In the dim, candle lit lore chamber of the Citadel sat
Arathadan, reading over one of the many scrolls and tomes
that sat upon the table in front of him. All of these works
were the documents told of by the King Elessar on the dead
language of Angmarian. How many hours he had spent in this
room, he had lost count of; the tedious work of reading and
re-reading all of these works only interrupted by the
occasional drink and meal sent down, undoubtedly by the King,
and by the rests that the Prince took every, so he guessed,
hour. A knock upon the door interrupted the Prince's reading.
Sighing, and standing, he walked over, and opened the door.
There stood Elessar himself, bearing a torch with him. "My lord Prince, still at work?" He dismissed the bow and salute given by the other, and entered into the lore chamber, walking to the table, looking over the various open scrolls and tomes.
"Aye, lord, I am still at work. Would you happen to know the time?"
A smile came over the King's face. "Aye, I do. It happens to by after nightfall, Prince. Go, get ye to your rest, or, if you're not feeling too tired, the Captain of your Guard has asked me to ask you if you would speak with him. His name is Gimrunal, and he said he would be waiting for you outside the Citadel." With a nod, a salute, and a bow, the Prince exited from the chamber, and climbed the many stairs until he came to the main hall of the Tower of Ecthelion, from which he exited. Indeed, it was night, the moon riding high in the sky, and many stars alight. Walking across the courtyard, he walked down the path that led into the outthrust spur of rock that the city was built around, and found the aforementioned Captain Gimrunal.
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Faellor walked quietly in one of the gardens of Minas Anor, bedecked in his new livery. It felt strange to him to become prince of an old Elven land, to reside in the very city where the Rings of Power were made. The very city of which Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, grandson of Fëanor established the Elf city of Ost-in-Edhil, which he was to take as his chief city, to be rebuilt with the help of not only the Rivendell artisans, but with some help of the Dwarves of the Glittering Caves. Would be a strange combination to see, a city built not only by Elves, but also Dwarves. He looked to the sky, and saw the many stars, and the moon. Though, one star stood out amongst the others: the star of Eärendil, hero to both Men and Elves, for it was Eärendil, who pleaded to the Valar on behalf of the Two Kindreds at the end of the First Age, which brought the War of Wrath, and the banishment of Melkor Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, and which brought the raising of Númenor as a present to the faithful Edain.
The gardens were marvelous things, with many trees, birds, and flowers of all sorts, brought by the King's Elf friend, Legolas Greenleaf, who was now in Ithilien with some of his kin. Faellor spent some time in the different gardens before he finally returned to his room, and fell into a deep sleep.
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The other lords and princes did much the same for the next two weeks, Arathadan studying Angmarian, Faellor walking in the gardens, Aelbor studying maps of the Angle, to look for the ideal place for his capital, Dolgalad speaking with the locals, Brendel training with his Guard, and finally Baur doing the same. On the eve the fortnight was due to expire, Elessar gathered them all, and had them for a farewell feast in the Merethrond, or Hall of Feasts. The food was plenty and good, and after all was done; each stood to say their farewells to their king.
"My lord, I bid you farewell for the present until you come join us in the North." Spoke Aelbor first.
"My king, I bid you a long and prosperous reign." Dolgalad spoke this.
"Soraidh, mo righ." This was spoken by Arathadan, which rewarded him with a quizzical tilt of the head from Elessar. "It means 'Farewell, my king'." A nod. "Ah, I see the studying has paid off."
"Until you come to the North, my king." Baur spoke this after embracing the King, as would one kin.
"My lord, until you return to your homeland." This was spoken by Faellor.
"My liege, until you come to grace the north again." Brendel said this, as he bowed low, as each man did.
"Until then, my lords and princes, or sooner, as events decide. Now, hasten to Pelargir, and board your ships. Your princedoms await thy presence, as do your peoples. Hasten!"
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The ships sailed smoothly from their quays, and down the Anduin, their sails unfurling to catch the wind. The three ships carrying the Princes and their Guard carried two Princes and their Guard each, with the fourth carrying the horses for Arathadan and his Guard. The journey took several weeks, as opposed to the up to half a year as it would have over land. The ships gracefully glided into the quays at Tharbad as night fell, greeted by many persons. Among them were Elves, both of Lindon and of Rivendell, and Dwarves, both from the Ered Luin and from the Glittering Caves. Hundreds of them were gathered as the Princes and their Guards disembarked from the ships, and the horses brought.
"My lords and princes, I am Aranwë, chief Artisan of Rivendell. With me are what is left of me and my kind, and those of Lindon, three hundreds in all. I can afford to send fifty with each of you." This was spoken by a tall Elf, dressed in the manner of his kind, in gentle blues and grays. "My lords, I am Gurmid, of the Ered Luin. I bring with me five hundred of my kin. I can give each of you eighty-three of my brethren for your services." A Dwarf spoke this, like to most other Dwarves, with rich garments and armor on, with a brown beard that had many jewels at the end of braided twines. "And I, my lords, am Frignar, assistant master artisan of the Glittering Caves. I, however, bring less of my kin, only one hundred in all. Sixteen is what I can give to each of you, myself included." This was spoken by another Dwarf, like in dress to the others, though to a less decadent degree than Gurmid.
Aelbor nodded. "Good, very good. Well, if your peoples would disperse, and pick a lord or prince of their liking, we shall swiftly be on our way."
With this settled, the large group of artisans and craftsmen broke up, going this way and that, choosing a lord or prince based on where they intend to build their cities. Only the heartiest of each race would go with Arathadan to Carn Dûm, which still bore an evil name. Of this, Noldorin Elves where those of that kindred to go, and as for the Dwarves, only the heartiest. Borrowing many horses from the local people, with promise of their return, Arathadan led his company away north, shouting parting words to the rest, riding a quick pace. The others soon left in turn, Dolgalad staying in Tharbad, which he intended to make his city. Faellor left southeastward for a bit with his company before turning north, to cross the Glanduin, upon which the other side rested Ost-in-Edhil.
Aelbor left northwards, to take the Greenway to Bree, then along the Great East Road. Baur followed Aelbor's company, with the intent on breaking off from them when they reached Weathertop. Brendel simply strode off with his company northwards, towards the far distant South Downs.
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Dolgalad watched as the others departed, then turned to those that had remained, not to mention the local townsfolk. "Tharbad shall be rebuilt by the skill and craft of these gracious Elves and Dwarves. I shall take this city as my chair. Let us start the work."
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Several months past before letters started trickling down to Elessar from the North, brought to him sometimes up to a month apart. He first received word from Dolgalad, who had established himself in Tharbad. He described the city in his letter as 'looking quite beautiful, yet strong at the same. Many gardens and trees line the roads and courtyards, while the roads, buildings, walls, and quays are made from the best stone, and the best ability of the Dwarves. Strong, and yet fragile.'
He next received word from Faellor. 'My liege, I have restored Ost-in-Edhil, to beyond its former glory from what many of the Noldorin Elves tell. Strong walls, houses, and roads were built by the Dwarves, not to mention mine own Citadel, though, in all that cold stone there are many gardens, bearing many trees, plants, and songbirds. The fact that the river Glanduin runs close makes this place much more.Elvish. In front of my Citadel stands a fountain, with a likeness of a tall Elf lord, and an equally tall Númenoréan lord.beautiful.'
From Brendel came next word. 'My king, my city of Ost- in-Annuunin (City of the Westernesse) is a sight to behold. Sitting in the South Downs, the Elves have taken the natural beauty of this land, and seemingly to place it all in this city, whilst the Dwarves have made strong works of stone, my Citadel is a sight to behold amongst their works."
The letter of Aelbor arrived next. 'My liege lord, I have constructed my city, Birthombar (a name given to me by the Elves. Some said it looked like that city of ancient times) at the point where the Mitheithel and the Bruinen meet. Many gardens, many green and living things in this city, and strong buildings made by the Dwarves.'
Next, word came from Baur. 'My lord, I have rebuilt Weathertop, and have placed mine city, Ondosto, in the middle of the Weather Hills. As I am sure the others have told you, there are many gardens here, but I chose the name because of the majority of stone buildings and works of the Dwarves, and also that mine folk came from the same township of Númenor before the foundering.'
Lastly, he received word from Arathadan. 'Greetings, my king. Carn Dûm has been rebuilt, and is indeed a much better place for it, and your kingship was right: the majority of the folk here speak the dead language of Angmarian, but I have resurrected it and given it a new name: Forvenlam, or North Tongue in Sindarin. The city is full of gardens and works of stone, beautifully integrated. If one was not careful, one could rest again a stone tree, taking it for a real one, and yet be astonished of how smooth the stone is, like young bark.'
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As winter set in, Arathadan watched as the final tasks of the artisans were taking place, mainly with the Gate of Carn Dûm, and the Citadel. The work was being sped up because of the soon coming of winter, which might fall hard upon those here, being in the far north after all, just south of the Northern Wastes.
To his great surprise, the local folk did not try to kill him or his Guard, but instead welcomed them with open arms, taking him as their lord. The folk were hardy and skilled in the ways of this land, leading the artisans to what materials they required, and many volunteered their service for the garrison, and were greatly accepted by the lord Prince Arathadan. One of the local Men here, by the name of Tharni, was very friendly with the lord Prince, and was indeed made Captain of the Garrison. Tharni was a man of short and broad stature, like many of those here in the north, standing at perhaps just over five and one half feet. With a pale complexion, and with brown hair and eyes, he was the leader of one of the many local tribes, and rumor was told that he was a fell opponent in battle, and that Orcs and other foul things stayed clear of the lands in which his tribe resided.
The Citadel was to be perhaps the first accomplished. Made of the stone from the foothills and from the mountains in the distance, it was all constructed from the gray stone quarried from the Misty Mountains, save for the top third of the tower, which was constructed of the red stone of the foothills, and at its pinnacle flew not only the banner of the lord Prince, but at the very tip was a blue gem, comparable in size to that of what is commonly used in the centerpiece of necklaces. The doors of the tower were of a rich, darkly stained oak, engraved with a relief of the Meneltarma, inlaid with silver, and the top of the peak with gold. The windows were covered upon the inside by velvet shades of dark, rich greens and blues. The Gate of the Citadel was of stone, with numerous Númenoréan tracings upon them, bringing up the images of birds, trees, and plants not of Middle-earth. Upon the inside of the door, indeed the whole Citadel is circled by a low wall (perhaps ten feet) of stone, stand two of the Citadel Guard. Around the Citadel Fountain (a later addition by the Elves. Standing a good fifteen feet tall, from base to the tip of the twain statues atop a podium. The statues are of a tall lord, of Númenor, before a kneeling man, of lesser height, but broader, resting a hand gently atop his head) stood four of the Fountain Guard, who were in like dress to that of the Citadel, save with rich blue cloaks, dark green tabards, and either blue or white stars set upon their brow in a fillet of bronze, with loftier helmets, and no shield. Their main weapon was a ten foot long oak spear, the blade of which was three feet long, with a guard bearing the emblem of their lord.
The Gate of Carn Dûm was a site to behold. Matching the height and breadth of the wall, which stood twenty feet high, and was wide enough to hold three Men standing abreast to walk along it. The Gates themselves were of dark, rich oak which lay so as that one layer was at a right angle of the other, for five layers, and had lengths of rich iron to reinforce them. Upon the top of the Gates read the following inscription, in the mode of Forvenlam:
So dorus bu rinn le Aranwë c'uime Arathadan
Moirear de Carn Dûm
In the Common tongue, it translates as thus:
These doors were made by Aranwë for Arathadan
Lord of Carn Dûm
Inlaid into this door was a pattern of Númenoréan and Elvish mixed together, creating a seemingly endless knot of lines, at the center of which rested a white gem, the same size as that of the one that surmounts the Citadel; highly polished and refined they both are, and when they catch the light of the morning or evening sun, they flare up like flames, blue upon the tower, white upon the Gate, and joined into this are the stars worn by the Fountain Guard, giving a visitor, indeed even one who lived in the city, a glimpse of not only of Númenor in it's height, but of many flames, ready to strike at those who would mean ill, and yet also serve as a beacon of hope.
The royal garb, for the everyday wear, of Arathadan is as follows:
Set upon his brow are twain stars of blue and white, set in a silver fillet, serving as the mark of his royal status. A tunic and hose of soft blue velvet, instead of the coarser wool or cotton favored by many. Tall boots he wore also, over which are greaves gilded with the image of a seabird's wing, the image going from knee to foot. Over the tunic was a hauberk of mail, made of beaten silver, which went to elbow and knee, and split at the groin for the riding of a horse, the edges of said hauberk in leather that had been stained white. Over his forearms went not full vambraces as he used to wear, but just a single plate bearing the image of gilded seabird's wings, the image going from elbow to wrist. Over the hauberk was a sleeveless tunic, made again of the soft velvet, but a soft, rich, dark gray, belted at the waist the his sword belt. Covering his hands were soft leather gloves, stained almost black. Secured upon his shoulders, by means of cloak clasps, was a silken cloak, sable in color, but decorated, in Númenoréan fashion, with faint lines of silver. The sword's scabbard was covered in leather, stained a deep blue to match the under-tunic, was worn at an angle to his body, to allow the ease of drawing for the five foot long weapon, the pommel and cross guard of silver, the hilt, (a single or doubled handed hilt, which ever is favored at the time) was wrapped in black leather, or rather the top half of it. The cross guard was of Númenoréan fashion, cross shaped, while the pommel was faintly inspired by Númenoréan design, bearing one white gem in the center. The sword was a fresh weapon, a gift from the Dwarves of the Ered Luin.
Being a Prince, Arathadan did not embellish his personal attire with gold, but instead chose silver, for it appealed to him more than the other, and would serve to distinguish him, for none others in his forces bore silver upon their dress or weapons, making him a noticeable rallying point. The fillet with the twain blue and white stars was, as mentioned, the mark of his royal status, and was a gift from the Elves, made by the hands of Aranwë himself.
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The Sun began to set as the work was completed on the last small details, ending nearly half a year of hard work and toil. The keys to the Citadel Tower were given to Belgil, Keeper of the Keys, and a farewell/thank- you/founding/welcoming feast was held.
Arathadan sat at the head table, sitting upon his left and right the guests of honour (Elves and Dwarves), while the rest of the tables were filled up with locals, the Dúnedain settlers (both North and South), and the Citadel and Fountain Guards. Despite the formality of the occasion, Arathadan insisted that all come in casual wear, for 'while this may be a feast that deserves such wear, there is no need, for we are amongst friends, and this feast is not a formal gathering.' So, with this said and followed, each Man, Elf, and Dwarf there were in their normal clothing.
As the hall began to fill, the lord Prince sent the order that the plates were to be filled with food of choice, and cups filled with drink. With Aranwë upon his right, and Osli upon his left, the lord Prince watched as the last of the peoples came in. With a smile upon his face, he stood, tapping the table top for silence, and the talk that had been going on slowly stopped.
"My good peoples, we are here today to say farewell and thank-you to the kind craftsmen who have assisted us in the endeavor of this project." A cheer went up, with the thumping of many fists upon tables before Arathadan raised his hand, bringing the hall to slow silence. "Also, I wish to thank the Northmen that have welcomed us here with open arms, allowing two branches of the old Edain houses to be united." Another cheer resounded through the hall, as did the thumping of the fists upon the tables, and again Arathadan held up his hand, bringing silence. "And so, with that in mind, let us toast them all with health, happiness, and good journeys ahead."
All in the hall stood, and raised their cups upon high as the lord Prince spoke. "To you, kind, gentle, and noble artisans, both Elf and Dwarf, we thank you for your aid and labor in this mighty task, and ask that you again visit us, or dare I venture, stay, if your lords allow it. To your health, happiness, and good journeys, wherever they bring you in the end." He then silently drained the wine in his cup, as did all those gathered, and motioned for the cups to be refilled.
Once that was done, he then turned to the tables of Northmen, and raised his glass. "To you, cousins however distant, me and my folk thank you for your kind acceptance of us, and your aid through this all. I will promise you the protection of the Lord Prince and Crown, as far as I am able to grant, and as you are my own folk now, I call you all kinsmen, though distant. We wish you health, happiness, and good journeys, wherever they may bring you in the end." He again brought the cup to his lips, and drained it, then sat down, to a chorus of clapping and shouts of varying sorts from 'thank-you ' to the craftsmen and artisans to 'Welcome, kinsmen!' from the Northmen. With a smile, Arathadan stood again, raising his hand for silence. "And now that those formalities are taken care of, let the feast begin!"
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Hey all. Here are me notes.
If any of those who read this speak and read Gaelic, and the words are not correct, I apologize, but it is as close as I can come. If you wish, you may email me corrections.
The Elves do of course love many gardens, and so this would be a main feature in any city they built. Look at Rivendell. Look at Lothlorien. The place is a garden.
The Citadel is mostly composed of gray rock from the Misty Mountains to the east of Carn Dûm, some two hundred miles away at that. The red stone is quarried from the foothills around the city, though as to why the majority of the stone work is not made of this is a simple reason: A city made of red stone can become tiring fast, but those made of gray rock is a norm, and is more pleasing on the eye. (I keep saying 'gray rock because it would be nearly impossible to guess what sort of rock it is. Consult The Atlas of Middle-earth by Karen Wynn Fonstad)
The Northmen are related to the Dúnedain, just as the Rohirrim are. Not all of the Three Houses of the Edain went west to settle Númenor. Some stayed in Middle-earth, as they did not wish to journey over the Sea.
Arathadan is addressed as 'Lord Prince' as a term of respect. Elessar uses 'my lord Prince' as a term of affection, just as he would call Baur or Faellor as 'my lord', or the other Princes as 'my Prince/my lord Prince'. The distinct difference between the two is 'my Lord Prince' is what those that serve and live under him are called (for instance, Tharni would refer to him as 'my Lord Prince'). 'My lord Prince' is a term of affection used by those of equal or higher footing. The artisans and craftsmen use it because while they do not serve him, they are under his orders until work is done.
Arathadan's clothing, while it may seem more combat oriented than needed, one must remember that Orcs, Trolls, and other creatures of Sauron are still in existence, and may attack. Upon high days, or high occasions, he would wear silken clothing, with no mail or any other armor, and no sword.
The reference to stars: They are not actual stars. They are gems, but are called stars.
There stood Elessar himself, bearing a torch with him. "My lord Prince, still at work?" He dismissed the bow and salute given by the other, and entered into the lore chamber, walking to the table, looking over the various open scrolls and tomes.
"Aye, lord, I am still at work. Would you happen to know the time?"
A smile came over the King's face. "Aye, I do. It happens to by after nightfall, Prince. Go, get ye to your rest, or, if you're not feeling too tired, the Captain of your Guard has asked me to ask you if you would speak with him. His name is Gimrunal, and he said he would be waiting for you outside the Citadel." With a nod, a salute, and a bow, the Prince exited from the chamber, and climbed the many stairs until he came to the main hall of the Tower of Ecthelion, from which he exited. Indeed, it was night, the moon riding high in the sky, and many stars alight. Walking across the courtyard, he walked down the path that led into the outthrust spur of rock that the city was built around, and found the aforementioned Captain Gimrunal.
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Faellor walked quietly in one of the gardens of Minas Anor, bedecked in his new livery. It felt strange to him to become prince of an old Elven land, to reside in the very city where the Rings of Power were made. The very city of which Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, grandson of Fëanor established the Elf city of Ost-in-Edhil, which he was to take as his chief city, to be rebuilt with the help of not only the Rivendell artisans, but with some help of the Dwarves of the Glittering Caves. Would be a strange combination to see, a city built not only by Elves, but also Dwarves. He looked to the sky, and saw the many stars, and the moon. Though, one star stood out amongst the others: the star of Eärendil, hero to both Men and Elves, for it was Eärendil, who pleaded to the Valar on behalf of the Two Kindreds at the end of the First Age, which brought the War of Wrath, and the banishment of Melkor Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, and which brought the raising of Númenor as a present to the faithful Edain.
The gardens were marvelous things, with many trees, birds, and flowers of all sorts, brought by the King's Elf friend, Legolas Greenleaf, who was now in Ithilien with some of his kin. Faellor spent some time in the different gardens before he finally returned to his room, and fell into a deep sleep.
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The other lords and princes did much the same for the next two weeks, Arathadan studying Angmarian, Faellor walking in the gardens, Aelbor studying maps of the Angle, to look for the ideal place for his capital, Dolgalad speaking with the locals, Brendel training with his Guard, and finally Baur doing the same. On the eve the fortnight was due to expire, Elessar gathered them all, and had them for a farewell feast in the Merethrond, or Hall of Feasts. The food was plenty and good, and after all was done; each stood to say their farewells to their king.
"My lord, I bid you farewell for the present until you come join us in the North." Spoke Aelbor first.
"My king, I bid you a long and prosperous reign." Dolgalad spoke this.
"Soraidh, mo righ." This was spoken by Arathadan, which rewarded him with a quizzical tilt of the head from Elessar. "It means 'Farewell, my king'." A nod. "Ah, I see the studying has paid off."
"Until you come to the North, my king." Baur spoke this after embracing the King, as would one kin.
"My lord, until you return to your homeland." This was spoken by Faellor.
"My liege, until you come to grace the north again." Brendel said this, as he bowed low, as each man did.
"Until then, my lords and princes, or sooner, as events decide. Now, hasten to Pelargir, and board your ships. Your princedoms await thy presence, as do your peoples. Hasten!"
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The ships sailed smoothly from their quays, and down the Anduin, their sails unfurling to catch the wind. The three ships carrying the Princes and their Guard carried two Princes and their Guard each, with the fourth carrying the horses for Arathadan and his Guard. The journey took several weeks, as opposed to the up to half a year as it would have over land. The ships gracefully glided into the quays at Tharbad as night fell, greeted by many persons. Among them were Elves, both of Lindon and of Rivendell, and Dwarves, both from the Ered Luin and from the Glittering Caves. Hundreds of them were gathered as the Princes and their Guards disembarked from the ships, and the horses brought.
"My lords and princes, I am Aranwë, chief Artisan of Rivendell. With me are what is left of me and my kind, and those of Lindon, three hundreds in all. I can afford to send fifty with each of you." This was spoken by a tall Elf, dressed in the manner of his kind, in gentle blues and grays. "My lords, I am Gurmid, of the Ered Luin. I bring with me five hundred of my kin. I can give each of you eighty-three of my brethren for your services." A Dwarf spoke this, like to most other Dwarves, with rich garments and armor on, with a brown beard that had many jewels at the end of braided twines. "And I, my lords, am Frignar, assistant master artisan of the Glittering Caves. I, however, bring less of my kin, only one hundred in all. Sixteen is what I can give to each of you, myself included." This was spoken by another Dwarf, like in dress to the others, though to a less decadent degree than Gurmid.
Aelbor nodded. "Good, very good. Well, if your peoples would disperse, and pick a lord or prince of their liking, we shall swiftly be on our way."
With this settled, the large group of artisans and craftsmen broke up, going this way and that, choosing a lord or prince based on where they intend to build their cities. Only the heartiest of each race would go with Arathadan to Carn Dûm, which still bore an evil name. Of this, Noldorin Elves where those of that kindred to go, and as for the Dwarves, only the heartiest. Borrowing many horses from the local people, with promise of their return, Arathadan led his company away north, shouting parting words to the rest, riding a quick pace. The others soon left in turn, Dolgalad staying in Tharbad, which he intended to make his city. Faellor left southeastward for a bit with his company before turning north, to cross the Glanduin, upon which the other side rested Ost-in-Edhil.
Aelbor left northwards, to take the Greenway to Bree, then along the Great East Road. Baur followed Aelbor's company, with the intent on breaking off from them when they reached Weathertop. Brendel simply strode off with his company northwards, towards the far distant South Downs.
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Dolgalad watched as the others departed, then turned to those that had remained, not to mention the local townsfolk. "Tharbad shall be rebuilt by the skill and craft of these gracious Elves and Dwarves. I shall take this city as my chair. Let us start the work."
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Several months past before letters started trickling down to Elessar from the North, brought to him sometimes up to a month apart. He first received word from Dolgalad, who had established himself in Tharbad. He described the city in his letter as 'looking quite beautiful, yet strong at the same. Many gardens and trees line the roads and courtyards, while the roads, buildings, walls, and quays are made from the best stone, and the best ability of the Dwarves. Strong, and yet fragile.'
He next received word from Faellor. 'My liege, I have restored Ost-in-Edhil, to beyond its former glory from what many of the Noldorin Elves tell. Strong walls, houses, and roads were built by the Dwarves, not to mention mine own Citadel, though, in all that cold stone there are many gardens, bearing many trees, plants, and songbirds. The fact that the river Glanduin runs close makes this place much more.Elvish. In front of my Citadel stands a fountain, with a likeness of a tall Elf lord, and an equally tall Númenoréan lord.beautiful.'
From Brendel came next word. 'My king, my city of Ost- in-Annuunin (City of the Westernesse) is a sight to behold. Sitting in the South Downs, the Elves have taken the natural beauty of this land, and seemingly to place it all in this city, whilst the Dwarves have made strong works of stone, my Citadel is a sight to behold amongst their works."
The letter of Aelbor arrived next. 'My liege lord, I have constructed my city, Birthombar (a name given to me by the Elves. Some said it looked like that city of ancient times) at the point where the Mitheithel and the Bruinen meet. Many gardens, many green and living things in this city, and strong buildings made by the Dwarves.'
Next, word came from Baur. 'My lord, I have rebuilt Weathertop, and have placed mine city, Ondosto, in the middle of the Weather Hills. As I am sure the others have told you, there are many gardens here, but I chose the name because of the majority of stone buildings and works of the Dwarves, and also that mine folk came from the same township of Númenor before the foundering.'
Lastly, he received word from Arathadan. 'Greetings, my king. Carn Dûm has been rebuilt, and is indeed a much better place for it, and your kingship was right: the majority of the folk here speak the dead language of Angmarian, but I have resurrected it and given it a new name: Forvenlam, or North Tongue in Sindarin. The city is full of gardens and works of stone, beautifully integrated. If one was not careful, one could rest again a stone tree, taking it for a real one, and yet be astonished of how smooth the stone is, like young bark.'
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As winter set in, Arathadan watched as the final tasks of the artisans were taking place, mainly with the Gate of Carn Dûm, and the Citadel. The work was being sped up because of the soon coming of winter, which might fall hard upon those here, being in the far north after all, just south of the Northern Wastes.
To his great surprise, the local folk did not try to kill him or his Guard, but instead welcomed them with open arms, taking him as their lord. The folk were hardy and skilled in the ways of this land, leading the artisans to what materials they required, and many volunteered their service for the garrison, and were greatly accepted by the lord Prince Arathadan. One of the local Men here, by the name of Tharni, was very friendly with the lord Prince, and was indeed made Captain of the Garrison. Tharni was a man of short and broad stature, like many of those here in the north, standing at perhaps just over five and one half feet. With a pale complexion, and with brown hair and eyes, he was the leader of one of the many local tribes, and rumor was told that he was a fell opponent in battle, and that Orcs and other foul things stayed clear of the lands in which his tribe resided.
The Citadel was to be perhaps the first accomplished. Made of the stone from the foothills and from the mountains in the distance, it was all constructed from the gray stone quarried from the Misty Mountains, save for the top third of the tower, which was constructed of the red stone of the foothills, and at its pinnacle flew not only the banner of the lord Prince, but at the very tip was a blue gem, comparable in size to that of what is commonly used in the centerpiece of necklaces. The doors of the tower were of a rich, darkly stained oak, engraved with a relief of the Meneltarma, inlaid with silver, and the top of the peak with gold. The windows were covered upon the inside by velvet shades of dark, rich greens and blues. The Gate of the Citadel was of stone, with numerous Númenoréan tracings upon them, bringing up the images of birds, trees, and plants not of Middle-earth. Upon the inside of the door, indeed the whole Citadel is circled by a low wall (perhaps ten feet) of stone, stand two of the Citadel Guard. Around the Citadel Fountain (a later addition by the Elves. Standing a good fifteen feet tall, from base to the tip of the twain statues atop a podium. The statues are of a tall lord, of Númenor, before a kneeling man, of lesser height, but broader, resting a hand gently atop his head) stood four of the Fountain Guard, who were in like dress to that of the Citadel, save with rich blue cloaks, dark green tabards, and either blue or white stars set upon their brow in a fillet of bronze, with loftier helmets, and no shield. Their main weapon was a ten foot long oak spear, the blade of which was three feet long, with a guard bearing the emblem of their lord.
The Gate of Carn Dûm was a site to behold. Matching the height and breadth of the wall, which stood twenty feet high, and was wide enough to hold three Men standing abreast to walk along it. The Gates themselves were of dark, rich oak which lay so as that one layer was at a right angle of the other, for five layers, and had lengths of rich iron to reinforce them. Upon the top of the Gates read the following inscription, in the mode of Forvenlam:
So dorus bu rinn le Aranwë c'uime Arathadan
Moirear de Carn Dûm
In the Common tongue, it translates as thus:
These doors were made by Aranwë for Arathadan
Lord of Carn Dûm
Inlaid into this door was a pattern of Númenoréan and Elvish mixed together, creating a seemingly endless knot of lines, at the center of which rested a white gem, the same size as that of the one that surmounts the Citadel; highly polished and refined they both are, and when they catch the light of the morning or evening sun, they flare up like flames, blue upon the tower, white upon the Gate, and joined into this are the stars worn by the Fountain Guard, giving a visitor, indeed even one who lived in the city, a glimpse of not only of Númenor in it's height, but of many flames, ready to strike at those who would mean ill, and yet also serve as a beacon of hope.
The royal garb, for the everyday wear, of Arathadan is as follows:
Set upon his brow are twain stars of blue and white, set in a silver fillet, serving as the mark of his royal status. A tunic and hose of soft blue velvet, instead of the coarser wool or cotton favored by many. Tall boots he wore also, over which are greaves gilded with the image of a seabird's wing, the image going from knee to foot. Over the tunic was a hauberk of mail, made of beaten silver, which went to elbow and knee, and split at the groin for the riding of a horse, the edges of said hauberk in leather that had been stained white. Over his forearms went not full vambraces as he used to wear, but just a single plate bearing the image of gilded seabird's wings, the image going from elbow to wrist. Over the hauberk was a sleeveless tunic, made again of the soft velvet, but a soft, rich, dark gray, belted at the waist the his sword belt. Covering his hands were soft leather gloves, stained almost black. Secured upon his shoulders, by means of cloak clasps, was a silken cloak, sable in color, but decorated, in Númenoréan fashion, with faint lines of silver. The sword's scabbard was covered in leather, stained a deep blue to match the under-tunic, was worn at an angle to his body, to allow the ease of drawing for the five foot long weapon, the pommel and cross guard of silver, the hilt, (a single or doubled handed hilt, which ever is favored at the time) was wrapped in black leather, or rather the top half of it. The cross guard was of Númenoréan fashion, cross shaped, while the pommel was faintly inspired by Númenoréan design, bearing one white gem in the center. The sword was a fresh weapon, a gift from the Dwarves of the Ered Luin.
Being a Prince, Arathadan did not embellish his personal attire with gold, but instead chose silver, for it appealed to him more than the other, and would serve to distinguish him, for none others in his forces bore silver upon their dress or weapons, making him a noticeable rallying point. The fillet with the twain blue and white stars was, as mentioned, the mark of his royal status, and was a gift from the Elves, made by the hands of Aranwë himself.
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The Sun began to set as the work was completed on the last small details, ending nearly half a year of hard work and toil. The keys to the Citadel Tower were given to Belgil, Keeper of the Keys, and a farewell/thank- you/founding/welcoming feast was held.
Arathadan sat at the head table, sitting upon his left and right the guests of honour (Elves and Dwarves), while the rest of the tables were filled up with locals, the Dúnedain settlers (both North and South), and the Citadel and Fountain Guards. Despite the formality of the occasion, Arathadan insisted that all come in casual wear, for 'while this may be a feast that deserves such wear, there is no need, for we are amongst friends, and this feast is not a formal gathering.' So, with this said and followed, each Man, Elf, and Dwarf there were in their normal clothing.
As the hall began to fill, the lord Prince sent the order that the plates were to be filled with food of choice, and cups filled with drink. With Aranwë upon his right, and Osli upon his left, the lord Prince watched as the last of the peoples came in. With a smile upon his face, he stood, tapping the table top for silence, and the talk that had been going on slowly stopped.
"My good peoples, we are here today to say farewell and thank-you to the kind craftsmen who have assisted us in the endeavor of this project." A cheer went up, with the thumping of many fists upon tables before Arathadan raised his hand, bringing the hall to slow silence. "Also, I wish to thank the Northmen that have welcomed us here with open arms, allowing two branches of the old Edain houses to be united." Another cheer resounded through the hall, as did the thumping of the fists upon the tables, and again Arathadan held up his hand, bringing silence. "And so, with that in mind, let us toast them all with health, happiness, and good journeys ahead."
All in the hall stood, and raised their cups upon high as the lord Prince spoke. "To you, kind, gentle, and noble artisans, both Elf and Dwarf, we thank you for your aid and labor in this mighty task, and ask that you again visit us, or dare I venture, stay, if your lords allow it. To your health, happiness, and good journeys, wherever they bring you in the end." He then silently drained the wine in his cup, as did all those gathered, and motioned for the cups to be refilled.
Once that was done, he then turned to the tables of Northmen, and raised his glass. "To you, cousins however distant, me and my folk thank you for your kind acceptance of us, and your aid through this all. I will promise you the protection of the Lord Prince and Crown, as far as I am able to grant, and as you are my own folk now, I call you all kinsmen, though distant. We wish you health, happiness, and good journeys, wherever they may bring you in the end." He again brought the cup to his lips, and drained it, then sat down, to a chorus of clapping and shouts of varying sorts from 'thank-you ' to the craftsmen and artisans to 'Welcome, kinsmen!' from the Northmen. With a smile, Arathadan stood again, raising his hand for silence. "And now that those formalities are taken care of, let the feast begin!"
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Hey all. Here are me notes.
If any of those who read this speak and read Gaelic, and the words are not correct, I apologize, but it is as close as I can come. If you wish, you may email me corrections.
The Elves do of course love many gardens, and so this would be a main feature in any city they built. Look at Rivendell. Look at Lothlorien. The place is a garden.
The Citadel is mostly composed of gray rock from the Misty Mountains to the east of Carn Dûm, some two hundred miles away at that. The red stone is quarried from the foothills around the city, though as to why the majority of the stone work is not made of this is a simple reason: A city made of red stone can become tiring fast, but those made of gray rock is a norm, and is more pleasing on the eye. (I keep saying 'gray rock because it would be nearly impossible to guess what sort of rock it is. Consult The Atlas of Middle-earth by Karen Wynn Fonstad)
The Northmen are related to the Dúnedain, just as the Rohirrim are. Not all of the Three Houses of the Edain went west to settle Númenor. Some stayed in Middle-earth, as they did not wish to journey over the Sea.
Arathadan is addressed as 'Lord Prince' as a term of respect. Elessar uses 'my lord Prince' as a term of affection, just as he would call Baur or Faellor as 'my lord', or the other Princes as 'my Prince/my lord Prince'. The distinct difference between the two is 'my Lord Prince' is what those that serve and live under him are called (for instance, Tharni would refer to him as 'my Lord Prince'). 'My lord Prince' is a term of affection used by those of equal or higher footing. The artisans and craftsmen use it because while they do not serve him, they are under his orders until work is done.
Arathadan's clothing, while it may seem more combat oriented than needed, one must remember that Orcs, Trolls, and other creatures of Sauron are still in existence, and may attack. Upon high days, or high occasions, he would wear silken clothing, with no mail or any other armor, and no sword.
The reference to stars: They are not actual stars. They are gems, but are called stars.