The Eye of the Ice Dragon
by Elarin
Heh… if I ever get to the end of this tale there will be a thank you page for all you who have kept up with me in spite of my –ahem- procrastination… On with the tale!
*
Chapter 9 | i-Eithel na Rhîw (The Source of Winter)
"Ada! Ada!" the cry was fearful and Elrond was immediately woken from his dreaming. Estel ran in looking frightened and disturbed, his face pale. Elrond put both hands on the boys shoulders looking at him with concern.
"What is it, Estel?" He asked the breathless boy.
"It's Telperiel!" He exclaimed, "She's all cold and she won't wake up and she's muttering strange things in her sleep that frightened me!"
At hearing this Elrond swiftly made his way down the candle lit halls to her room only to find that Glorfindel had made it there first. He was rocking her still form in her arms softly singing the linnods of the praise to Varda. Estel followed close behind his grey eyes wide and worried, watching from the doorway.
"'Tis her nightmares, they are coming to her again." Glorfindel whispered. Elrond sat next to her and took her hand which was indeed cold, cold as ice.
"How can this be?" asked Elrond quietly. He was puzzled by this. Telperiel's nightmares usually came only in the winter, "'Tis not even Winter yet."
"Ada…" whispered Estel. Elrond and Glorfindel both looked to the boy whose gaze was looking past them in wonder. Both elder elves turned around and their gaze was locked for a long moment through the window.
It was snowing.
Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged questioning glances although neither of them had an answer. Estel was still staring outside confused.
"But how can this be?" asked the younger mortal bow looking at his elven step-father in wonder, "It's the middle of spring!"
-maeandhwe ast anel calanweniel- whispered Telperiel in her unintelligible tongue, her silver eyes opening, misted over by some vision. Then they rolled and they closed and she fainted.
"Ai!" exclaimed Glorfindel as she fell limp in his arms, seeming to weaken in a single moment.
"Lay her out!" Elrond ordered standing from the bed then he turned to the boy at the doorway, "Estel! Find Nerien and tell her to bring the herbs here!" The boy had already run off to comply. Glorfindel did as he was told his hand falling to her forehead where beads of sweat were freezing into a sheen of ice.
"She is cold, very cold…" Glorfindel said and then he rushed to light the fire in her room, "Elrond, have you ever healed such an ailment?" Glorfindel asked retrieving the fire wood as Elrond whispered calming things to her.
"Never," Elrond whispered turning to the golden haired elf as he rolled up his sleeves and as Nerien entered with the supplies, "Though I pray at this moment I shall be able to help her as best I can…" But his only thought at the moment was: Where is Gandalf when I need him?
*
"Oh my…!" said Bilbo Baggins as he reached to the window sill to grab the cherry pie he had baked. It was snowing heavily. "My petunias!" He exclaimed in surprise at the weather. It had taken him three seasons to finally be able to grow some fine petunias and now it was snowing.
"What is it Bilbo…?" Began Gandalf who had walked into his little dining room and then stared outside in surprise.
"Gandalf…" asked Bilbo turning around his eyes curious as he looked up at the gray clad wizard, "What is this queer weather in the middle of spring?! It is going to kill my daisies and my roses! And… my petunias!" He nearly wailed in sorrow. Gandalf swiftly rushed to put on his hat and he grasped his knarled staff, "Why! Where are you going Gandalf?" exclaimed the hobbit in surprise as he followed the wizard to his round green door.
"Pardon my sudden leave," said Gandalf turning to Bilbo, his face filled with concern, "But I am going to save your petunias."
And he was off.
Bilbo scratched his head watching as the wizard as he mounted his brown pony and sped off.
"Mr. Baggins!" came the upset voice of Vollie Dorfilhat who lived close by, "What trouble did your wizard friend bring this time!!!"
Bilbo quickly rushed back into his home slamming the door deciding he didn't want to deal with neighbors at this moment but as he gazed out the window at his garden which was beginning to ice over nicely he frowned.
"What trouble did my wizard friend bring to me?" He wondered mostly to himself.
He had a feeling that was going to be a tale to be told as well.
*
Telperiel, lasto bedh-nin, tulien ned galad… a soft voice called to her.The voice was faint, though familiar to her, warmth… she almost remembered it, warmth. But then an eye… a great blue eye wreathed in glistening ice and sparkling white scales opened itself to her and she was no longer where she had thought she was. Around her was a cave glistening with with icicles and snow, her cave, the place that had been her home for so long… and yet it never truly was her home… it had been her prison.
-Avar enath hrive awl?- whispered a familiar voice to her, like a crisp winter breathe –umarth undine alian corathwenthil…- Sadness overtook her then, and despair, as as she wept her tears were cold, flowing like winter streams.
-an recthal umarth calanweniel…- she answered, her voice small, filled with a terrible guilt for leaving, -im vanar unth reiual…-
She felt herself fading…
*
From far away a dark shriek pierced the northern forests in the ancient realm of Angmar silencing the winds and waters and all the creatures fled that heard it.
*
"She is growing delirious." said Glorfindel, "This is the worse yet her nightmares have been." Elrond replaced the warm cloth on her forehead. Over six hours had passed and he, as well as Elrond and Nerien stayed by Telperiel's side trying to wake her from her state.
"I do not think this is her nightmare alone, Glorfindel." said Elrond. She was shivering and muttering things in her unawakened state, "Something has been causing this…" He added staring out the window at the snowy storm outside, "Something linked with snow." As soon as Nerien left Glorfindel turned to him questioningly.
"The Ice Dragon?" Elrond shrugged at his sugestion and Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, "How do we even know if such a thing still lives? Would killing it end her pain?" He asked. Elrond stared at her pallid complexion as her tears stained her cheeks. He gave a deep remorseful sigh clasping his hands around her cold face and whispering words of warmth.
But she did not respond to him.
The vision of Celebrian dying by the Bruinen suddenly came to Elrond's mind. And you were helpless, came the voice of his conscience, you could not heal neither her heart nor her spirit that was broken by the fires of hatred and the iron of spite… Elrond closed his eyes feeling the memory of that despair suddenly surround him, but then her voice came to him out of memory, blue crystaline eyes sad, but unafraid, and her long silver hair tousled in a pool around her.
Namarie, Eldatan, u maruvan si nu tapulva…* Celebrian whispered to him her countenance shining as moonlight, her gaze holding his as she managed a soft smile, an elye tuluva! Nai Vardo eleni ilye lumenn enomentienvo siluvar! Namarie…*
Elrond opened his eyes and did not realize he was weeping.
Glorfindel's hand clutched his shoulder knowingly as the Halfelven wiped away the stray tears.
"This is not the same," said Glorfindel softly to his friend, "Telperiel shall live, and Celebrian still lives…"
"Elrond!" came a voice filled with urgency and surprise.
It was Gandalf.
Elrond stood from his spot suddenly and Glorfindel also looked up. The Grey Wandered was covered from head to foor in ice and snow and had it not been for the situation both elves would have found it a comical sight indeed. But at the moment, they had no time to ponder such a amusements. Ganadalf came quickly to Telperiel's bed side and put his hand to her head, closing his eyes, as if sensing for something.
"What ails her, Mithrandir?" asked Elrond quickly, "Can you heal her?" For I certainly cannot, he thought defeated looking at her limp form.
When Gandalf opened his eyes he looked crestfallen.
"This is not a matter that needs healing…" the wizard said slowly staring at Elrond, his voice heavy with ill news, "It is a matter of cutting chains, one linked of darkness and the other of ice."
*
They sat together by the fire of Telperiel's room, Nerien bringing Gandalf a hot drink. Elrond sat at the edge of Telperiel's bed watching the wizard curiously and pondering his words, "Your words are puzzling, Mithrandir, but it seems to me that they are ill news." The Halfelven said slowly, "And I am not fully sure I want to hear the explanation." All their faces seemed grim when they glanced over to the weak form on the bed.
Gandalf looked down wearily placing his cup on the table, "It will not bode well either way," He told Elrond reading his heart, "Neither for you if she dies, neither for her if she lives."
"I do not like these riddles." said Elrond his voice low with anger and concern, "Pray, speak plainly." Gandalf gave a long sigh in surrender.
"Very well," replied the wizard, "Perhaps I can help you fit the missing pieces to her tale, for I would guess you would both like to hear of it. Long ago there was a Numenorean lord at the side of your brother, Elros Tar-Minyatur, and his name was once Narquelion and he was once one of the greater lords of Andunie." He began. Narquelion? Strangely enough the name sounded vaguely familiar to Elrond's ears. Both elves continued to listen and Gandalf weaved his tale.
"Narquelion became an ambassador from Numenor to Middle Earth, he especially visited Fornost, and Lindon during the early years of the Second Age." Gandalf gave a deep sigh, "But early on Sauron came to meet with him and Narquelion fell into Sauron's web of deception long before any of the other Numenoreans had to deal with."
Suddenly Elrond remembered…
*
FLASHBACK
*
"Who is that?" asked Elrond from a balcony in Gil-galad's fortress mansion in Lindon as he gazed down at the Numenorean clothed in red velvet and golden regalia his silver eyes shining brightly. He had long dark hair and a short beard and his face seemed set in a noble seriousness. Gil-galad sighed then frowned at the mortal below greeting some of the elven counselors.
"He is Narquelion, one of the ambassadors of Numenor, one of the great lords of Andunie, he is also a counselor to your brother I believe," Gil-galad said but he narrowed his eyes at him, "But he has changed much in the past two years. He has become strangely arrogant." He said mostly to himself.
Elrond cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't most mortals as such?" Gil-galad shook his head at his friend.
"Not all," said the golden haired elven king his gray eyes looking down at the regal mortal figure before, "But there is something about this one that troubles me, I don't know what it is…" He shrugged, "Perhaps I am becoming old and starting to brood like Cirdan."
At this Elrond laughed.
"I don't think so."
*
END FLASHBACK
*
"He had been unmarried up to the point where he spied the daughter of Lord Sulramon, Lady Elentinwe, who at the time was wed to Prince Taristarion, one of your own distant kin. By foul betrayal he had Taristarion murdered and took Elentinwe as his bride and by her he had two sons, who also gained a strange long life." Gandalf said, "He had married late, in the year 432 of the Second Age, only a few years before your brother's death." Gandalf paused for a moment before continuing.
"By some dark boon of Sauron, long before the crafting of the rings of power, Narquelion out lived your brother and many thought it strange, though others simply decided it was some blessing of his descendency to have long life. He meddled deeply in the affairs of the Numenorean court and under Sauron's control he managed to start to weave some of the many lies and treachery there which would be the basis for the downfall of Numenor." Gandalf said his voice growing sad. "When Tar-Minastir took the scepter Narquelion had gained a high status in Numenor supporting the king. Elentinwe had long been since dead at this time and Narquelion had reached nearly his 2nd millenia of life." Gandalf frowned, "At this point he had attained one of the Nine Rings of Power given to mortal men, he had been given the one set with a blood red ruby and instilled with the power and craft of Sauron. Few could stand to be with Narquelion and yet through the power of Sauron, and his own treachery he married once again, a fair lady called Silmeriel who dreaded him, but because of her father's loyalty to the king she was betrothed to him. She begot Narquelion a daughter, whom she named Silme, and she was born during the corruption of Numenor when the Nine Lords of Andunie who wielded the wings used their powers of invisibility and betrayal to commit treason against their own."
Elrond took the brief moment to interrupt him, "But if Silme was born nearly two thousand years after Elros died how is it that she remembers him?" Gandalf sighed.
"That is another puzzle altogether." Gandalf told him, "But listen to the rest before you ask for the rest is still a long tale… As you know the Nine rings twisted their wearers to soon fade and become immortal and terrible wraiths which they are now. Narquelion could not reverse what had become and he was thrown under Sauron's will forever, but he was not so quick to surrender what he had gained in his mortal life before sundering to the call of the One Ring that drew him to Middle Earth. He took with him his daughter, which he had held some selfish affection for, and she had been only ten years of age."
"Of Narquelion another name is known, because of his service to Sauron the dark lord granted him a kingdom north of Eriador is a land called Angmar. The rest of that tale you know well but none knew that his daughter remained there… afraid… and desiring her mother… and wanting to flee far from the shadow that had once been her father." Gandalf said his voice weary, "In over confidence and glee at taking Eriador Sauron paid a visit to the Witch King and finding his daughter there he was amused that the wraith still insisted on keeping ties to his former life…" Gandalf suddenly stopped and there was a long moment of silence.
"And then what happened?" Elrond asked quietly seeing the heaviness in the other's eyes. Gandalf finally looked up and replied softly,
"Sauron toyed with her and the man who was once Narquelion could do nothing of it chained under his will by the Ring. Sauron had his way with her, tortured her, mocked her, and nearly left her to die in Angmar before returning to Mordor and he bid the Witch King to surrender the girl to slavery in Mordor or to kill her." Gandalf replied, "But Narquelion's anger and hatred for Sauron was the same anger and hatred he felt for himself at what happened there that night. He was too arrogant to let anyone deal that way with one of his blood line and some mortal pity lied in him yet in those days. He knew of the Ice Dragon in Ered Mithrin and in defiance of Sauron he left her there knowing full well that she would live forever if she remained under its vigilant gaze locked in the labyrinths of time."
The expression on both Elrond's and Glorfindel's at the end of the tale was a mixture of rage and sadness at what Gandalf told them.
"Her pain," Gandalf continued, "Is bred not only from that which was inflicted on her innoncence long ago by Gorthaur, but also by the long life which she was given. The Second Born of Iluvatar are not meant to have such a long life, their being is not meant to suffer it and neither do they have the will to deal with the sadness and terrible things of the world. She should have died that day in Angmar, when Sauron raped and tortured her. She should have been released from the confines of the world having suffered enough. But in his pride the Witch King commited a grievous deed more harmful to his daughter than he could ever imagine." Another pause.
Gandalf looked in Elrond' s eyes as if conveying a silent message and then he answered, "Her spirit is dying." The grey wizard continued with his explanation.
"It cannot withstand the torment of long life and the spell of forgetfulness the Ice Dragon has laid on her not only cuts out the truth of what she suffered but dispells her being as well. She does not remember the torture nor the pain, for that reason when you came to her she was childish, as if she had not lived at all. She does not recall her life nor her name. She does not recall any existense before you found her. She is dying Elrond, her existense is dying, and if she remains longer in this world without knowing who she is her body shall fail her and her spirit shall break as if she never was." Gandalf finished in a whisper.
"What must we do?" Glorfindel asked finally his eyed filled with sadness, "Are you asking us, then, to kill her?" Elrond's eyes flashed at him with the idea.
"No!" Gandalf quickly protested before Elrond started arguing, "Absolutely not!"
Elrond turned his gaze to her again, and now it seemed she slept quietly, "Then how do we save her?" He asked quietly turning back toward Gandalf. Gandalf leaned back in his chair giving a deep sigh.
"She must remember herself," Gandalf answered grimly, "You must take her back. You must take her back to the source of her winter."
*
AN: wow… now what? So tell me, honestly, what do you think of this story so far?
NOTES: *this comes from a Quenya poem written by Bjiorn Fromen it was printed in the book "An Introduction to Elvish" by Jim Allan
Elenya- the name of the island where the nation of Numenor was settled.
Gorthaur- the Sindaren name for Sauron, means something like 'The Terrible' (kind of, I'm taking this off the top of my head)
"Telperiel, lasto bedh-nin, tulien ned galad"- "Telperiel, hear my voice, come back to the light." (I borrowed it from the movie…)