TinĂºviel and Erchamion

Chapter One: Perilous Task and Fateful Ending

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------- Prologue:

The world is a strange thing. No one ever knows how fate works. No one ever knows what will happen next and how the people that you meet in a moment could affect your life forever.

One of the saddest and most renowned tales of fate is the tale of Beren and Luthien.

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"Beren, my son. I feel that some evil is lurking ever towards our lair and people. I ask that you go on a perilous errand. I ask this of you because I see that you have grown into manhood and have the knowledge and are capable of such a task," Barahir told his son.

"Father, with my honour. May I ask where I will be asked to go?" Beren replied.

Beren watched his father's face. There was a look of pain, sadness but a glint of pride as he looked at his son. After a moment Barahir said to his son, " My son, I ask that you journey to the lands of our enemy to discover their whereabouts and plans. This I know is task that is not to be taken lightly for I deem that we may not meet again."

"Do not say such things my Lord," Beren replied. " I will do as you ask for you and the sake of the Men of Dorthonion."

Taking leave of his father Beren left Tarn Aeluin and set off on this perilous task. He travelled over many lands and it was when he was sleeping in the forests of Brethil that he dreamt of carrion birds that filled the bare trees. The bright eyes of the birds watched him. Blood was dripping from their beaks. Horrified Beren saw in his dream a ghost of Gorlim who was one of his father's companions. "Beren, son of Barahir," the ghost said to him. " I have failed you all but I have paid dearly. I have betrayed the whereabouts of your father's lair to Sauron at the price of my wife's freedom. Make haste and warn your father of my treachery!" With that message Beren woke with cold sweat covering his whole body.

"Father!" he murmured. He sped through the forest and arrived in the second morning after his departure from the forests of Brethil. He walked towards the lair with a sense of foreboding. As he approached many carrion birds flew into the air and sat in the trees next the Lake of Tarn Aeluin.

"It is as my dream foretold," Beren said bitterly. He searched the ground for survivors and evidence of that fateful night. Beren buried his father's bones and raised a cairn above him. He then stood next to his father's grave. A fire grew inside of him. The impulse to avenge his father and companions. He then cried to the forest, "This I sware that that until the ends of the earth I will pursue with pure vengeance the creatures that dare to spill the blood of my kinsmen shall not escape the wrath of Beren son of Barahir!"

With this oath he tracked the orcs that killed his father and kinsmen to Rivils Well. "I have found you unfortunate creatures," Beren whispered bitterly to himself as he spied the faint light of the orcs campfire.

Beren was an excellent woodsman and because of this ability he neared the camp unseen or heard. As he drew near he could hear their captain boasting upon the murder of the men of Dorthonion.

"Got every single one I deed and made short work of them too," the Orc captain boasted. He spoke in Westron tongue so every word that came out of the captain's hideous mouth Beren could understand. As the Orc was boasting he held out the hand of Barahir near the fire so all could see.

"This hand is the hand of Barahir himself. This is too prove that our mission is fulfilled," at this comment the orcs around the fire jeered.

Beren sick with rage sprang out from his hiding place and slew the captain taking the hand, which bore the ring of Felagund and ran into the night. It was as though fate was watching him. The orcs of the camp were dismayed and confused so Beren escaped all their wild arrows.