In An Age Before

by Phantom Bard

Part 298 posted, in which Helluin and the Riders of Norðr-vestandóttir Bý aid the Third Marshal Haleth in Rohan's defeat of the Easterling invaders. Brutal weather, disease, and failing morale play a part. Aldburg is no sooner freed of the eastern threat when tidings come of the Dunlending's invasion from the west. OCs galore as usual.

225. In An Age Before Chapter 225

In An Age Before – Part 225

"Foremost, I should like to understand thy inspiration for that weapon of Light," Mithrandir asked. "I deem that such a terrifying creation comes not from the perfection of those inventions as already exist, but rather it partakes of an unnatural leap in applied esoterica."

'Twas obvious that the Ithron was suspicious. Knowing aforetime that his old friend was given to unrestrained violence, he could not help but wonder if she had been subtly used to bring a weapon of mass destruction into the world. Could some malign influence from Nehemoth and the other husks, already long present when she had first scouted Skator in 1984, have crept into her mind, beguiling her with temptations to create a power that had no place in this time? Could she have been manipulated by an evil beyond her ken? Current military engineering included 'naught even remotely akin.

"The inspiration for E-ngúrglaw was twofold, meldir nín," Helluin began. "To understand the sources of my thought, I must first show thee the defeat of Tindomul at Fornost in 1851. The second precedent was the weapon that Glorfindel and I used against the Tor that blocked the East Road during the leaguer of Imladris in 1975."

Mithrandir nodded his agreement to Helluin and looked deeply into her eyes. Curious, Elrond and Glorfindel joined him and together the three felt their consciousnesses captured, and then they no longer sat in the Peredhel's study in the Hidden Valley. A night of war on the North Downs swirled 'round them within a perimeter defined by raging fires whilst screams and battle cries rent the air. 'Nigh the western walls of Fornost Erain they stood, with catapults and archers lining the battlements above. On the field, cavalry charged whilst archers and infantry advanced from a makeshift barricade of carts, wagons, and crates.

The final night of combat in the defense of Fornost, 4 Lothron, 1851, they heard Helluin declare. Elrond recalled it all too clearly, for he too had been present.

Then from the west, a duel of two advanced onto the field. Light and Shadow contested with bitter enmity. The Witch King came, advancing behind a frenzy of sword strokes. Helluin faced him wielding Anguirél and the Sarchram, slowly giving way and leading him towards the barricade. Despite the ferocity and the speed of their swordplay, Helluin taunted the Nazgûl ceaselessly and her weapons cursed him as well. Elves and Men shied from the terror projected by the Ringwraith whilst foes shied from Helluin's Light, none daring to intervene, but rather they pursued their own combat, and during that time the last of the Host of Angmar fell.

Helluin attacked Tindomul viciously in a sudden onslaught with the Black Sword and the deadly Sarchram, driving him to retreat, and then she withdrew 'til she stood before the rear of a wagon that held 'naught but a single open crate and within it, an heirloom mirror. There she awaited his next assault.

Seeing this, the Ringwraith leapt forward and charged after her.

Now Helluin stood with one foot on the bottom of the crate's open lid, and she burst into a blaze of Light, far brighter than any she had manifested 'til then. The reflected brilliance alone cowed the wraith, for the mirror had been wrought in Númenor in an Age before, and its glass was silvered with mithril. Squinting against that glare, the five soldiers she had trained brought their mirror polished shields to bear on the wraith, shields that had been forged in Khazad-dûm as gifts to the first king of Arnor…forged of mithril.

The beams of Light reflected off those shields blasted the wraith senseless as they focused on him. 'Twas an ancient Light from Aman that suffered no touch unclean, and it scorched the undead spirit of the Ringwraith as a blowtorch held to living flesh. Men and Elves held their breath and watched as Tindomul froze in place, petrified in the brilliance, and unable to attack or withdraw. And then his cloak began to collapse in on itself and his sword fell from his hand. A scream louder than a clap of thunder rocked the walls of Fornost, and Men desperately covered their ears, but it lasted only a moment. The wraith's cloak fell to the ground. His fallen sword withered as a straw in a firestorm. And finally, all was silent. Helluin extinguished her Light and stood catching her breath. The five soldiers dared open their eyes, and they looked upon the ruin of their greatest foe.

After a moment of shock and amazement at the Witch King's fall, the surrounding defenders burst into a deafening cheer. Then the night changed and they no longer watched the celebration of the final defense of Fornost.

The liberation of Imladris on the night of 20 Gwirith, 1975, they heard Helluin say as they recognized the end of the narrow slot canyon 'nigh the East Road where the beleaguering forces from Angmar blocked the exit from the Hidden Valley. This time, 'twas Glorfindel who recalled that night most clearly.

The creaking of wheels and the chuffing of horses was heard from the narrow way that led down to the killing field on the outer bank of the Ford of Bruinen. The Tor had just begun to arise from their pits 'nigh the road when Helluin and Glorfindel rolled their cart by hand to the entrance of the defile. Now the two Noldor marked the nearest of the Tor clearly, and they directed the brass tube towards those creatures. Then the slot canyon and the land just outside of it were blasted by a brilliant ril of Light. From the narrow entrance 'twixt the cliffs came a concentrated beam of the Light of Aman that scorched 'aught that it touched. Yrch, Men, Wargs, and wolves were immolated as they stared in shock, and it petrified one after another of the Trolls.

As the enemy shied back from the entrance of the slot canyon, the two Noldor advanced against them. Helluin and Glorfindel pushed their cart forward, clearing the opening and rolling up onto the road. Now they were able to aim their weapon straight down the paved way, and great was the slaughter they wrought, but e'er they targeted the Tor, for other allies would slay those of the lesser kindreds. For the quarter part of an hour, the beam shifted to and fro, and one by one the Hill Trolls were rendered into stone. A score and two grotesque statues stood on the road and to either side, ne'er to move again.

Helluin blinked and the vision ended. Mithrandir, Elrond, and Glorfindel found themselves back in the Peredhel's study in Imladris.

"Now ye have seen the precedents leading to the creation of E-ngúrglaw," Helluin said. "Ye have seen the effects of the Light of Aman concentrated and focused against Tindomul in 1851, and ye have seen the Light directed as a weapon to slay the Tor in 1975. By the arcane arts of the Ithryn Luin, that Light was concentrated and multiplied, then directed to create that weapon we called the Death Ray."

The Ithron nodded gravely to her, offering his thanks for her explanation. He now realized that like the creation of the Sarchram, an unprecedented weapon that had been empowered with consciousness as an extension of her own fëa, the Death Ray had developed from Helluin's earlier trials, not sprung wholly realized in a moment from 'naught. 'Twas the culmination of a century and a half of experiments in military science and had required the collaboration of two gifted spirits come from Aman. 'Twas not the result of some supernatural influence after all. Yet the result was terrifying and hinted at greater and more destructive capabilities that might be realized with a similar leap of inspiration.

I wonder if one day she may imagine the beam from the Death Ray multiplied and redirected through mirrors and rotating prisms into a moving grid to project a killing array that could slaughter an entire host in moments and from a great distance. This world is not ready for that. And what if she were to apply the energy of E-ngúrglaw to the unstable metals hidden deep within the earth? Disaster!

"Where is that weapon now, Helluin," Elrond asked.

"I saw it last in Ivanneth of 2000. 'Twas stored at the garrison of the inner bailey in the citadel of the Ithryn Luin. I deem it waits there still. By then, the destruction of Sheol was six years past and no further battles called for such a weapon. We had been fighting Wainrider cavalry, mobile enemies who had no strong places to assail," she said.

"Had anyone else tried to use E-ngúrglaw?" Mithrandir asked. "Could anyone else power it?"

"Nay, they did not, and I reckon they could not," Helluin said. "Even I could only do so when e'ery inch of my body was radiating Light. To power the weapon, I was required to sit close 'twixt the mirrors completely naked, else the Light was obstructed or too diffuse. It demanded the full measure of my power and not even the Ithryn could project Light in sufficient measure."

Mithrandir, Elrond, and Glorfindel nodded, accepting her assessment. They knew Helluin had absorbed her Light directly from the Two Trees and now possessed a reservoir beyond all others amongst the Noldor. The Ithryn had been forbidden to manifest their true power in Middle Earth, and so whether or not Alatar or Pallando could power the weapon was moot.

"So thou feel it reasonable to believe that E-ngúrglaw shall not be used again," Elrond asked.

"Nay, I do not," Helluin declared, to the alarm of the others. "Indeed, I am tempted to ride back into the east at once and beg an alliance of the Mâh-Sakâ and the Ithryn Luin, and perhaps Eärnil of Gondor as well. I crave to bring the Death Ray to Mordor, for ere I left, we had taken the lands east of the Sea of Núrn and could invade the Black Land directly. I imagine the armies of Rhûn riding against the soldiery of Mordor from the southeast whilst the armies of Gondor hold Dagorlad to prevent any escape from Udûn. I would cleave Orodruin and then the Barad-dûr, leveling them to Gorgoroth, and then I would turn my wrath on the Nine and raze Minas Morgul to the ground."

By then, the furious Noldo was illuminated within a ril of silver and gold and blue fire crackled from her eyes. Mithrandir, Elrond, and Glorfindel could feel the violence in her fëa yearning to be unchained, and whyfor would they be surprised at that, following the tidings that they had shared? She had returned from successful campaigns in Rhûn to find that disaster after disaster had befallen the west. Each of them could well 'nigh see her thought; not even three decades have passed since I defeated Tindomul and emptied Dol Guldur, and in my absence Khazad-dûm is fallen and Gondor has lost Isildur's city with its palantír. T'would seem I cannot turn my back for a moment…

I am pretty sure that was not in the Song, Mithrandir thought to himself. I wish I could recall it all clearly, alas.

"Helluin, in consideration of what has already come to pass these last decades, I beseech thee, remain in the west lest worse follows," the Ithron said. "The Nazgûl have incentive to strike at Osgiliath now that they hold Minas Morgul, and Ithilien could all too easily become the west province of Mordor. T'would be a crippling blow to the South Kingdom. 'Tis no stretch of the imagination to foresee further moves against Gondor."

"The whereabouts of Sauron is unaccounted for since thou drove him from the east," Elrond said, "but I wager he is either in Mordor gloating o'er his servants' victory whilst enjoying the spoils, or else he hath reoccupied Dol Guldur, there to pose a threat to Lórinand and its new rulers. I too would see thee remain in the west to bolster our resistance."

"And I would counsel thee to weigh the possibility of either the Nine or their master bidding to occupy Moria, now that Durin's folk have been driven hence," Glorfindel said. "We are not sure if Durin's Bane is in league with Gorthaur, for we know not what it truly is or whither its allegiance lies. We fear a confederation 'twixt them and if Lórinand falls, free passage of the Nazgûl and Sauron's armies into Eriador from an unassailable fortress."

Helluin's eyes passed from one friend to the next, growing wider with increasing shock as she looked into each of their worried faces. With the fire of her rage doused by their fears, she too could apprehend the jeopardy they felt and she deemed the strategic possibilities horrifying. Despite all that had befallen in her absence, she too could imagine the ills that threatened the future. The enemy simply enjoyed too many options, whilst they were relegated to guessing about the defense. Perhaps she had returned just in time.

Of late, the greatest safeguard of the west had fallen. Hadhodrond no longer guarded the Hithaeglir whilst south of the High Pass, none north of Anórien were placed to deny the enemy passage into Eriador. If Sauron or his Nine had reoccupied Dol Guldur, how long could Celeborn and Galadriel stand amidst a half-abandoned realm of archers? A far more populous Lórinand had not been impressively formidable when King Amroth had led his warriors to Dagorlad. And but fifty-six years after their stunning victory at the Battle of the Camp, King Eärnil and the army of Gondor had lost Minas Ithil. Helluin groaned and shook her head.

"Very well," she finally said, "I can see the necessity of strengthening the defenses of the west whilst we have some respite. I shall remain and do what I can to oppose any further advances by the enemy."

Mithrandir seemed to sigh with relief at her declaration. Thank the Valar that words have sufficed to dissuade her from her initial course, he thought to himself.

Elrond nodded, accepting her capitulation and offering her a grim grin of thanks. Glorfindel smiled and silently mouthed, 'thank you'.

"Whilst I enjoy your company, I should enquire of the fortunes of Chieftain Aranarth and the Dúnedain," she asked of her three friends. "How fare the scions of fallen Arthedain?"

For some moments, silence followed her question, yet this time 'twas not a pause of dread, but rather one in which Glorfindel deferred to his superiors whilst Mithrandir and Elrond decided 'twixt them which would speak. With a nod, the Ithron deferred to the Peredhel, for Imladris was closer to and communed more frequently with the Rangers of the North.

"Of the Houses of Elendil and Balar there is much to tell since thou last took thy leave of Celenhár," Elrond said.

Helluin nodded and raised a brow in curiosity, bidding her old friend continue.

"In 1978, the nobles of the Dúnedain and the First House of Beleriand came hither to take up several issues of the regency in the wake of the Fall of Arthedain. Into my keeping, Lord Aranarth committed the heirlooms of the House of Isildur, to be held in trust 'til a new king should arise. As thou know, this has been twice foretold, and so the Sceptre of Annúminas, the Elendilmir, the Elemmírë, the shards of Narsil, the royal seal, the lesser circlets of the heir, the princes and princesses, together with the great heraldry of Arnor, are now held in Imladris.

In 1984, Prince Artamir, along with a company of Rangers, took their way in stealth north through the lands of old Arnor to Forochel. There they recovered the Ring of Barahir from a Lossoth elder named Tulukaruq, who claimed he had received it directly from the hand of King Arvedui. The Dúnedain were quite pleased to ransom it with tools and weapons of iron, wagons of foodstuffs, and several casks of lamp oil."

The Peredhel chuckled at that.

"Afterwards, Chieftain Aranarth declined to wear it lest he be recognized by it and the ring joined the other heirlooms of the North Kingdom in the treasury of Imladris."

"That is good tidings, for the Ring of Barahir is a historic symbol," Helluin said, nodding in approval. "One day such trappings shall be reminders to the Dúnedain of their heritage."

She recalled Finrod son of Finarfin from their life in Aman and their crossing of the Grinding Ice at the start of the First Age. In Beleriand, he had been the first of the Eldar to meet Men. From the start, he had honored and valued their friendship, and was beloved by them in return. That mutual esteem would become a mixed blessing. In token of his thanks for saving his life in the Dagor Bragollach, Finrod King of Nargothrond had bestowed his ring upon Barahir, son of Bregor and the Seventh Lord of the House of Bëor. A decade later, Finrod would honor the oath he had sworn to Barahir by aiding his son Beren in his quest for the Silmaril. Captured by Sauron, the Noldo had died in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the very same tower on Tol Sirion that he had once built and named Minas Tirith.

"At our council in 1978, 'twas decided that in their youth, the royalty would be safeguarded and schooled here in the Hidden Valley. 'Twas the wish of Queen Mother Fíriel, and the notion was welcomed by my wife and myself, as well as the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. The queen's daughter, Princess Artanis wed Prince Gwíthír, son of King Níshír and Lady Brithil, in Nórui of 1978 after the return of their parents from the council. The following year, their son Annuihír¹ was born, heir to the Kingship of Eriador and a Prince of the Dúnedain. The prophecy of Iarwain moved forward again with this joining." ¹(Annuihír, Western Lord = annui(western) + hír(lord) Sindarin)

Elrond was referring to the ninth stanza of Iarwain's prophecy, delivered to Helluin and Beinvír in Ivanneth of 1461. The years were passing and the second line was coming true, just as the third line had for the first time with the wedding of Galor and Lainiel. Now all looked forward to the manifestation of the fourth line that held such great promise for the Dúnedain.

Though years and grass grow very long,

And her people pass to weak from strong.

Ancestral lines must rejoin this Age,

Ere sword's reforged and crown's reclaimed.

"From his fifth to his twenty-first year, Annuihír was schooled and trained in Imladris more than in Celenhár," Glorfindel said. "I refined his swordplay and archery myself, though he had learnt both whilst training as a Ranger."

"The prophecy of Iarwain Ben-adar was manifest again in 1982 when Prince Artamir wed the Lady Brennil in Ivanneth," Elrond continued. "By then, Lady Athelrian, Lady Brennil, and Lady Almiril of Gondor had completed their training in healing here, for that was their request to me at the council of 1978, but I digress. In 1984, Artamir and Brennil celebrated the birth of a daughter who shall succeed Brennil as Lady of the First House. Helluin, they took inspiration from their history and named her Lainiel."

Then for a while the study was silent and none spoke as Helluin's eyes were focused inward on her memories. Mithrandir, Elrond, and Glorfindel gave her peace in which to recall the nameless babe that she and Beinvír had rescued following the slaughter of her family in 1448. In time, the orphaned girl that her foster parents had named Lainiel was revealed to be the great-granddaughter of Lady Dúrrél, the elder daughter of Lord Baragund and sister of Morwen Eledhwen, and therefore the surviving Lady of the First House of Dorthonion. That title was held after by Lainiel and the heiresses of her line.

Lainiel had been snatched 'cross time from her birthplace in the First Age by Iarwain Ben-adar, as an act of contrition for his kidnapping of Balar, the elder son of Balan/Bëor, thereby to assuage the resulting deviation of history from the Song. Ere her death in 1534, Lainiel had wed Galor, Lord of Celenhár and the 35th King of Eriador's Middle Men. Four and a half centuries later, a second Lainiel had been born to the same house, but now for the first time her bloodline included a strain from her father, a Dúnedain prince. Also for the first time, Helluin realized, a Lady of the First House had been preceded in birth by an heir to the kingship of Eriador in a concurrent generation.

And for the first time, so far as anyone could attest, the heir of the House of Balar, the Kings of Eriador, was also a scion of Númenor. Annuihír was a direct descendant of Elendil through both of his sons, as much as he was a direct descendant of Balan, founder of the First House of Beleriand. In that, the nobility of his house was as ancient as Aranarth's. Helluin wondered if he would live the lifespan of a Middle Man, or one lengthened by the blood of the Númenórean kings that now flowed in his veins.

Finally, she blinked and returned her attention to the Lord Elrond, giving him a nod to affirm that she was ready to hear 'aught further that he would say.

"Like her namesake, the latter Lainiel is trained as a Ranger, but she is also studying healing in Celenhár with her mother, grandmother, and the Lady Almiril. She has learnt the healing arts of Gondor, Arthedain, and Imladris."

Helluin accepted his tidings, glad to hear that this Lainiel seemed inclined to follow the first Lainiel's path, at least in her training. If the chance came, Helluin would be curious to meet her one day.

"She favors her mother in appearance, and as thou know, the Lady Brennil is a dead ringer for her foremother, the first Lainiel," Elrond said, noting the slight widening of the Noldo's eyes with surprise.

"There are tidings too of the Lord Aranarth," the Peredhel continued. "Despite their mutual delay, he to see to the ordering of the Dúnedain and she to complete her training in healing, the chieftain wed the Lady Almiril in Cerveth of 1988. Almiril is a daughter of the lesser nobility of Minas Tirith and in childhood was once a handmaiden of the then Princess Fíriel at the court of her father, King Ondoher. She accompanied the army that Prince Eärnur brought to Lindon and chose to remain in the north to further her training in healing. Honoring the propriety of noble respectability as 'tis practiced in the South Kingdom, she took service with the Queen Mother after the war. She and Aranarth have yet to produce an heir to the lordship of the Northern Dúnedain, yet all look to that event with hope."

For a while, Helluin sat silent, digesting her old friend's tidings. Along with the great ills of the past decades, there was also much joy. All of Arvedui and Fíriel's children had wed, as had the children of the King of Eriador and the First House. Both of those ancient lineages now had heirs. Perhaps there would soon be an heir to the chieftainship of the Dúnedain as well. Most important of all though, it seemed that Eriador had been blessed with 'nigh three decades of peace following the Battle of Fornost. With Angmar defeated and the Witch King gone, perhaps the north would enjoy a respite in which to establish a new and purposely hidden realm.

"So how stand the Northern Dúnedain?" Helluin asked. "Have they settled? Do they prosper in their new realm?"

"In light of their fears of the horrors of war, most have accepted their lot and tried hard to adapt to their new roles as rural settlers," Elrond said. "I would be remiss in saying that all are happy though. Many are scions of generations of city dwellers, and amongst the more privileged there has been a measure of resentment. The landed gentry found they had no similar roles in the new realm and there has been little call for their skills. Few had the training to succeed as farmers, hunters, or fishermen. Some of those who ran small businesses have not fared so badly, for inns, stables, caravans of traders, and village markets have sprung up as needed. Those who were craftsmen have probably suffered the fewest tribulations, simply practicing their trades in small hamlets rather than in cities. There are also itinerant cobblers, tailors, ferriers, carpenters, wheel wrights, tinkers, chandlers, and thatchers, all needing 'naught but their tools and a wagon to ply their trades in a landscape where work is spread 'cross the countryside."

"'Tis those who were warriors that have most easily adapted to their new lives. Well 'nigh all the soldiers of Arthedain took training as Rangers," Mithrandir said. "Despite their vindication in 1975, many amongst them still chaff at their defeat in '74 and yearn to do 'aught that they can to redeem their honor by standing in the defense of their new homes. They have fiercely embraced the Ranger ways and their commitment is unquestioned. Now, whereas aforetime Rhudaur maintained a compliment of two and one-half thousand Rangers, o'er five times that count have come of Arthedain."

Fifteen thousand Rangers now guard the north…Lord Húngan would have been proud. And no doubt a like count of Laiquendi also roams Eriador, even those parts not patrolled by the Rangers. I should meet with them to hear their impressions of the changes in Eriador, for I wager none know them better, Helluin thought to herself.

"The Rangers of Celenhár still hold concourse at times with the Laiquendi," Mithrandir said, "and perhaps t'would be well for thou to meet with them too."

The Ithron was obviously commenting on her thoughts…again, and that prompted a groan from the Noldo, but also a nod of agreement. None of those present could seek out that kindred and be accepted, and Helluin had little doubt that they all craved to learn what the Green Elves had seen.

"I shall do so, my lords, and soon," Helluin said, "but not today."

At their looks of mixed approval and curiosity, she added, "I must first trade my black cloak for green, to blend in properly with the landscape. I wager the benefits of appearing as one of Sauron's Nine are the less here in Eriador than they were in the east."

That prompted some chuckles from her friends, but also nods of agreement.

In fact, Helluin remained three further days in the Hidden Valley, but at dawn on 28 Cerveth, Helluin, now attired in a hooded cloak of mixed greens, rode Red 'cross the Ford of Bruinen and then from the narrow slot canyon, out onto the East Road heading west through the Troll Shaws.

'Tis good to be traveling again, O Helluin, the Easterling horse said, not that 'aught can be faulted with the hospitality in yonder valley. Indeed the fodder was superior and the company most august. I shall be glad to return whensoe'er it may become possible.

After a short time trotting down the road and appraising the scenery, he added, Huh, I feel somewhat dull after exiting those cliffs. Is it my imagination, or are all things less clear and less vibrant now?

"Indeed they are just so, O Red. The return to the mundane world is e'er noticeable to me as well," she answered aloud. "All senses are heightened in Imladris though 'tis a phenomenon best kept to one's self when outside the valley."

I see, he said. Thou may count upon my discretion, O Helluin. So then, whither are we bound?

"We seek a most secretive kindred of Elves who inhabit this land," she said. "They are the Laiquendi, the Green Elves, and I doubt not that our leave taking from Imladris was marked by their scouts." For I have heard calls that are not birds, similar though they may sound, she thought to herself.

If they are so secretive, how then shalt thou find them?

"Seldom would I seek for them, but rather simply make myself available to be found by them."

Red nodded, accepting her words for he had no wisdom to gainsay her. They rode on through that summer's morn. The land was peaceful, the scenery wholly new to Red and far different from both the stuffy forest of Calenglad and the open steppes of Rhûn.

This is a strange landscape, O Helluin, he said 'round mid-morning as he tilted his head up and down to follow the contours of the ridges and ghylls. It feels very busy with all its twists and turns, not nearly flat enough to see safely in all directions, nor so heavily wooded as to provide cover. 'Tis most unsettling. I feel that 'aught could leap forth from any direction at any moment.

"Of late that has become unlikely, O Red. The road is safe and the land at peace. It hath been so for the past quarter century. I deem that any met hereon shall be friends." And I have sensed some of those for a while now.

Including that rather scruffy looking band waylaying the road ahead?

He was eyeing a dozen silent Men in cloaks of mixed greens bearing bows and quivers of arrows, with swords and daggers at their sides. They stood blocking the road where it rounded a bend. The company was commanded by a sergeant of Rhudaur.

"Aye, including them. They are Rangers of Rhudaur, guardians of this realm," she said as they approached.

At a couple fathoms, Helluin brought Red to a halt and laid a hand on the side of his neck, saying silently, easy now, they mean us no harm and simply seek our names and errand whilst traveling upon their road.

"Hail, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, we rejoice to find thee well," the leader said as he strode a few paces ahead of his company to come 'nigh them. "In the name of the king, welcome again to Rhudaur."

He obviously knew her, at least by appearance, and for his words of greeting, the Noldo dipped her head in honor.

"My thanks for thy welcome, good sergeant," she said. "I pray King Níshír and his family are well. 'Tis comforting to return to these lands and find them at peace. I am late come from Imladris, having taken counsel with the lords Elrond, Mithrandir, and Glorfindel after my return to the west. I seek now for the Laiquendi, to hear tidings of Eriador."

The sergeant offered her a bow and then said, "That kindred shall come to thee in their own time, though I wager thou know this better than I. If thy errand allows, I pray thee ride to Celenhár and greet my lord and others thou hast known aforetime."

Deeming that the Green Elves would find her whether she lingered in Rhudaur, rode to Cardolan, or visited friends in Celenhár, Helluin nodded to the sergeant. T'would be good to see Níshír and Brithil, Athelrian and Brennil, and now their children. And had she not expressed interest in meeting the young Lady Lainiel just a few days past? In any case, she was in no hurry.

"I shall come to Celenhár straightaway, good sergeant, for the Laiquendi shall find me there as easily as elsewhere and meeting old friends again would be welcome," she said. "I thank thee for thy suggestion."

The Man offered her a smile and then gestured his company to stand aside on the road.

"As thou know well the way and we have a patrol to complete, I shall bid thee swift and safe upon thy road, Helluin Maeg-mórmenel," he said.

Helluin offered him a dip of her head in parting and urged Red forward to a slow trot. They continued on 'til noon and then stopped to take a break for rations and water. By then, the Noldo reckoned that they had come halfway to the turn off at the ruined inn that led to Celenhár. She sat along the road's embankment, sipping from her water skin 'twixt bites of cheese, sausage, and real, fresh-baked bread. Red prospected along the verges, finding enough tender fodder to make a welcome meal. Eventually, he wandered a couple fathoms to a rill running downhill from the north and there drank his fill.

When they resumed their ride, they proceeded at a comfortable pace that Helluin left to Red. He shifted from trot to canter as the scenery became more familiar, bursting into a full-out gallop a couple times, just to stretch his legs.

'Round mid-afternoon, some six hours after meeting the sergeant and his company, they came upon a second company of Rangers awaiting them on the road. Unlike the first group who had conducted their patrol afoot, these were mounted and riding the road from west to east. Helluin and Red slowed to a walk and then came to a halt, again two fathoms away. At a glance, Helluin marked that these were Dúnedain Rangers and had probably served amongst the cavalry of Arthedain upon a time. They were commanded by a lieutenant who did a barely controlled double-take ere he traded bows in the saddle with the Noldo.

"Hail, Lady Helluin," he said, his voice betraying his surprise, "and on behalf of my chieftain, I welcome thee to Rhudaur. 'Tis a shock to meet thee on a day when 'naught has portended 'aught out of the ordinary and all seemed unremarkable aforetime." He shook his head, realizing that he was blabbering in his nervousness, and offered her a self-conscious grin.

"Well met, good lieutenant," Helluin replied, attempting to set him more at ease. "I hope that the Lord Aranarth and his family enjoy good fortune. 'Tis reassuring to find the East Road well patrolled, for thine is the second company of Rangers I have met this day." Then in a softer, confidential tone, she added, "I have found that the unexpected comes upon us unlooked for and at the least predictable of times, or so it hath seemed to me. In any case, I have been absent from these lands for a score and seven. None but the foresighted would have looked to my coming upon this particular day."

To this the lieutenant readily nodded in agreement, for he certainly enjoyed no gifts of precognition. Aforetime, he had seen Helluin but twice. The first time had been during his peoples' encampment in Lindon when she had arrived on the back of an Eagle after dropping an Easterling cavalryman and his horse from on high. The second time had been brief, when she had broken from the Host of Imladris and chased the Witch King from the field of Angmar ere pursuing him into the gloom of the north. He had been more than impressed in both instances, but had ne'er expected to see her again.

"Our chieftain Aranarth and his people enjoy the blessings of peace, and since thy last leave-taking from Eriador, he and his younger brother and sister have all found their bliss in matrimony," he said. "All hope for an heir to follow our lord, for already Artamir and Artanis have been so blessed. We are twice exiled, yet things might have gone worse."

Helluin nodded to him, hearing the confirmation of what Elrond had told.

"Peace is no mean blessing to those wearied by war," she told him. "In the end, 'tis the people that are the wealth of a kingdom, not its treasure or territory, and they are worth fighting to preserve. Me, thee, and thy lord have engaged fell foes and shed sweat and blood to safeguard the heart of what is good and just. I pray thee continue thus as I intend to do, and as many have done aforetime. We each have our parts to play, do we not?"

"Aye, that we do, Lady Helluin, and I shall not falter in my charge, nor fail to do my part as the needs of the times demand."

They nodded to each other and shared grins of fellowship. In declaring their commitment to a common purpose, the lieutenant felt not so o'erwhelmed, nor so o'erawed. Rather, he felt the kinship of comrades in arms, allied warriors meeting again after many years apart.

"I ride to Celenhár to pay my respects to Lord Níshír and his family, and if fortune favors me, to meet with the Laiquendi," she told him. "I would also pay my respects to Chieftain Aranarth and his family. Do they tarry oft in Celenhár?"

"Artamir and Artanis dwell in Celenhár where their spouses hold formal offices," the lieutenant said, "and the chieftain is oft there to take counsel with the king, when he is not afield o'erseeing the realm."

Helluin nodded to him in thanks for his tidings and then said, "I pray thee and thy company be well and safe in thy duties, good lieutenant. I thank thee again for thy greetings and welcome."

"I bid thee remain safe upon thy road, Lady Helluin," he said in parting. "The track south lies a score and six ahead. Farewell."

With that, he gestured his company forward and shortly they had disappeared east down the road heading towards Imladris. Helluin and Red resumed their ride west at an easy trot. They covered a couple more leagues ere stopping for the night, by which time Helluin reckoned that they were still perhaps twenty miles east of the track leading south to Celenhár. At their current pace, they would arrive comfortably on the 1st of Urui.

Now after passing an untroubled night, Helluin and Red started off again with the dawn, and after seven leagues, came to the southward track just ere noon. The site had grown into a sizeable way station with a far larger inn featuring a separate entrance for its common room, a stable, smithy, and workshops for the repair of wagons and tack, a market and bakery for the benefit of travelers, and several homes for the proprietors. From the count of horses hitched before the inn and the wagons parked to one side, 'twas obvious that many traveled the East Road. As she sat at the edge of the yard taking it all in, a company of a half-dozen riders arrived from the west, mixed Dúnedain and Rhudaurim, sharing friendly conversation as they dismounted and entered the common room to share a noon meal.

Helluin directed Red to the western side of the buildings and found the head of the road leading south. Rather than being hidden for its first half-mile, as it had been when she had first seen it five and a half centuries aforetime, now 'twas cleared and well traveled. It remained a dirt track, but 'twas broad enough for two wagons to pass abreast. She saw that the verges had been cut back so that none need duck 'neath an o'erhanging branch. Sites of previous outcrops had been excavated and filled, leaving the roadbed flat. The Noldo nodded in approval after marking the improvements that the Dúnedain had made.

City dwellers once and fore'er, she thought, they cannot resist leveling a grade or smoothing a trail. I am surprised that the buildings at the roadhead are so restrained. I would wager 'aught that no water puddles after storms or any washouts erode the paths.

All the structures she had seen were of hewn timbers atop fieldstone foundations, with thatched rooves surrounded by packed earth yards. It felt like any rural hamlet, yet there were subtle signs that civil engineers had been involved. Compared to what she remembered, the yards had been graded for drainage. The building layout was precise, preserving space for the unhindered passage of wagons and riders. The market stalls were arranged with care, those for crafts on the north side where the southern light would best compliment the wares, whilst those for produce were to the south with their frontage in shade to preserve fruits and vegetables. She wagered that e'ery wall in the way station was plumb, e'ery foundation true, the corners square and the floors level.

Shall we be stopping for a bite and a drink? Red asked, eyeing the water trough before the stable and the entrance to the common room.

After a few moments' thought, Helluin nodded 'aye' and dismounted. She walked Red o'er to the stable where he could drink and then went inside to speak with the ostler. She found him tossing hay down from the loft with a pitchfork.

"Hallo," she called out, "hast thee oats to sell?"

The ostler looked down whilst shaking stray straws from his shaggy head of hair. He set aside the pitchfork and drew a handkerchief from a pocket with which he patted perspiration from his forehead ere answering.

"Aye," he said, "if thou art not stabling a horse, then t'will be tuppence a bushel, otherwise, included with the stall."

"I need but a tenth stone¹ to add to forage," Helluin said. ¹(1/10th stone1.4 lbs. of oats…a bushel of oats would weight 32 lbs.)

"I shall not climb down from here to sell thee a tenth of a penny's worth of oats, young lady," he said, shaking his head. "Pray take them from that bin with the king's compliments."

He pointed to a tin-lined wooden bin, elevated on short legs located 'neath the stairs to the loft, then hefted his pitchfork and returned to his labor, giving the Noldo not a further glance.

Helluin shrugged and walked o'er to lift the lid. The bin was filled with perhaps five bushels of dried oats, the scent of which came to the Noldo's nose, and she deemed them free of mold and wholesome. She lifted the hem of her cloak and dumped several handfuls into the makeshift sack, called out her thanks to the ostler, (who received them with only a grunt), and then left the stable.

Upon returning to Red, his eyes lit with desire when she showed him the oats. Alas, she had neither bucket nor nosebag.

If thou would be so kind as to indulge me, Red said, offering a grin.

Helluin groaned, but stood still holding out the hem of her cloak to form a makeshift feed trough. Red set his nose o'er the oats and lipped them into his mouth. After chewing a while, he moaned with pleasure.

Ne'er shall I tire of these, he muttered 'twixt mouthfuls. Helluin rolled her eyes, but held still.

Eventually he finished them off with a smacking of his lips. Helluin shook out her cloak, then doffed it and draped it o'er Red's back. She added her bow and quiver and stalked off towards the entrance of the common room, muttering, "if thou would be so kind as to indulge me…"

Within the common room, Helluin found a full throng of diners occupying e'ery table. She finally found a seat at the further end of the bar, close by the entrance to the kitchen where she was treated to the clamor of cooks and servers, the clatter of dishes, the scraping of pots and pans, and the splashing of water in the scullery. She groaned and cast her eyes to the chalkboard menu o'er the shelves of spirits, racks of glassware, and tapped kegs lining the wall behind the bar. Having made a selection, she awaited the approach of a harried barkeep who finally reached her after the tenth part of an hour's wait.

"Pray excuse the delay, m'lady, 'tis a full crowd that has gathered this day for their luncheon," he said, shaking his head as if surprised by the wealth of patronage. He drew and slid a mug of ale 'cross the bar to her, saying, "Pray accept this to slake thy thirst with my apologies."

In the split-second ere he turned away to answer the beckoning of another diner, Helluin voiced her selection even ere sampling the ale.

"I beg thee provide me with a bowl of thy stewed chickens, a small loaf with butter, and a chef's salad."

He tarried just long enough to offer her a nod of confirmation and then hastened to attend the half-dozen riders she had seen arriving earlier.

Whilst she awaited the appearance of her food, Helluin surveyed the other diners. They seemed a well-behaved company despite being seated cheek by jowl and occupying e'ery seat. A company of Rangers had pushed a couple tables together in a corner and were speaking softly 'twixt themselves o'er mugs and the remains of a meal. 'Round them, tradesmen, craftsmen, farmers, and other travelers enjoyed the fare. Unlike the throngs she recalled from Osgiliath or Bree, they were subdued. None shouted or called out 'cross the room. None sang in inebriated merriment. She heard laughter and jesting, but 'twas restrained and meant for the ears of those sharing a table, not for the company as a whole. Perhaps the atmosphere waxed boisterous after dark.

Of the greatest interest to her was a company of seven Dwarves hunched o'er a table 'cross the room 'neath some windows. They were cloaked in dark colors and had their hoods drawn up as if to retain some illusion of privacy. By chance one looked up o'er the rim of his mug and met her eyes. She set a hand o'er her heart and offered him a dip of her head. He returned the gesture of greeting, and then reengaged his companions in conversation as Helluin turned back to the bar. She deemed that would be the end of that, yet she was mistaken. Shortly later, the same Dwarf appeared at her side and bowed.

"Pray excuse my interruption, noble warrior, but I could not ignore the possibility of settling a dispute that arose amongst my companions at thy entrance a short while ago," he said in competent Sindarin.

Helluin gave him a nod and said, "I am happy to share speech with thee, noble son of Durin. I have 'naught else to occupy myself with 'til my food arrives. Pray speak thy peace and perhaps thy dispute may be answered."

He offered a nod of thanks and a restrained smile, and then asked, "Art thou that Noldo long known amongst my people as the Mórgolodh? Thy armor is of Dwarf make I am sure, and wrought by craftsmen of old if my eyes deceive me not. If I am correct, then thou must indeed be she, for no other amongst thy people have we equipped thus. As well, thou bear the ring-blade and the black sword, both known to us from lore."

To reply, Helluin switched o'er to the Khuzdul she had learnt long ago, speaking softly and pitching her words for his ears alone. His eyes widened to hear her speaking the tongue of the Dwarves, yet this more than her armor laid any doubts to rest. His people had taught their language to so few of other races that by its use alone, she proved her claim.

"I am indeed known as the Mórgolodh, a title given to me long ago by Gneiss son of Gnoss, the illustrious maker of this armor. Thou hast a sharp eye and knowledge of lore, my esteemed acquaintance."

"Then I am pleased to meet thee, most noble ally and friend of our people," he said. 'This is a chance hardly to be believed, to meet thus one so honored in our history at a simple tavern upon the road from Eriador."

"I have but recently returned to these lands, my new friend. T'would seem that thy company are to take thy leave?" She nodded to the table where his companions waited.

"Aye, we are heading east o'er the pass. Did thou come west by that way?"

"Indeed so," Helluin replied. "A week past, I forded Anduin after crossing the forest from the east. I rode alone and found no signs of Yrch or Wargs. I deem the pass safe for thee and thy company."

"Thy tidings I appreciate greatly, my celebrated friend," he said with a broad smile. "My companions' worries shall be eased by thy words. We have a long journey ahead and shall be glad to begin it in safety."

"I rode all the way from furthest Rhûn and was glad to end my journey in safety," Helluin said, offering a smile.

The Dwarf chuckled at that and said, "We are bound for Erebor. Word reached us in the Ered Luin that our lord Thráin has founded a new settlement there in our old outpost and great works are to begin. We go to offer our skills to help raise a new realm."

Helluin raised a brow at those tidings, for Elrond had not spoken of them. Perhaps they were unknown in Imladris. The Gonnhirrim were not known for publishing their affairs to other kindreds, preferring to keep their business to themselves.

"Aforetime, I had heard only that the Lord Thráin had taken his leave of Khazad-dûm after the fall of his father." Helluin dipped her head a moment to honor Náin I. "Whilst in Imladris, I had the impression that the Lord Thráin still sought for new mansions in the northern Hithaeglir. Was the renewal of Erebor a recent event?"

"In the Ered Luin we only heard tidings of the establishment of Erebor a year past. Lord Thráin entered the Lonely Mountain in late 1999. For months he did 'naught but survey the delving and make sure that his companions were comfortable and safe. 'Twas not 'til 2001 that he called for others of our kindred to join him. T'would seem our king's words took o'er a year to reach us, but hearing his call, many of us have undertaken the journey."

"I understand the desire to serve Lord Durin's heir and to raise a new kingdom in memory of Khazad-dûm that is lost," she said. "I wish thee safe passage on thy journey and hope Mahal blesses thy endeavor so that Erebor prospers for ten thousand years."

He dipped his head to honor her words and in thanks for her good wishes. They carried weight, coming from such an ancient friend and ally of his people.

"I thank thee, Mórgolodh, as many amongst us have done in years past. I thank thee too for speaking the right name of our lost realm…most of us hate hearing it called 'Moria'."

"I knew Durin's mansions only as Khazad-dûm for fifty-two centuries," Helluin said, offering him a sorrowful shake of her head. "'Tis hard for me to accept the new name when weighed against so many years of memories…perhaps I shall in a few thousand years…"

This elicited a chuckle from the Dwarf, but seeing from the corner of his eye a server coming from the kitchen, he bid Helluin farewell and after offering a parting bow, left her to her meal.

The server came straightaway to set Helluin's meal on the bar ere withdrawing after offering her a smile. The Noldo dug in, feeling her hunger and not wishing to make Red wait o'erly long. She ate in silence at a steady pace 'til all was consumed. A second glance at the chalkboard allowed her to recalculate the cost, which she covered with a few coins from her travel bag. Finally, she rose from her seat, caught the barkeep's eye and cast her glance to the coins, then offered him a nod and took her leave. By then, the common room had grown less crowded as the early diners had finished their meals and left ahead of her. The companies of Rangers and Dwarves were already gone.

Returning to the courtyard, Helluin found Red bidding farewell to the Rangers' horses with whom he had apparently kept company during her absence. Some of the riders cast glances to her and her horse, but tarried not, nor engaged her with questions. She reckoned they had wondered most about her bow, recognizably Númenórean in style and rare amongst others who had not served as archers of Arthedain. She watched as they passed away west down the road and then she came to Red.

"I am glad to see thou hast passed the time with good company," she said. "Hast thou heard 'aught of tidings from them?"

They were indeed good company, O Helluin, he said silently, and they speak of riding the East Road west so far as the crossroads south of Fornost and finding 'naught but folk at peace. They were foaled and have lived all their lives in the wide lands of Eriador, ne'er knowing the city as their sires and dams once did, and so they are happy, having open land to roam and riders who take good care of them and answer their needs. 'Tis strange to me, but they seem not to miss the thrill of battle. How can they be warhorses as they deem themselves, without riding to war?

"I suppose they may claim that title so long as they are trained and willing to carry their riders into battle if need be," she said. "That they live in a land and time blessed with peace is not their fault."

Red nodded to this, accepting her words. Being a warhorse was as much spiritual as practical.

So now we shall proceed south, O Helluin?

"Indeed so, O Red, and in a day and a half, we shall come to the ancient town of Celenhár."

Now they did indeed ride south. Helluin noted the increase in settlements and outlying hamlets and farms. Though far from crowded, 'twas more populous than what she recalled from her last trip to Celenhár following her defeat of Tindomul in the Cold Fells in Ivanneth of 1975. Several times that day, they passed or met wagons, carts, riders, and even some afoot traveling from one settlement to another. The volume of traffic had increased with the population, and the people she saw were equally likely to be Dúnedain or Rhudaurim. So too were the settlers she glimpsed from the road, whether tending their holdings or haggling at the markets. There seemed little distinction 'twixt the long-time natives and the new émigrés for they interacted equally.

Now they spent the night encamped in a field alongside the track. If any were aware of them, none seemed to care, for they were not hailed and none visited. Helluin had shot a coney and set a trench fire o'er which to roast it, hoping that perhaps some of the Laiquendi would appear, but save for Red, she passed the night alone 'neath Ithil's new crescent and a multitude of stars. Though a hint of disappointment lingered in the morning, the Noldo dismissed it and they set out again shortly after dawn.

That day, being 1 Urui, saw Helluin and Red complete their ride to Celenhár. Two miles short of the road leading into town, Helluin directed Red off the main track and down a footpath, then 'cross an uncultivated field 'til she came to the graveyard. There she dismounted, leaving Red to follow at his own pace whilst she walked a path of memory to a plot of graves encircled by a low, wrought-iron fence.

Within that cordon stood a vertical slab o'er Man high and a lower marker bearing the weathered symbol of the House of Baragund. Upon the taller stone, just to be read after the passing of so many years, was carved the inscription 'Galor son of Galion, Nelchaen a Lefnui Aran Eriador', with the dates b.1442-d.1529. Upon the other stone was inscribed 'Lainiel Hílil Dúrrél, Adaneth en Herth Erui Dorthonion', with the dates b.F.A.-d.1534.

Helluin stood motionless before the markers as evening drew down. Eventually, Red shambled o'er and looked at the stones. Curious, he asked after them of Helluin.

They were known upon a time to thee, O Helluin? Who were they, pray tell?

Old friends, Helluin said silently, having shifted her gaze from the graves to meet the Easterling horse's eyes. The tall stone marks the grave of Galor, Lord of Celenhár, and to his great astonishment, the 35th King of Eriador. Beside him rests his wife, Lainiel, whom my beloved and I discovered as an orphaned babe amidst her slaughtered family. She was the Lady of the First House of the Atani, ancestors of the Númenórean kings.

Very impressive they must have been, he said.

They were indeed, and yet for all the ancientry of their lineages, they were unaffected by their nobility, ne'er holding themselves above their people. The folk of Celenhár and Cardolan loved them and they were honored in Fornost and Imladris.

And now we go to meet their descendants?

Aye, including a daughter of the First House who claims the Lady Lainiel's name anew. The Lord Elrond tells that she is much like her namesake. I deem she has much to live up to, but we shall see and soon.

Red nodded and asked, she accompanies those who encircle us?

Rather than answering his query, Helluin turned from the stones to face the town and the hidden company of Rangers that had crept 'nigh with stealth.

"Hail and well met, Rangers of Rhudaur. I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel, long a friend and ally to Celenhár. After honoring my old friends, I would greet thy lords and ladies, Níshír, Brithil, Gwíthír, Athelrian, and Brennil, and such of the Dunedin who may accompany them, for I am known to them all."

The Noldo stood still with arms spread to show her empty hands, and she projected a dim glow of silver and gold so that she was clearly visible in the fading light. Slowly, one by one, the company of Rangers broke cover and stood, arrows fitted on the strings of their bows, but held pointed to the ground. Helluin took their measure one after another, marking them and then fixing her gaze on the detail commander, a young sergeant who was probably in knee pants when she had last taken her leave of the town. He bore her gaze as he studied her, comparing what he saw with what he had learnt from lore, the ancient Dwarf armor, the Black Sword, and the Ring Blade, the lustrous black hair, pale skin, and glowing blue eyes.

Finally, he seemed to nod to himself and spoke, saying, "Hail and well met, Helluin Úlairdacil, friend and ally of kings. T'would be our honor to accompany thee into town, for 'tis not oft that a legend from our history appears unheralded amidst the graves."

The Rangers replaced their arrows in their quivers and formed up in a double row. Red followed Helluin to take a place beside the sergeant at the head of the column, and together they walked past the increasingly recent graves towards the town on its low rise beside the river Idethol.

To Be Continued