Synopsis: At the end of the Third Age, the Dark Lord Sauron was defeated. Peace has come to regain the lands of Middle-earth. Yet when the Chain of Angainor has been broken again, that peace is shattered as the First Evil escapes from the Void and unleashes a dark power over the world not even Sauron could have mastered. [This piece of fiction is set way off into the future when the legends of great kings and mysterious peoples are long forgotten]
Disclaimer: Almost all characters, places, songs, and descriptions belong to J.R.R. Tolkien with respect to this particular story. The only things that belong to the fan fiction author are the story's plot and some people who will figure very much in the narrative.
Author's Note: The story is post-LotR. However, several characters (as well as things, places, and oral histories [Middle-earth legends by the Elves]) involved in the story appear in The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales by J.R.R. Tolkien. The author of this fan fiction has tried to give some insight and background on these characters through their experiences along the way, as according to how they are portrayed in the aforementioned books. Therefore, there is no colloquial or slang English language on the part of these characters, no fluff, no overt religious tones, no allegories, no character crossovers from other books, TV shows, films, cartoons, and comic strips (i.e. Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) and definitely NO, NO, NO, NO, and NO slash and male pregnancies. [For those who love reading such stuff, the story is probably going to bore you to death but the author would appreciate it if you just take a look.] If there are any suggestions, errata made, or comments, please inform the author through a review. Thank you.
Rating: PG
From splendour he fell through arrogance to contempt for all things save himself, a spirit wasteful and pitiless. Understanding he turned to subtlety in perverting to his own will all that he would use, until he became a liar without shame. He began with the desire of Light, but when he could not possess it for himself alone, he descended through fire and wrath into a great burning, down into Darkness. And darkness he used most in his evil works upon Arda, and filled it with fear for all living things.
---Valaquenta, The Silmarillion()The Breaking of Angainor
The wisdom of the world has grown ancient, recoiling in its past as its future comes at hand. Old legends are forgotten, great kings and people sought out in books of fiction. Men have now mastery over nature, their hands clasped about its neck and draining its life away.
Conundrums, contraptions, mechanizations. This is the world of Men.
How it came to be so could not be explained. It is the continuation of a life left to flourish or perish at the hands of its caretaker, now the mortal beings called the human race. Of the glorious stories of the past none is remembered for time passes so carefully, leaving no trace of its path in the memory of the living.
Unbeknownst to Men, in a far away land yet not quite removed from the world, there still dwelt they who have been set aside for earthly things. It is a place where the past is as the future is as the present. Time is woven there in intricate threads. It is where beauty never fades and life does not end. The halls are bathed in pure light and the air is eternally soft and fresh. Springs burst forth alive like fountains dancing along to the sound of the birds who flutter too close to the blades of grass.
Paradise. The Blessed Realm. Aman, the place of Valinor. The Land of the Valar and the Eldar.
In the midst of its beauty, there lay a small clearing, hidden by the trees. There stood the tall figure of a woman, her long golden hair touching the grass. Her eyes are turned to the East. She breathed in deeply. At that moment, the skies darkened, if for a while, as if a passing cloud had decided to tarry a while longer. To an ordinary being in an ordinary land, the lingering of a cloud of darkness is not something to worry about.
She opened her eyes, revealing deep pools of blue light.
Long have I known such darkness in ages past. It cannot be. Earendil…
The world has clearly changed. Two men walked side by side by the shores of Aman, looking out far out into the Sea. The cry of the seagulls wailed in their ears as small waves washed onto their bare feet. They stopped walking and looked far out to sea, their eyes intent upon the glittering point of Mindon Eldalieva, the Tower of Ingwe, the guide of ships and seafarers.
"The world has clearly changed," said one of the men. He had dark hair and a proud bearing. There was an aged look in his eyes when one sought to look in them and find only great knowledge of many things. A single jewel was set upon his brow and one knew, just by looking, that he was among the greatest of his kind.
"I have begun to feel it weighing heavier for many centuries," answered his companion. In truth, he was not like the other. He shone with a radiance that was not of the world. His eyes twinkled when he spoke and his voice was like music to the ear. Often did he go to the house of Nienna, the Valieri of whom he learned much from. Patience, kindness, fortitude, and wisdom.
"It is ending," said the dark one.
His companion nodded sadly. He looked out over the sea, far beyond Mindon in Tol Eressea, and grief overcame him. He had loved that land and its people. He had loved his friends, all of whom were gone now save for a few. But those who mattered so much more would no longer be with him, lest Mandos and Eru Iluvatar permit it to not be so.
"The world is old, much older than us. Still I do not wish for it to end before my spirit does."
He closed his eyes and decided to let go of his grief, to listen to the waves and the cry of the seagulls. All he heard was the sound of thunder and fire. He opened his eyes immediately as he felt what he heard touch his skin. It had felt real as a huge dark cloud passed over them from the far west traveling towards the east and obliterating the view of Tol Eressea.
The dark one with him froze. "What is this, Olorin?"
"I dare know not."
Far beyond the clearing where the solitary woman stood was a clear spring. It spurt forth out of the ground and flowed forward, growing as it reached the east shore, ending upon the edges of the Sea and becoming one with the great body of water. Wherever the spring passed, the flowers grew best. Whoever drank of its water was replenished and made glad. For it was first blessed by Yavanna, the Mother of all Trees and Queen of the Earth, and watched over by her sister, Vana, the Ever-Young.
At the mouth of the spring sat a single being, alone in his thoughts. Like the woman, he had always looked to the east, as if expecting someone to come but he had grown tired of waiting for what was not to come again. It made him sad and desolate, such that the beauty of Valinor no longer gave him peace and serenity. He had been outside Valinor once. He was born there and it was the life he knew before greater things came into light for him. He had been part of that greatest of adventures and knew good friends. But one of them he loved the most and now, after ages past, was lost forever.
Suddenly, a cold feeling of biting cold seeped through his being as a mighty cloud passed over the land. He stood up in surprise. What could be a dark cloud doing in the Land of the Lords of the West?
The spring seemed to have stopped flowing. The birds stopped singing and Time stood very still over the land. Some of the Eldar began talking in hushed tones. Then he saw the Golden Lady walking towards Valinor, her face set in a rigid pose. Several of the Eldar followed after her. No one ever goes into the Realm of the Gods, he thought. Something is happening.
A hand lay upon his shoulder as his blue eyes followed the cloud disappearing into the east. A cold, unspeakable dread washed over him.
"What is happening, Gandalf?" he asked.
His last remaining friend said gravely, "Let us make haste for the Mahanaxar, Legolas, for Angainor has been broken. Morgoth Bauglir has been set loose into the World."
"Hm, glad you made it back home," her mother said, her eyes focused on the newspaper. Lucy Dior sighed heavily as she dropped her bag and books on the kitchen counter and headed off to pilfer the refrigerator for food. She found a leftover slice of blueberry cheesecake and began to eat it with her fingers.
"That's not hygienic," her mother said, again not looking at her. Lucy rolled her eyes and gobbled down the whole cheesecake, deposited the plate in the sink, and went upstairs to her room with her books. As she walked down the hall, she quickened her pace a bit by the third door to her right. She would not look at it and pretended that there was no door.
"Hey! Where have you been?" her older brother, Aaron, asked. He popped out from the bathroom. "I waited for you at the gym today---"
"You know that I won't ever step inside the same square feet of area as Thomas Jameson," Lucy muttered angrily, shoving against Aaron and bounding into her room. Aaron went to her door and smirked at her.
"Look, Tom was just probably drunk, that's all!"
Lucy turned to glare at her brother who backed away a considerable number of steps. "Aaron, he said it to my face and in front of the entire school, too!"
Aaron's eyebrows shot up. "I thought you didn't give a care what other people thought about you!"
"No, I don't! But he said I was a freak just to be insulting and look all cool!" Lucy yelled. "I don't believe this! Aren't you supposed to be my big brother! Why aren't you protecting me or something?"
"Yes! But, Lucy! That was a joke! You're being irrational---"
"You coward! Aaron, get out of my room before I do something that will make you want to forget we were blood relations!"
So, Aaron went out, shaking his head. Lucy slammed the door shut and locked it. Next, she opened a book, which was a huge mistake. A note fell out with huge, red words scrawled on it that said: THE DARK LADY COMETH AND HER NAME IS LUTHIEN… OR IS IT LU-SER?
"Crap," Lucy grumbled. She crumpled the note and threw it inside the trashcan. She saw her reflection on the long mirror and sighed heavily. What exactly made her qualify for a loser? Was it the jet-black short-cropped hair that made her look like a boy? Was it the paleness of her skin that made people think she was a vampire? Was it because her fashion sense spelled "comfy" and not "trendy"? Was it because she was a bit on the clumsy side? Was it because she hated speaking in front of a large crowd and ended up fainting during her Speech class? Was it because her name sounded weird and that her father…
Then, she dropped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She wanted to close her eyes and she felt so tired but she was afraid that if she could not see anything, something bad might happen. Bad things happen enough when her eyes were open. What more if they were closed and she were clueless? But exhaustion and school stress overtook her. Lucy's eyes closed softly and then…
It was pitch black. Well, almost. It was almost gray, like a really old film playing right before Lucy's eyes. Things began to take shape. A desk. A bundle of papers. Crumpled ones on the floor. A swiveling chair. Stacks of books by the foot of the table. Wide open windows and billowing curtains.
The room looked familiar. Daddy's study.
At the back of her mind, Lucy knew it was just a dream. There was nothing to be afraid of. It will be over soon if she just wakes up.
But she would not wake up, no matter how hard she tried to think of doing so. There was still the empty room.
All of a sudden, her father appeared by the desk. He seemed to be scribbling down something on a piece of paper. He was in a hurry. He was making impatient noises in his throat and Lucy could see beads of sweat falling down from his face onto the piece of paper. Lucy could not se herself but she could see the entire room and her father as if she was standing right next to him. Lucy reached out her hand to touch him, just so she could in her dreams. Nothing's happening yet…
Then, Jacob Dior fell off his seat and he was sitting on the floor. He was backing away from the open windows. Lucy stepped back and tried to look at the same spot where her father was looking at with terror in his eyes. The curtains parted and in came a dog so large it could hardly be called such in Lucy's opinion. She backed away, like her father, staring openmouthed at the vicious black dog that was now advancing towards them both. The dog growled and was coming towards her father alone. The animal could not see Lucy.
Her father. Daddy. He is going to die!
Without thinking, Lucy tried to grab something but her hands went through things like the table lamp as would thin air.
"No!" she shouted. It was as if the dog and her father had heard her because they looked at her. The look of terror in her father's eyes was replaced by one of curiosity. As for the dog, it growled and pawed on the carpet but it did not attack Lucy. She looked long and hard into the dog's eyes and for a moment, Lucy thought she heard it speak to her. The dog backed away and jumped out of the window. Lucy could not understand what was happening. Her father stood up, frowning at her. When the dog was gone, her father looked at her again blankly. She was invisible again.
Lucy woke up bathed in sweat. She blinked her eyes. The sky outside her window was already dark and she could hear her mother cooking in the kitchen and Aaron playing the guitar in his bedroom. Strange dream, Lucy thought. Daddy and an unnaturally large dog? Why was he so afraid? Well, considering the dog was impossibly huge and ugly but…
"What?" she asked out loud. Lucy moved her head. She could have sworn she heard someone call her name and tell her to go to her father's study.
"No," she whispered hoarsely. The voice repeated itself, as well as the message.
Was she going crazy? It has been a year since her father was found dead of cardiac arrest on his desk. Why can't she move on and let go?
Daddy's death was untimely, she thought angrily. He was not supposed to die yet! Something scared him so much, Lucy knew. Lucy could remember that night. Her father was an English teacher but he also wrote stories and had some published. When Lucy asked him who had been his greatest influence was, he answered without doubt: John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. He would tell her all about his stories and read her the books, which were all so long and descriptive she almost instantly fell asleep. But her father's obsession with Tolkien did not stop at reading the Anglo-Saxon professor's works and naming his son and daughter after Aragorn and Luthien, respectively.
For the last three years, Lucy, including her mother and brother, has noticed a slight change in him. He seemed very distracted and out-of-phase. He almost ran over a pedestrian. He bumps into things, which he never does because he was a very careful person. He stopped being so talkative. What bothered Lucy the most was that, though she never shared the same Tolkien passion her father had, he stopped talking about him and his works. Once she asked him about the passing of the last elves over the Sea and her father slammed his hand down on his desk and snapped, "Don't talk about things you do not understand!" Lucy had been hurt but she said nothing. Next, he and her mother had a huge fight when she discovered that he wasted more than a thousand dollars to purchase an old sword he claims to have a historical value. He slept with the sword under his pillow that Lucy's mother decided to sleep on the couch. Something bothered her father, Lucy knew in her heart but she said and did nothing. She was content living in the dark where she worried about no one else but herself.
Then, his unexplained death. Jacob Dior, according to all the specialists her mother knew, did not have any prior sicknesses. There was no family history of early deaths. In fact, men and women from the Dior clan lived to almost a hundred years old. Jacob was already in college when his great grandfather died. What caused her father's death?
Could he have seen a huge black dog that night?
Lucy heard the voice in her head again, telling her to go to her father's study. Unable to resist, she got out of her room and slowly went inside the door she had tried to forget about. Inside was cold and gloomy, without the warmth of her father's 24/7 table lamp and the computer. Lucy could almost imagine the smell of her father's musk cologne mixed with brewed coffee. Billie Holiday's music would be playing in the background and his casual greeting whenever she came in: "Tinuviel, my sweet."
My father lived in a world of childhood dreams and fantasies, Lucy said in her mind, walking ever so slowly towards the desk, where one book lay. Something went wrong with my father because of it. She went to the book and it was covered in black leather. When she opened it, the pages fell off. Lucy's eyes widened. The pages were yellowed, the edges were tattered, and the paper almost crumbled in her hands. Gently, she placed them back together. As she began to close the cover, something caught her eye.
Lucy, brows furrowed, arranged the pages separately upon her father's desk. When she thought she was finished, she stared hard at what had formed out of the pages. It was a huge diagram, like a family tree. She saw her name and Aaron's name at the very bottom, just beside their twin cousins, Wallace and Victor. Lucy traced the diagram upwards, from her father and Aunt Deirdre, to Grandfather Francis and Great Grandfather Roland and Great-Great Grandmother Beatrix…
Lucy worked her way up and up and further up until she could no longer understand the names she saw. Then, there it was. Dior Thing-something, married to a Nimloth person. This was the very first Dior Lucy saw and she surmised that it must have been the first of the line. But a thin fold at the top caused Lucy to take another look. She flipped the fold up and saw that the first Dior was not the First Ancestor but…
"Me?" Lucy squinted at the small letters, trying to make sure. Yes, she saw it. L-U-T-H-I-E-N. It was her name, all right. And who's Beren Erchamion? Suddenly, something got recalled in her brain. Aaron's real name is Aragorn. According to her father, Aragorn son of Arathorn was descended from the Numenoreans, led by Elendil and his sons Isildur and Anarion when they escaped from a place called Numenor in the West. Lucy ran her finger down the diagram and saw the same names: Elros, Elendil, Isildur, Anarion, etcetera, etcetera down to her name. When Lucy traced back again, there was another line from her and Aaron's names, this time passing the names of Arwen and above was Elrond back to Earendil, etcetera.
The urge to laugh was strong and that was exactly what Lucy did. But before she could make a joke about it and have a private laugh, her cousins Wallace and Victor appeared at the door. They were both tall and were major school jocks from the basketball team, just like Aaron was for the soccer team. In the family, Lucy thought she was the black sheep.
"Before you ask why we're here," said Victor, the twin with the blue eyes. "Aunt Lindsay has been called for an emergency at the hospital. Ten major road accidents late this afternoon. Weird, really. Aaron's still on the phone with his girlfriend and dinner's ready. We came here to check on you."
"Hey, cousin! What's that?" asked Wallace, the twin with the grey eyes. But Lucy gathered the pages and kept them inside the leather cover.
"Er, nothing! Let's eat! I'm hungry!"
The three cousins went down to the dining room, followed a few seconds later by Aaron. Victor turned on the television and the news broadcast was all about freak accidents on the highway and up in the air.
"Freaky," remarked Victor, spearing a slice of roast chicken into his mouth. The scenes somehow mesmerized Lucy. A helicopter and a small plane crash landed on top of trees after a flock of giant eagles appeared out of nowhere, flying to the west. The seas were in turmoil and storms began popping out all over the world. Earthquakes rocked many countries and plants began to die. Animals were leaving their homes causing accidents to happen on roads.
"What's this, Armageddon?" asked Aaron.
A loud piercing cry echoed throughout the house. Lucy and the others covered their ears.
"What's happening!" Wallace shouted. Lucy frowned. Then, she heard it. Growling. Lucy turned around and saw the huge black dog in her dream in the kitchen, advancing towards them. It wants to kill them. It especially wants to kill her.
"No!" Lucy screamed as the dog jumped into the air and made its way to pounce on Lucy and the unknowing twins and Aaron.
()Tolkien, John Ronald Reuel. (2001) The Silmarillion, Second Edition. New York: The Ballantine Publishing Group.