in charge of the kingdom, for someday it will be my turn to rule Eladrien," she added with a smile.
"What sly creature you are, my daughter!" exclaimed Morandil. "Then so be it. You shall stay here with your handmaidens while the rest of us journey to the Great River of Incantes."
"Ah, the river shall serve as the road to the Havens," said Trimonitep, slightly frowning. "We surely cannot stray of our way." He stood up and took Aravad's left hand. "To my dear student, Aravad, only this I can say to you, let the stars and winds guide you to your path. Your powers were not just given to you out of spite but they know you have the strength to handle them. Ah, my time is drawing ever so near. Farewell, my Aravad, I have been at your service for only so long. I do hope that it was more than what I can give you."
"Do not worry, Master Trimonitep, your service is well-served," said Aravad, bowing to him.
"No more of this unhappy parting. We should make it a grand farewell! You are leaving this world for a better one, Trimonitep," said Morandil, putting an arm around the prophet. "Come, a great celebration has been set up for you. Let us go and join the others."
And that night, when the moon waned over the high mountain kingdom of Eladrien, a farewell celebration was held in honor of the master prophet of the Mountain elves, Trimonitep Clearbreeze.
I hope you liked that. I really sucked at summaries so I do hope you review. Let me know what you think and feel free to suggest things coz this is my first time to write a lotr fanfic. Please leave a review! Thank you!