Broken Blade of Din
Disclaimer: Hello! This is Alia, the full summery is posted after this. I do not own any of Tolkin's works...I only own the idea of Din, that was till I first put him on paper, and he took control of himself. Read & Review. FLAMES ARE WELCOME! Leave your e-mail adress if you review I reply and answer any questions or coments that you have. If it is a 'flame' I will try to empart to you my opinion, or request your opinion..., or ask for your help. I love all reviews.
Summery: Dinfaroth was a noble warrior who faught in the last alliance, that battle changed him forever. Now the warrior has put aside his sword for all eternity, a plead to the Valar took him to Earth, but in year 2004 he is retuned to Middle-earth just before the counsil of Elrond. Will the warrior once again take up his sword against the dark lord? Or is middle-earth doomed?
Thoughts- but
Speaking with thoughts- 'My Lord'
Elvish- '...'
Western- "..."
It Starts.
It was a cold night on the front lines, anyone with sence was inside..., But I've never been acused of having any sence. The mirkwood elf sighed as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. It was his duty to protect his Lord-King...The warrior tensed slightly when the tent flap behind him lifted sightly, but then relaxed when he saw that it was his King. 'Dinfaroth, will you come inside?' Dinfaroth shook his head no, he would not abandon his post, even if the Valar themselves comanded him to move, he would not. ' Why so silent? You are allowed by the law to speak to me Din.' Din once more shook his head, and pointed with his chin twords the other guards. 'Very well then my friend...I release you from your post for the night. Now come inside so that we may talk.' Din's eyes narrowed and became frosty. 'Din don't look at me like that.' The king then motioned for one of the guards to take Dinfaroth's place.
The King then ushered Dinfaroth inside, 'My Lord-King, I realy must protest. It is my duty to see to your protection.' Dinfaroth's voice was quiet and a low rich baritone. 'I do not need a guard for every moment of every day.Besides we are friends.' Din sighed and again shook his head. 'My King, we are on the front lines...you do need a guard for every moment of every day. Besides, our friendship is secondary to my duty to you Lord-King Oropher.' Oropher sighed, Dinfaroth...had become his personal guard the moment that he was concived, which was before he himself was even concived. Dinfaroth was fifty years older than his King, and had his duty drilled into him from birth, Din had also been introduced to fighting as soon as he was strong enough to weild a blade. The young lord Oropher, chose a name for his guard at five years old, Telenmar ended the day that Dinfaroth began. 'In case of forgetfulness my King, I am your guard & ally fist, advisor second, servant third, and friend fourth.' Oropher nodded, 'I understand Din. I request that you wear some form of armor into this fight. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you were to die...' The King's eyes scaned his friend, all that he wore was leggings, boots, a leather jerkin, and his blood stained cloak. 'You would stand it, and become stronger. If I am killed it shall be in protecting you. Rest with the knowlege that my death shall always precead your own...even if I must kill myself for that to be true.' Din then rose, bowed, and exited the tent. Outside he nodded to the guard and resumed his post.
The next morning King Oropher woke to see Dinfaroth standing in his tent readying his armor, 'I thought that I requested that you wear some armor Dinfaroth.' 'You did my King.' 'Then why are you without?' Din turned with his Lord's brest plate in his hands. Orophers eyes narrowed, Dinfaroth was wearing some armor...if greaves, and bracers counted as armor. 'I am not without my Lord-King. We must make haste.' Oropher sighed, there was no use arguing with Din, he always followed his own standards. Din helped his King into his armor, as his King began to leave the tent Dinfaroth grabbed his quiver, bow, twin blades, and dirk. As he stepped into the pre-dawn light he schooled his features, and once again willed away his abillity to speak or thought beyond the King's saftey. The king's son Thranduil watched the elder elf's transfomation upon exiting the tent, Dinfaroth lives to his name. Even standing by the enterance of the tent I could not hear a word that he spoke, Silent-Hunter indeed. As Dinfaroth belted on his weapons he glanced at the young prince. Thranduil would make a good King when the Valar called for Oropher. I only hope that I can insure that his father will live through this war, even if it means my death.
Dinfartoh ran to his Kings side and wispered, 'We must hurry...something has happened at the eastern point.' King Oropher nodded, Dinfaroth could comunicate telepathically with other's. King Oropher blew his horn and summoned his soldiers, 'My friends, there is trouble on the front. We must hasten there imediatly!' The Kings legions nodded in understanding, even if the King did not have a dispatch in his hands his information was always correct. Dinfaroth ducked in side his tent for a moment and reapered wearing the mark of his station. It was a pretty thing, a mythril collar with twists of gold and silver, it had a drop on the front that was the focus of the peice, there emblomised in emerald and mythril was the Kings personal crest on it. It signified his station as Lord Guard of the King and his lack of speach. Dinfaroth, himself made it under the Kings direction, he then exited his tent as he fastened the collar around his neck and moved to the front of the procession by his King.
When the reached the front lines to replace another battalion, they arrived just in time to quell an attack that would have crushed the weakened fighters easily. The battle was a short one, the orcs charged only for many of them to be felled be elvish arrows. Dinfaroth shot many and swiftly nocked another arrow, only to lower his bow in time to spin behind his Lord-King, who was engaged with two orcs, and take a blow from his right sholder to his left hip. Wincing in pain Dinfaroth pulled the dirk from his belt and slit the disgusting creatures throat. King Oropher turned and saw his bodyguard kick the orc from his blade. 'I shall guard your back my Leige.' Oropher nodded, and caught sight of his friends wound, 'You are hurt!' Dinfaroth shoved his liege out of the way only to recive another wound as he shot the orc. 'Keep your mind focused on the battle my King.' he said softly as he wiped the blood off of his face and probed the gash that went from his under left eye to his right. After Dinfaroth had spoken, the battle was ended. The general gave his thanks to King Oropher and nodded to the one who had passed the message on. Dinfaoroth focused his mind to contact Lord Elrond, 'My Lord Elrond. King Oropher has taken over the eastern point. The General's men have been relived.' 'Have you passed on our position?' His King asked, Dinfaroth nodded an afermative.
Lord Elrond heard the message from Oropher's servent, "My Lords, King Oropher hs taken back the eastern point." One of the young mortal generals asked, "My Lord Peredhil, how do we know this information to be accurate?" The elf lord glanced at the mortal, "It is accurate because it comes from King Orophers personal servant." The young man looked shocked, "The King of Greenwood brought a servant into battle?" The gathered lords that had meet Dinfaroth or that knew of his reputation grinned, "Dinfaroth is not your ordinary servant. His job is to ensure that he does whatever possible to keep the king from harm. He has been trained in the art of war since he could speak, and killed for the first time at a very young age. No, I trust Dinfaroths information." The mortal nodded, "Then I too shall trust his information."
The Kings men spent the next day in almost constant battle, so it was that with the constant movement that Din's wounds did not heal or close. Dinfaroth had slipped into a state of numbness due too blood loss, his King was the first to notice his friends condition. During a break between battles Oropher pulled Dinfaroth aside, 'You must let someone tend to your wounds, or you will be killed.' Dinfaroth weakly tried to move his King aside, yet he could not budge Oropher in his weakend state. Dinfaroth sighed, 'As you wish my King.' Oropher smiled, Dinfaroth had just admited to needing help, turning Oropher called for the healer. The healer fussed with Dinfaroth for an hour before announcing that the stubborn elf would live. The healer then ordered Dinfaroth to be confined to his cot for the remander of the day, so that his body could begin to heal. Dinfaroth lay there and smiled, he would speak to his old friend instead of doing nothing. 'How doth the Sun fair?' 'Not to well, and how are things with the Moon?' 'I have been confined to my bed by a healer almost as stuffy as you Glorfindel.' 'I am not stuffy. What has caused you to be confined?' 'Mild bloodloss. Enough so that Oropher was worried for my life,' Dinfaroth laughed mentally, 'Yet when is my King not worried about my health?' 'You do have a point. He worries over you like a mother.' 'What has caused the Sun to worry, for I hear it in your voice.' 'You are soon to be pulled back...' 'Why?' 'The main force of Mordor is soon to decend.' 'Ah. The final battle approaches...' 'I must go Din, I shall speak with you soon.' 'Fare you well, for the moon cannot shine without the Sun.' ' And fare you well, the nights would be dark without the Moon.'
End Authors note
Alia: I would like to say right now that THIS IS NOT A SLASH FIC. The two are very close friends and pick with each other. I am also looking for a beta for this story...as well as anyone who would wish to co-author this with me. Either way, 'Please be kind to me a poor college student and drop me a reivew.' If you love it, hate it, don't care...I want to know! I live off of comments and sugestions, so by all means share your thoughts.
