A Monumental Event

Summary: Something is amiss in Rivendell, and it is up to Lindir to discover what it is.

Chapter One: Lindir Begins to Suspect

The First Born children of Ilúvatar have long been envied by those that dwell with them in Middle-Earth. Men and Dwarf alike are struck with awe when the skills of the Elves are compared to their own. Long have they been admired for their expertise in warfare, their prowess in the defense of their realms. Their knowledge has yet to be rivaled, and their equal in beauty and grace has yet to be seen, if indeed such a creature exists. It appears to mortals that the Eldar know all, and so to catch one unaware is an action only heard of in myths and legends, in a time long forgotten.

These events are not unheard of, however. For there have been times when the Elves have been surprised and shocked by the actions of others. When Beren revealed his lost hand to Thingol, the King's surprise was so great that his attitude softened towards the mortal. When Niniel discovered her true identity from the lips of Glaurung, her horror and anguish was so great that she cast herself into the River Teiglin. When Elrond discovered Estel's great love for Arwen, to say that he was shocked would have been the greatest understatement known. Yet these instances of surprise are few and far between, thus creating the belief that Elves are omnipotent, with their knowledge of events stretching far into the future.

Therefor, had any mortal been present on the Third of January, 3019, in the common gardens of Rivendell, they would have witnessed a legendary event, for Lindir, Songwriter and Poet of Rivendell, was struck speechless.

And for Rivendell's Bard, this was A Monumental Event.

Lindir had been born with a gift for the expression of words, his sharp wit and fluid descriptions could even rival that of Daeron. Never had a situation occurred in which Lindir could not find some turn of phrase, be it in Quenya, Sindarin, Westron or, when the mood took him, Entish. As he took in all the beauty that lay about him, Lindir couldn't help but describe it in great depth so that in years to come, others would be able to share that moment with him.

But none of his skills or gifting could have prepared the Bard for this. For he was currently standing in the gardens, watching in horror as Lord Elrond… sang?

Not that this was unusual, for the Lord of Imladris had often been noted to sing for his companions if they had recently partaken in some Miruvor. Lindir himself had remarked many a time that their Lord made a fine baritone. But this was different.

The words that came from Elrond's lips were in Westron, and sounded so harsh and jilted that had Lindir not been frozen to the spot, he would have covered his ears to protect them. As it was, the Bard was wincing in his frozen state, wondering where in Middle-Earth his Lord had heard something so disjointed.

Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky
It had the one long horn, one big eye.
I commenced to shakin' and I said "ooh-eee"
It looks like a purple people eater to me.

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater…

"My Lord?" Lindir cautiously made his presence known to Elrond, who snapped his head in the direction of the Bard.

"Lindir." Elrond greeted him, somewhat embarrassed. "You caught me unawares, I am afraid that the warm sun had convinced me to sing a small ditty as I wandered."

Lindir blinked. "A what, sir?"

Elrond stared at Lindir for a few moments, then closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, as if to clear his thoughts. "My apologies, a ditty is an expression for a light song." Elrond explained as they strolled through the gardens.

Lindir frowned and stared over the gardens. "A … ditty." He tried the new word out on his tongue. "Truly, I have never heard this before. From what ancient lore did you learn it?"

Elrond gave a small smile. "No new lore, Lindir, but from our newest resident, Aerie."

"Aerie?" Lindir was beginning to suspect that his Lord had been into the Miruvor again. Rivendell had no new residents since Estel had been taken in as a mere babe, and in dark time such as these no person unheard of would have been permitted to stay without the knowledge and acceptance of the whole household.

Elrond paused for a few moments before realisation set in. "Ah, but you were not here when she came! I went to summon you, but Erestor convinced me to leave you to record the events of the past few months in peace. But three eve's ago, I was strolling through the gardens when I felt that a new presence had entered the realms of Rivendell. It seemed as though it did not fit in this world, and it agitated me."

Elrond voice trailed away and Lindir stared at his Lord. Few times had the Lord of Imladris been agitated, and fewer times had he admitted it to someone of importance, let alone Lindir.

I am beginning to believe that this is the work of something much greater than Miruvor…

"Ah, but I was foolish, and rather than the darkness I feared it was but a simple maiden and her brother. They told me they were sent on a mission of great importance, and I first I doubted them, but now I see that they speak truly, for – ah! Erestor, how do you fare?"

Lindir watched in amazement as his Lord walked towards his chief councilor, and his mind raced through all the new information that he had just received.

1. Lord Elrond was singing… very poorly… about a Purple People Eater.

2. Rivendell has acquired two new residents that I have never heard about before.

3. Lord Elrond was agitated.

4. He ignored it.

5. He called himself foolish.

Conclusive feeling - Be wary! Something is obviously in the water.

After a few more moments of confusion, Lindir shook his head and went on his way to the stables, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that had settled in his stomach.

However, once at his destination Lindir was met with an overwhelming sense of mistrust as he walked through the stable doors. So heavy was this feeling that his knees buckled under the weight of it.

What in Elbereth's sweet name has caused such a sense of foreboding? Lindir though as he wildly scanned the room for danger. Even the horses were troubled, and Lindir noted that Glorfindel's horse seemed particularly agitated… agitated?

"It seemed as though it did not fit in this world, and it agitated me…"

"Hush now, Asfaloth, hush now." Lindir soothed the white horse, stroking his nose as he gazed about the room.

"The horse is skittish." Someone's voice called softly from the corner of the room. Lindir did not flinch as he continued to stroke Asfaloth.

"Indeed." Lindir replied quietly, trying to identify the intruder's voice. It was dark and low, revealing no secrets. As the creature spoke, Asfaloth became even more skittish, and Lindir began to hum quietly under his breath to calm the nervous horse.

The creature behind Lindir did not move, and for what seemed an age silence reigned. Lindir felt more and more uncomfortable until he could bear the feeling no longer.

"Are you going to give me your name, stranger, or shall we continue on as is?"

The stranger chuckled, and walked around until he was in Lindir's range of sight. "I am Nahald, son of Fengel, brother to Aerie and messenger of the Valar."

Lindir blinked. "Messenger of the… Valar?"

Nahald nodded. "Aye.

A pause.

"The same Valar that rule over Middle-Earth and reside on Valinor?"

"Aye."

"And they sent a message… with you?"

"No."

Relief rushed through Lindir like an ocean wave.

"They sent my sister with a message, I am merely here to protect her."

"Oh."

Lindir tried a new approach. "Have you traveled far?" He asked, moving to clean Asfaloth with a large comb.

"Our home is Gondolion, so we have traveled some distance." Nahald answered casually, stroking Lord Elladan's horse, which seemed to enjoy the attention.

Lindir knew he would develop a massive headache by sundown. "Gondolion? The Hidden City? The one that was destroyed by Morgoth in 511 and is currently home to Wargs, Balrogs and Orcs. This is your home?" Lindir couldn't keep the cynical tone out of his voice.

"Do you question my honor?" Nahald's voice was as hard as steel, and Lindir was confronted by the sudden change in tone.

Yes, I do doubt you immensely, but we will not mention this yet.

"I question naught but my own hearing." Lindir forced a laugh, and Nahald relaxed at this, giving Lindir the opportunity to study his associate. Nahald was tall and broad, with the mannerisms and actions of a Mortal. In fact, he reminded Lindir strongly of the Mortal Boromir, but when Boromir was a proud and honorable man, one to trust and honor, this Mortal was merely the pretense of nobility.

Mayhap I judge him too quickly. Indeed, he may be jesting.

"So how does Manwë fare these days?" Lindir asked casually, nerves on edge.

Nahald shrugged his shoulders slightly. "We had no contact with him, it was Elbereth who we were summoned by."

Jesting? No. Delusional. Oh, by the Valar, yes!

"And is she well?"

"Relatively. Námo won't let her redecorate the Halls, so she threw a temper tantrum and isn't speaking to him at the moment. She even sent Lúthien to plead with him, but he won't budge. Other than that she is quite well."

Lindir blinked, noting subconsciously that he seemed to be doing a lot of that recently.

"Elbereth, Lady of the Stars, most beautiful of the Valar, threw a temper tantrum?"

Nahald nodded. "Sad, but true."

Lindir felt his head reeling. "I think I need to get some air, will you excuse me?" Without waiting for a response he backed out of the stables and ran towards the river.

I must check to see if anything has polluted its waters…


A/N: Okay, so it was my turn to write a parody! Any thoughts or ideas would be greatly appreciated!

This story is dedicated to all my friends at Deleterius, for their inspiring wit and genius! Thanks guys!