A drop of rain fell on Feanar's face as he gazed across the plains of Pelennor. Osgiliath lay far to the east. Beyond that lay Feanar's home, then the moutains marking the land of Mordor. Feanar could see a glow just under the clouds and just above the moutains. He was sure that it came from Mt. Doom. As Feanar gazed blankly out of the White City, Celgalad was drawing nearer to Feanar, making a big show of sneeking up on Feanar to Elgorn. Elgorn stood a few paces away from Celgalad, shaking his head. When Celgalad was naught a few inches from Feanar, Feanar spoke, causing Celgalad to jump.
"I know you are there, Celgalad. You need to be a lot quieter to sneek up on me." Feanar turned his head just enough to see his startled friend. Elgorn walked up, smiling.
"I told you it wouldn't work, my loud friend." He glared evily at Celgalad. They each took their place at Feanar's side.
"Can you believe it? Hardly a week here and already we are preparing to leave. I wanted to explore this place, for the first time I did was not enough to quench my thirst. I was also planing on getting at least a week or two of sleep in a bed, not on the ground." Celgalad said.
"Quit complaining. We have gone longer without sleep even." Elgorn snaped at his friend. Celgalad waved it aside. "Thought you were going to get a sword, Feanar." Elgorn said, abruptly changing the subject. "Here is the best place to get swords that are less likely to break."
"True. I will go ask Aragorn." Feanar straitened and turned his back to Pelennor. "Thanks for reminding me Elgorn." He briskly walked to the great hall.
The hall was made of black and white stones. Over a white marble thone, a great golden replica of the kings crown hung. On the first step up to the thone, there was a black chair. That was the chair of the Steward. Both seats were empty at the moment. Feanar needed not to go far to find the ones who would fill the seats. Faramir and Aragorn were standing near the servants exit. Feanar heard that Faramir and Aragorn were in a conversation so Feanar stood a repectfull distance away. Aragorn noticed the young elf and gesursed him over.
"We were just speaking about you Feanar. Faramir here noticed that you were without a sword." Aragorn started. "Faramir also reminds me that we may have the perfect sword for you." Feanar blinked, confused. He bowed.
"Thank you."
"As I was saying to Aragorn, you seem to match a discription that a dream of mine. It had been telling me of an elf." Faramir said. Feanar's confusion increased, though it did not show on his face.
"A dream about me?"
"Yes, I think. In my dream there was a figure like an elf, wreathed in fire, rasing up the sword in question."
"What does this sword look like?"
"Black, with writing in Quenya on the blade." Aragorn said. "I do not know the language of Quenya, nor did any elf that passed through earlier. I know that Legolas has kept the language alive in Ithilien, so perhaps you would be able to read it." Aragorn stode forward and griped Feanar and Faramir's sholders. "Follow me to the armory." Aragorn abruptly turned and exited through the door leading to the lower levels. Faramir and Feanar quickly followed.
A few minautes later, Aragorn, Faramir and Feanar entered the armory, dimly lighting the large room with a torch. Feanar studdied a shirt of chain mail as Aragorn unlocked a trunk that had been covered in leather. Feanar stared as Aragorn pulled out a sheathed sword. The scabbard was a rusty-brown in color and had the look of much wear. Aragorn handed it to Feanar. Feanar grasped the handle, surprised to find that his hand fit in it perfectly. Powerfuly he drew the sword. He blinked. The black sword glitered in the light, but the blade was not whole. It was halfed on the blade. Feanar upturned the scabbard, and let the other half of the blade to fall out. The broken sword piece rang as it hit the ground. Feanar diped down to pick up the swords blade. Holding the scabbard and the sword piece in one hand, he looked at the engraving near the hilt of the blade. Aragorn was right, the language was that of Quenya.
"The name of this sword is Mormegil. The blade reads: 'Mormengil, sword of fire.'" Feanar looked at Aragorn. "Please, when you remake this sword, leave the engravings." He then sheathed both the broken piece and the hilt of the sword, and returned it to Aragorn's hand. "This gift, it is fit for a king, Lord Aragorn. I thank you."
Aragorn handed Feanar a map. "I will show you the best path of which you should take. Though do not make be your only plan, for things have a tendancy to go wrong." He looked at Faramir in amusement. The steward grined slightly, shaking his head. Feanar opened the map and placed it on a small table in the side of the room. It showed Gondor, Rohan and Mordor in great detail. Aragorn pointed at Osgiliath. "I'll start here, for it is for sure that you go there. From there, continue east. Soon you will reach the crossroads. Don't go on the path, just near, for we don't have any reports from the crossroads. All the scouts that went there would be here already, so I am lead to believe that they are dead." Feanar glanced at Faramir at this. The steward was as surprised at the news as Feanar was. "When you reach the intersection, go north."
"But wouldn't it be faster if they went to the Morgal vale?" Faramir asked.
"That is a cursed place, none now go there. We watch from the entrance of the vale, and the other side was empty, as last I know. But it would be better if they went the safer route. So Feanar, go north. The path should lead you to Udun. There we have men watching the place most carefully. From there you can go to Isenmouthe, and that is as far as you need to go. Many things there would tell if an enemy has come or not." Aragorn stood, and folded the map. In the hands of Feanar he placed it. "You need it, Minas Tirith does not. We have maps aplenty." Feanar willingly took the map.
"One thing I have been wondering, when should we leave?" Feanar asked. "Also when will I get the sword, for my hands need to get accostomed to the blade."
"Thank the Valar that you are no hobbit. Your questions are simple and to the point. A hobbit's are not." Aragorn and Faramir snikered. "The sword will be ready at nightfall. As for starting off, a week should be right. This gives you time to rest, and pack your, most likely, scattared things. Faramir,"
"Sir?"
"Make sure that the rest of the Fellowship is alerted and given what they need. I am asuming that you don't like armor?" Aragorn directed the question at Feanar.
"I will wear it if there is need. But I don't particularly like it." Feanar said.
Aragorn laughed. "Spoken like a true Elven warrior. Well, your father and I will feel beter if you have some armor on. I will have a leather armor made for you and your friends. Aeglos and Boromir have armor. I believe the Dwarves do as well." Aragorn paused, aparently remembering something. Aragorn then shook his head. "I'll have the fool of a Took find you tonight." Feanar bowed, knowing that it was time for him to leave the men to themselves.