AGARWAEN-BOR
CHAPTER 2 – SHADOWY APPEARENCE
Aranwë entered the Hall of Fire. Sitting in a chair at the far end was Elrond. Gathered around him were several dark-haired Elves. They sat chanting the Lay of Lethian, as they always did on the anniversary of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. Aranwë sat listening to the tale, though he had heard before. When it was over the dark-haired Elves stood up and each bowed to Elrond before leaving. "It is such a sad tale…" Elrond said thoughtfully as Aranwë approached him.
"Do not regret your allowance of King Elessar's wedding, Lord Elrond." Aranwë said, perceiving Elrond's thought.
"I do not regret it. But as it is done, I cannot change it. I once told Aragorn that Arwen deserved a man no lesser than the King of Gondor and Arnor, and that he is. I do not begrudge him either. But that can not be the reason you wished to speak with me, Master Aranwë."
"No indeed, Lord Elrond. I bring messages from the Ford. Elpalan caught one of the Dunlendings roaming in the area."
"Did you set him free?"
"No."
"I see. What did this Man have to say? It is not often the wild folk cross the Misty Mountains. I see why you did not let him go before seeing me."
"His name, he says is Murmak. It seems to me to be a name from the Black Speech of the Orcs. The Dunlendings have their own language."
"Odd indeed. Murmak is indeed a name derived from the Speech of the Orcs. Take me to him."
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Gimli, son of Gloin kept his hand close to his axe haft as he climbed the slopes of the Misty Mountains. He had known that the Orcs had been driven out by the Elves, as he had heard of it from Legolas, but he did not entirely trust these Mountains. His people knew well the many passages of the Lonely Mountain, and knew well enough of old the many paths of Khazad-dûm, but the Misty Mountains were well known as one of the chief dwelling places of the Orcs.
Gimli had wanted to go through the Gap of Rohan and then strike north to get to Rivendell. However he was suddenly attacked by a group of Orcs and forced into the Misty Mountains. He did not like the Misty Mountains, still treating them as if they housed numerous tribes of Orcs, even after the sortie of the Elves.
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Slowly, an old man may his way over the mountains. He had seen a Dwarf go that way and wished to see what such a creature might be doing in these parts. Following the bent man was an Elf, clad in white. A broad sword wrought of white mithril glittered at his side. If the Dwarf had noticed the Elf and the Man following him, he would have turned greeted them instantly.
"Olórin, the day draws on. We do not have time to search for this Dwarf that you say you know. Our victory over the Orcs at the foot of the mountains was probably watched." The old man turned to face the Elf. He had bushy grey eye brows and a long grey beard.
"Galadfân, you must be patient with me. I am old and weary, but my eyes do not yet deceive me." The Elf sighs. "You are impatient, Galadfân. It is not like one of the Elves to be so impatient."
"You and I both know I am in Elf form under the request of Lord Manwë. I am glad that I could come in such a form, but I must admit, I can be impatient."
"But enough of this! I have almost lost sight of our friend! We must catch up to him!" the old man sprang away over the rocks, followed by the fair Elf, called Galadfân.
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Elrond stepped onto the lush grass that was now littered with the falling brown leaves, so common in Rivendell. As he looked to the gate he saw a group of Elves gathered around a figure hunched in the center of the ring of Elves. As Elrond approached, the man looked up and met his gaze, though Elrond could not see it, since the man was completely concealed under a grey cloak. As Elrond drew closer a smile grew on the man's face. Elpalan stepped forward. "Lord Elrond. We caught him wandering around the fences of our land. We were unable to remove his cloak, for every time we tried, he leaped away. He has told us he is from Dunland and his name is Murmak, but we couldn't get anything else from him. A smile also crept onto the Elrond's face.
"You are poorly disguised Andú. Though elven eyes cannot pierce cloth, I could tell who this grey-clad Southerner was. No man from Dunland could avoid six Elven-archers, unless he be of the kin of Aragorn Elf-stone." Elrond said. The man removed his hood and he had not the face of a wild man out of Dunland, but that of a Ranger of the North. His hair, drooping with sweat, hid his lean face, and his head was bowed.
"Lord Elrond. I beg your pardon, I did not wish to disturb you. I wished to inform you of matters concerning many things, but I was forbidden to reveal my purpose to any aside from you, unless it be to Lord Mithrandir or Lady Galadriel or Lord Cirdan. I passed north from my camp in Eregion and under the leaves of the small, yet dangerous forest south of here; I arrived at the gate. Your guards would not let me pass, for I was not reveal my identity, either, and I took the disguise of a Dunlander, since many of that wild folk dwell in Eregion, close to the slopes of the Misty Mountains, and I had no hope to pass through there unhindered otherwise."
"You will rest for a short time and then tell me of your errand. Aranwë, guide Master Andú to his room." Elrond said, before bowing to the Elves assembled there and turning back. Aranwë looked the man called Andú up and down. He had a sword at his belt, inside of its sheath, and a quiver and arrow across his back. He wore a grey cloak, like the Rangers did before the return of the King to Gondor.
"My name is Aranwë. I see you are of Dol Amroth, you have an elvish air about you, like the people of that land do."
"It is said that elven blood runs through the veins of my people."
"Come, I will show you to your room, then." Aranwë said, turning.
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Falathar looked up grimly from his drink. It had been many years since he had been in Bree. Across from his sat a robed figure, whose face was hidden.
"And so King Elessar wanes. Indeed, our plan shall be made much easier after he is dead. Your father Eldarion is a great man but nothing to what King Elessar was." The figure said, its voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it filled Falathar with fear.
"Indeed, Master. But there is one thing I am worried about."
"Yes?"
"The Halflings, Master. For because of the Halflings, Sauron the Great was disembodied and broken."
"I have learned much from my old Master. For we were both servants of the Dark Lord ere the hosts of Valinor broke Angband and threw him into the void. We both pleaded innocence and then became emissaries to Númenor. We persuaded Ar-Pharazon to attack Valinor with a fleet. The rest of my story is for another occasion. Indeed, one thing I learned from Sauron is to not underestimate the Halflings of the West."
"What then shall we do."
"Nothing. Leave them be for now."