Author's Notes: In case you're confused, the story has returned to where it went back into the past: Third Age 2500.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien with the exception of original characters needed to fill out Legolas' family tree or move the story along. Translations of Elvish words (Sindarin, unless otherwise stated) and additional notes are found at the end of the chapter.
The Men of Dale
Many years before Smaug awoke, the town of Dale prospered, benefiting from the wealth of the dwarves in the Ered Mithrin, the expensive tastes of the Elvenking and the town's proximity to the river systems of the Wilderland. Like the people of Folcagard, the inhabitants of Dale came originally from the Marachrim, but their location had exposed their blood to more mingling. Númenórean adventurers had come in the Second Age, and Adûnaic had supplanted their native tongue. In these days, Dale spoke Westron. Most of its folk could read and write, and the traveling elves who served as troubadours to Middle-Earth found an appreciative audience in Dale - the people had money to spend and the leisure time to enjoy the arts of the elves. [1, 2]
While his brother and cousin discussed the day's plans with the guard accompanying them, Legolas looked about the bustling town square, fascinated by the strange folk. The elves' arrival in Dale coincided with market day, and many of the smaller merchants had set up tables with their wares. Mortal men, tall as elves, yet more muscular, clumsy and coarse of feature, predominated, but in the crowd he also saw many dwarves, broad and stocky, with long beards and laden with heavy packs. A few of the peddlers had a strange look, their features sallow and twisted, as if orcs sullied their line. They had unpleasant demeanors, and the men who served the Lord of Dale would keep a close eye on these fellows until they slunk back to their wretched homes in the hills.
"Legolas, cease your dreaming, lest you be lost in the crowd!"
Legolas turned around to find that their guard had gone to the tasks assigned to them, and Innolas and Mitharas alone remained. "I was not dreaming, only looking," he insisted.
The younger elf followed his kin into the dry goods store. Here they found a long line of dwarves, and Mitharas grew impatient, for they needed only to leave Galion's order. "Soon they'll be asking the merchant to count out every bean," the elf complained. "Nibenhoth dheleb!" he added derisively. [3]
"Mitharas, yrn nith 'erir laiss ledin," Innolas murmured, nodding toward his brother. In truth, he worried more that a dwarf would overhear his cousin's scathing commentary. He had no love for the Nogothrim himself, but often wished that his cousin and father would be more prudent in their dealings with the dwarves. [4, 5]
They were ever at odds with this stubborn people over tolls on the Celduin and Forest rivers. The elves maintained their right to collect such sums in exchange for keeping the river unmolested by orcs and other enemies; the dwarves refused to recognize Thranduil's claim to the portions of the rivers passing through his realm. A neutral party might sympathize with the elves, but the tolls exacted upon the dwarves were often much higher than those charged of others using the rivers.
From the dry goods store, they went to the wine merchant's shop. To Innolas' relief, they encountered none of the short, sturdy folk here, for dwarves prefer ale. After a few more errands, they parted ways, as Innolas had business with the Lord of Dale. Mitharas and Legolas went to the inn to join the elven guard and secure lodgings for the night. There, shortly after Anor retired for the night, Innolas met them for supper.
The elves' sensitive ears fairly rang with the noise of the busy tavern, lively with talk of Easterlings. Traders from the Vale of Anduin reported raids on their villages, and merchants from Dorwinion told of ambushes along the Celduin. "Is it not enough that we are pressed by orcs from the mountains?" one man complained.
"We had some of this folk in Dale last week," the serving maid told the elves. "A rowdy bunch, and our men had to throw them out lest the place be broken up."
"Strange, but we have seen none of these men on the Forest River," Mitharas noted.
"Aye, they'll avoid ye elves. They know his people are likely to end in your King's dungeons." The woman made a sign to ward off evil as she spoke.
Legolas wished he had a better understanding of the Westron tongue. "What are Easterlings?" he asked, pronouncing the unfamiliar word carefully.
"They are foul men from the lands south of the forest," Mitharas explained. "They have allied themselves with Sauron in the past."
"It is a bad sign that they are troubling good people again," Innolas observed. "You had best make certain our borders are well-guarded."
His cousin nodded. "They are cowardly in small groups, but in alliance with orcs…," he broke off, remembering his young cousin. "Legolas, quit dawdling."
The great variety of folk taking their supper at the tavern had so engrossed the young elf that he had quite forgotten to eat his own meal. With the unjaded heart of youth and the curiosity of his race, Legolas never ceased to find wonderment in the novelties of Dale. At a long table sat a party of dwarves, evidently well into their cups. Though loud and boisterous, they gave the serving maid no trouble, treating her with reverent courtesy. Some of the unwholesome peddlers had come to throw their day's take after drink, and small bargain they had in this, for the tavern-keeper watered their ale. He wanted no trouble this night, not when his inn hosted such guests as the wealthy dwarves of Ered Mithrin and the scions of Northern Mirkwood's king. Such visitors were his lifeblood.
They were good folk, these people of Dale. Their Lord was a wise man, who listened to the wisdom of King Náin II and King Thranduil, and Sauron's minions found his ear unfavorable. His people had few complaints, and had small love for those who would promote rebellion and disorder; such things spoiled commerce. If they had a fault, it lay in unwariness, for the memories of men could not recall the dark times before the Watchful Peace. Too late would they see that a few rowdies from the south held not the greatest threat to their industrious content.
Amid the raucous good cheer of the tavern, two men sat at the bar, quiet and detached. Other men paid them no mind, but an elf's perception picked them out at once, for their very silence and unremarkable conduct seemed out of place. "Who are those men?" Legolas asked his cousin, who had nodded to them in greeting when they arrived at the tavern.
"They are Dúnedain of the North," Mitharas said in a low voice. The captain of Thranduil's guard knew no one of them well, but spoke often with their kind. Their travels and watchfulness alerted them early to ill stirrings in the Wilderland and beyond, and Mitharas knew they had come to Dale with cause. He would seek out these men later, to know what tidings they had of the Easterlings.
Most of the other patrons of the tavern had dispersed to their lodgings or their homes when the elves went to their rooms. "Curse the dwarves and their heavy feet!" Mitharas complained, glaring at the ceiling. "Their snoring could wake elves in Mithlond. What ill luck to have them over us - we shall have no rest tonight."
In fact, the two older elves passed easily into their dreamscapes. Sleep came less easily to Legolas. It seemed to him that much evil returned to the world. Scouts reported spider webs - the enormous webs of the yngol - near the Enchanted River. Orcs troubled the Woodmen and travelers crossing the Misty Mountains. For the first time, Legolas appreciated the constant vigilance required of Mitharas and his guard to hold these dangers at bay within Thranduil's realm. [6]
With such uneasy thoughts, the young elf found troubled dreams that night.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien with the exception of original characters needed to fill out Legolas' family tree or move the story along. Translations of Elvish words (Sindarin, unless otherwise stated) and additional notes are found at the end of the chapter.
While his brother and cousin discussed the day's plans with the guard accompanying them, Legolas looked about the bustling town square, fascinated by the strange folk. The elves' arrival in Dale coincided with market day, and many of the smaller merchants had set up tables with their wares. Mortal men, tall as elves, yet more muscular, clumsy and coarse of feature, predominated, but in the crowd he also saw many dwarves, broad and stocky, with long beards and laden with heavy packs. A few of the peddlers had a strange look, their features sallow and twisted, as if orcs sullied their line. They had unpleasant demeanors, and the men who served the Lord of Dale would keep a close eye on these fellows until they slunk back to their wretched homes in the hills.
"Legolas, cease your dreaming, lest you be lost in the crowd!"
Legolas turned around to find that their guard had gone to the tasks assigned to them, and Innolas and Mitharas alone remained. "I was not dreaming, only looking," he insisted.
The younger elf followed his kin into the dry goods store. Here they found a long line of dwarves, and Mitharas grew impatient, for they needed only to leave Galion's order. "Soon they'll be asking the merchant to count out every bean," the elf complained. "Nibenhoth dheleb!" he added derisively. [3]
"Mitharas, yrn nith 'erir laiss ledin," Innolas murmured, nodding toward his brother. In truth, he worried more that a dwarf would overhear his cousin's scathing commentary. He had no love for the Nogothrim himself, but often wished that his cousin and father would be more prudent in their dealings with the dwarves. [4, 5]
They were ever at odds with this stubborn people over tolls on the Celduin and Forest rivers. The elves maintained their right to collect such sums in exchange for keeping the river unmolested by orcs and other enemies; the dwarves refused to recognize Thranduil's claim to the portions of the rivers passing through his realm. A neutral party might sympathize with the elves, but the tolls exacted upon the dwarves were often much higher than those charged of others using the rivers.
From the dry goods store, they went to the wine merchant's shop. To Innolas' relief, they encountered none of the short, sturdy folk here, for dwarves prefer ale. After a few more errands, they parted ways, as Innolas had business with the Lord of Dale. Mitharas and Legolas went to the inn to join the elven guard and secure lodgings for the night. There, shortly after Anor retired for the night, Innolas met them for supper.
The elves' sensitive ears fairly rang with the noise of the busy tavern, lively with talk of Easterlings. Traders from the Vale of Anduin reported raids on their villages, and merchants from Dorwinion told of ambushes along the Celduin. "Is it not enough that we are pressed by orcs from the mountains?" one man complained.
"We had some of this folk in Dale last week," the serving maid told the elves. "A rowdy bunch, and our men had to throw them out lest the place be broken up."
"Strange, but we have seen none of these men on the Forest River," Mitharas noted.
"Aye, they'll avoid ye elves. They know his people are likely to end in your King's dungeons." The woman made a sign to ward off evil as she spoke.
Legolas wished he had a better understanding of the Westron tongue. "What are Easterlings?" he asked, pronouncing the unfamiliar word carefully.
"They are foul men from the lands south of the forest," Mitharas explained. "They have allied themselves with Sauron in the past."
"It is a bad sign that they are troubling good people again," Innolas observed. "You had best make certain our borders are well-guarded."
His cousin nodded. "They are cowardly in small groups, but in alliance with orcs…," he broke off, remembering his young cousin. "Legolas, quit dawdling."
The great variety of folk taking their supper at the tavern had so engrossed the young elf that he had quite forgotten to eat his own meal. With the unjaded heart of youth and the curiosity of his race, Legolas never ceased to find wonderment in the novelties of Dale. At a long table sat a party of dwarves, evidently well into their cups. Though loud and boisterous, they gave the serving maid no trouble, treating her with reverent courtesy. Some of the unwholesome peddlers had come to throw their day's take after drink, and small bargain they had in this, for the tavern-keeper watered their ale. He wanted no trouble this night, not when his inn hosted such guests as the wealthy dwarves of Ered Mithrin and the scions of Northern Mirkwood's king. Such visitors were his lifeblood.
They were good folk, these people of Dale. Their Lord was a wise man, who listened to the wisdom of King Náin II and King Thranduil, and Sauron's minions found his ear unfavorable. His people had few complaints, and had small love for those who would promote rebellion and disorder; such things spoiled commerce. If they had a fault, it lay in unwariness, for the memories of men could not recall the dark times before the Watchful Peace. Too late would they see that a few rowdies from the south held not the greatest threat to their industrious content.
Amid the raucous good cheer of the tavern, two men sat at the bar, quiet and detached. Other men paid them no mind, but an elf's perception picked them out at once, for their very silence and unremarkable conduct seemed out of place. "Who are those men?" Legolas asked his cousin, who had nodded to them in greeting when they arrived at the tavern.
"They are Dúnedain of the North," Mitharas said in a low voice. The captain of Thranduil's guard knew no one of them well, but spoke often with their kind. Their travels and watchfulness alerted them early to ill stirrings in the Wilderland and beyond, and Mitharas knew they had come to Dale with cause. He would seek out these men later, to know what tidings they had of the Easterlings.
Most of the other patrons of the tavern had dispersed to their lodgings or their homes when the elves went to their rooms. "Curse the dwarves and their heavy feet!" Mitharas complained, glaring at the ceiling. "Their snoring could wake elves in Mithlond. What ill luck to have them over us - we shall have no rest tonight."
In fact, the two older elves passed easily into their dreamscapes. Sleep came less easily to Legolas. It seemed to him that much evil returned to the world. Scouts reported spider webs - the enormous webs of the yngol - near the Enchanted River. Orcs troubled the Woodmen and travelers crossing the Misty Mountains. For the first time, Legolas appreciated the constant vigilance required of Mitharas and his guard to hold these dangers at bay within Thranduil's realm. [6]
With such uneasy thoughts, the young elf found troubled dreams that night.
- [1] 'dwarves in the Ered Mithrin'
- The dwarves left Erebor in 2210 and did not return until a dragon (not Smaug) attacked and killed Dáin I in 2589. However, they probably maintained some association with Dale, particularly as their nearest mortal neighbors, the Eothéod, were not particularly fond of dwarves. (ref. LOTR, 'Appendix A')
- [2] 'the traveling elves who served as troubadours to Middle-Earth'
- In 'The magic of the minstrels' (s that elves may have served as the wandering entertainment troupes of Middle-Earth, much like the bards of Europe's Middle Ages - Gildor's group, met by Frodo and Sam, may have been one such band.
- [3] Nibenhoth dheleb!
- Loathsome petty-folk!
- [4] yrn nith 'erir laiss ledin
- 'young trees have open leaves' (aka 'little pitchers have big ears')
- [5] Nogothrim
- Dwarf-folk (lit. 'stunted folk', not a particularly politically correct word for dwarves)
- [6] yngol
- spiders. The plural form of ungol is not attested, but if it follows the pattern of other words that developed an o in the ending -gl from Old Sindarin, the o does not change in the plural.