Sacred Smoke and A Ring Bearer
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I am in no way shape or form a Tolkien!
Still, together they went,
A hobbit and a huntress.
Finding their course by her instinct,
A cave did they find.
Deep and dark,
Unknown to many, a
Place where the Ring would be safe
Until its time had come...
Chapter 3
"Here it is, Smeagol." Sacred Smoke declared, pointing to the mouth of a cave. The three-week journey had taken a toll on both of them, for the darkness of the One was at work. Yet she had faired better than he. Together they walked into the cave and once in the shadow, she curled up her satiny gray legs and drew him into a hug. "I will miss you my friend. To keep you safe, we will not meet again in this lifetime. I will await you in the Halls of Mandos but for now, leave you with this riddle:
A gem born unto a people proud,
In the house of an elf.
By two names is she known,
A huntress of the Ancient Creed.
But one of nine will she be.
Powers ancient, frienship strong.
Who is the huntress the Valar call to council?"
She then rose to her hooves and turned from a friend she wouldn't see again in this life. But it was for his own good, and the good of all of Arda. Smeagol called a farewell after her, feeling that in his heart, she would always be near; somehow.
Then there was that riddle. She had been crying when she posed it and now he knew it would take many years to solve. Her voice then floated back to him in song; a song that was akin to prophecy.
"Years flow by under the mountain,
Darkness creeps back into the land.
A Ring of Power sees its time
Leaves the Bearer by the wayside.
A lost hobbit picks up the Ring
Unintended by its power.
What was intended is now lost,
As dwarves, men, elves and eagles fight.
Goblins are their foe. The new Bearer
Is unseen as the battle rages.
Then
Takes the Ring unto his home
Years flow by under the hill
The Ring quiet in his keeping.
Until the day he walks away
And leaves it to another.
The one before them forced to tell
Where the younger hobbit lay.
Nine Nazgul, dressed in black
Ride into the fair land.
Yet their haste unneeded
The Bearer had fled.
Into a town of the Big Folk,
Awaiting the Mighty Wizard of the West.
In their company was a Dunedain,
Who became a friend.
The Nazgul
They fooled and fled unto the east.
Yet their light by night was seen and
The Bearer stabbed.
His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy what his craft could not unmake.
Only by the fires of Mount Doom could it be unmade.
The Nine, they came of four hobbits,
an elf, a dwarf, two men and a wizard.
Light unto the darkness,
Through Moria
They went where the wizard fell.
Lothlorien became their refuge for a time.
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away.
Yet the Son of Gondor, the Ring tried to take.
Urak-high found them upon the shore,
Captured two hobbits and killed the Son of Gondor.
Two hobbits fled into the darkness of Mordor,
True friends bearing the Ring.
Guided by one called Gollum,
Did they the mountain find.
Yet the Ring laid claim upon
The Bearer's light heart.
Gollum attacked him, bit finger from hand
And fell to his firey end.
The darkness, still it lingered
Held by the Dark Huntresses.
By such power the One re-forged."
Sacred Smoke slid on the moist rock on the floor of the cave. She landed on her knees as tears continued to stream down her face. Somehow she knew that the Gollum on the song was Smeagol.
"Now the Gem of a people proud
Among outsiders finds friends.
The Bearer restored but only eight
Of Nine alive.
The Gem shone upon their journey
To the 'Dell. There friends of
Her mother were met. A green fire-flyer
Always at her side.
Fled they to Mirkwood the Great
Where the Prince was not believed.
To the ground she bore the doubter
The king brought them
To their halls among the trees.
One of the Nine she became; her green
Fire-flyer at her side. Huntresses rallied,
The races before them called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck.
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."
Sacred Smoke emerged from the dank cave and into the warm light of the sun. She brushed the dirt and grime of the cave off of herself and turned back to the dark opening. "Till seeing, my friend." The huntress struck up a ground-eating trot, as smooth as the wind. Already, her father would be furious. Deep within, she felt an urgency. Lord Elrond would know of her song; she would teach it to him.
Echo the Nymph
Disclaimer: I am in no way shape or form a Tolkien!
Still, together they went,
A hobbit and a huntress.
Finding their course by her instinct,
A cave did they find.
Deep and dark,
Unknown to many, a
Place where the Ring would be safe
Until its time had come...
Chapter 3
"Here it is, Smeagol." Sacred Smoke declared, pointing to the mouth of a cave. The three-week journey had taken a toll on both of them, for the darkness of the One was at work. Yet she had faired better than he. Together they walked into the cave and once in the shadow, she curled up her satiny gray legs and drew him into a hug. "I will miss you my friend. To keep you safe, we will not meet again in this lifetime. I will await you in the Halls of Mandos but for now, leave you with this riddle:
A gem born unto a people proud,
In the house of an elf.
By two names is she known,
A huntress of the Ancient Creed.
But one of nine will she be.
Powers ancient, frienship strong.
Who is the huntress the Valar call to council?"
She then rose to her hooves and turned from a friend she wouldn't see again in this life. But it was for his own good, and the good of all of Arda. Smeagol called a farewell after her, feeling that in his heart, she would always be near; somehow.
Then there was that riddle. She had been crying when she posed it and now he knew it would take many years to solve. Her voice then floated back to him in song; a song that was akin to prophecy.
"Years flow by under the mountain,
Darkness creeps back into the land.
A Ring of Power sees its time
Leaves the Bearer by the wayside.
A lost hobbit picks up the Ring
Unintended by its power.
What was intended is now lost,
As dwarves, men, elves and eagles fight.
Goblins are their foe. The new Bearer
Is unseen as the battle rages.
Then
Takes the Ring unto his home
Years flow by under the hill
The Ring quiet in his keeping.
Until the day he walks away
And leaves it to another.
The one before them forced to tell
Where the younger hobbit lay.
Nine Nazgul, dressed in black
Ride into the fair land.
Yet their haste unneeded
The Bearer had fled.
Into a town of the Big Folk,
Awaiting the Mighty Wizard of the West.
In their company was a Dunedain,
Who became a friend.
The Nazgul
They fooled and fled unto the east.
Yet their light by night was seen and
The Bearer stabbed.
His life they saved by the skill of an elven-lord.
The story of the Ring told. A dwarf attempted
To destroy what his craft could not unmake.
Only by the fires of Mount Doom could it be unmade.
The Nine, they came of four hobbits,
an elf, a dwarf, two men and a wizard.
Light unto the darkness,
Through Moria
They went where the wizard fell.
Lothlorien became their refuge for a time.
When the Lady of Light bid them farewell,
Water bore them away.
Yet the Son of Gondor, the Ring tried to take.
Urak-high found them upon the shore,
Captured two hobbits and killed the Son of Gondor.
Two hobbits fled into the darkness of Mordor,
True friends bearing the Ring.
Guided by one called Gollum,
Did they the mountain find.
Yet the Ring laid claim upon
The Bearer's light heart.
Gollum attacked him, bit finger from hand
And fell to his firey end.
The darkness, still it lingered
Held by the Dark Huntresses.
By such power the One re-forged."
Sacred Smoke slid on the moist rock on the floor of the cave. She landed on her knees as tears continued to stream down her face. Somehow she knew that the Gollum on the song was Smeagol.
"Now the Gem of a people proud
Among outsiders finds friends.
The Bearer restored but only eight
Of Nine alive.
The Gem shone upon their journey
To the 'Dell. There friends of
Her mother were met. A green fire-flyer
Always at her side.
Fled they to Mirkwood the Great
Where the Prince was not believed.
To the ground she bore the doubter
The king brought them
To their halls among the trees.
One of the Nine she became; her green
Fire-flyer at her side. Huntresses rallied,
The races before them called again to the Crystalline Fields.
Many long battles they fought
Against the forces Mordor.
At last, they the final blow struck.
The One Ring cast back into the fire,
Balance restored."
Sacred Smoke emerged from the dank cave and into the warm light of the sun. She brushed the dirt and grime of the cave off of herself and turned back to the dark opening. "Till seeing, my friend." The huntress struck up a ground-eating trot, as smooth as the wind. Already, her father would be furious. Deep within, she felt an urgency. Lord Elrond would know of her song; she would teach it to him.