The last sentence of the chapter is slightly M-rated for this upcoming big reveal, but the origins here are purely canon in Tolkien material (and a huge spoiler). I'm actually pretty nervous to finally bring it to light because it might cause some mixed reactions here, but let's just say readers probably won't look at my OC characters quite the same way again.
Most of you who read the Silmarillion are actually quite familiar with these characters, and their fate is actually in the spoiler warning in the notes down below, hence why I won't list it here.
Keep in mind that I Do Not Own Tolkien's work and his characters.
"We'll stop here for a breath," announced Thorin to the Company, as they gathered under the shade of a lone tree standing slightly away from the others. "Gather your strength. Check your provisions. There is twenty leagues ahead of us before we reach the mountains. Without the ponies this time, if we keep going by foot, we will begin treading the foothills after night fall. Dainsons, I will have a word with you."
It was another hour before the group stopped at the outstretch of green land passing through a cluster of mountain rocks.
There were the grassy hills of the lone lands and turrets of trees remaining. The last reminisces of Rhudaur lead on toward the foothills of the Misty Mountains, now less than sixty miles ahead. Just enough of a distance to outrun any elf that may or may not chase after them…but still close enough for the Dainsons to walk back without getting lost.
Thorin still could not believe that the young humans managed to catch up with them on time. Or, more accurately, that his own nephews made it necessary to warn them of their secret departure and that the Dainsons still decided to leave the safety of Rivendell for the dangerous and unpredictable quest.
Maia Dainson is the oldest, he thought, as he led all three of the young Mannish children off to the far side, away from prying ears. It is her responsibility to make the decision for them. She ought to know better.
If he had his way, Thorin would have left Bilbo Baggins behind, as well. But the hobbit was their hired burglar, signed under contract (for one specific purpose on this quest), so leaving him behind just to satisfy his own doubts toward the small creature's capabilities was out of the question. The Dainsons were another story.
He could feel the three of them lingering almost unsurely behind him, still half-dressed and half-groomed from practically tearing out of their beds hours ago.
Lori had already been awake over an hour ago, not far from the exiting the trail that led them out of the valley and into more rural terrains.
The little girl had been bleary-eyed and confused, when she woke up in Fili's arms in the middle of the wilds. With her hair a curly mess and her form still dressed in pajamas, she had looked around, blinking her big brown eyes, and asked why they were not in Rivendell anymore. Apparently she hadn't been fully aware of what had been happening when her siblings scooped up everything they owned, including their littlest sibling, and dashed out the door.
When Fili, Maia, and Kyle gave her a brief, albeit uncomfortable, explanation on what had happened when she drifted off, Lori seemed to remember. She had been upset, of course, her squeaky voice whining about wanting everyone to stay in Rivendell. And by everyone, she meant the dwarves, Bilbo, and her siblings.
"I didn't even get to say good-bye," she had wailed, when Maia had been the one to explain why they left.
It didn't have to be that way, Thorin thought.
If he convinced the young Mannish siblings to turn around and go back to the elves, then it would be reasonable decision-making. It would be right for them, and safe. There would be farewells and little Miss Lori would still have to face the parting of dear friends she had gotten to know far longer than the elves, but she will get over it. Small children were easily distracted that way…mostly.
For all the faults Thorin held against the elves, he had to admit that the lord of Imladris, for all his stiff demeanor and the infuriatingly silent judgement in his sharp gaze, had proven to be different than the ones he used to know. King Thranduil, more specifically. He seemed wiser and more open-minded, even if he had voiced his disagreement against the quest.
The Dainsons would be better off in Rivendell.
Fili and Kili would be upset, and some others of the Company, but they would understand. Even if they didn't, they won't disobey his command.
When Thorin finally turned to face them, it seemed that each one of the young Mannish siblings tensed up, as if mentally preparing for an argument that they sensed was brewing.
"This is as far we go, until a decision can be made," he told them, looking each of them in the eye.
Maia's face seemed equally as hardened. "Oh, so now we're having this discussion?" she snapped. "You were the ones who were about to leave us behind! Y'all didn't really leave us much of a choice!" Kyle was fuming, still looking angry, and Lori was pouting, both seeming to support their sister's claim.
"Do not turn this me!" Thorin growled, pointing at her. "I specifically recall the agreement that the three of you would be traveling with the wizard, not with the Company. You are not under contract, or any obligation to follow us into peril, so we are not required to warn you of anything we do!"
"This is about a contract?" demanded Maia, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable! Y'all had a whole day to give us a heads up! Even if we did end up staying, you could have at least had the courtesy to let us know so we could say good-bye! If it weren't for Fili and Kili––"
"Fili and Kili's insubordination will cost them a punishment of their own taking with you along," Thorin returned sternly. "As such, they will be the ones to escort you back to the Ford."
"The hell they are!" yelled Kyle suddenly, face red with rage. Thirteen other heads shot up in alert in the background when they heard the boy's raised voice. He stepped forward, defiantly. "We're not going anywhere but forward, whether you like it or not!"
"Watch your tone, boy!" Thorin warned him.
"You can't just force us to go back!"
"I can and I will!"
"Screw you!"
"Kyle, hey—" Maia tried to placate her brother, but Kyle violently shook her off.
"No! I mean it!" he growled. "This isn't fair! He's the one who kept saying elves couldn't be trusted, and yet he tries to dump us on them? We all decided that we were gonna reach our destination together! We were all gonna this to the end! This could really be our only way home and he's trying to prevent us from trying!" He pointed at Thorin. "Even after all we been through, we're nothing but chopped liver to you, aren't we?"
Thorin refused to acknowledge how that accusation stung a little bit.
"You are children," he roared, causing the kids to flinch back slightly. His eyes shot from Little Lori to Kyle to Maia. "Babes! Younglings! Under-aged! This is not a game! There are many who have argued this quest to be a suicide mission. Despite what those nay-sayers claim, myself and a select few were chosen for a reason! You think you are the only younglings who have wanted to come along and be disappointed? You would think after what we have been through that it would breached that naïvetee of yours! For all we know, it could get worse from hereon out, and you would still risk life and death for a hunch?" He glared at Maia. "This is your responsibility, Miss Dainson. You are the eldest. If you do not think this through now, you will be risking more than your own life on this quest. If not for us, you won't be able to protect them."
"I can!" Maia insisted heatedly. "And I will!"
Thorin shook his head with a scoff. "You are no fighter!" He refuted from adding that their burglar wasn't either.
"I've been practicing! That's why you've been training us, right?" She patted the twin elvish daggers at her side. "I'm getting adjusted to these, alright? And Kyle…" Maia gestured at her brother. "You saw him! He was able to take down a warg—a giant wolf all by himself!" Her brother nodded, a hint of pride reflecting from his eyes as he straightened up.
"With my sword," Thorin pointed out.
"My point still stands. Look, I'm not saying we'd choose fight over flight in normal situations, because fine, you're right! Kyle and Lori shouldn't be out here where there's danger!"
"What—Mai—" Kyle began to protest with Lori, but the young woman placed one of each hand on their shoulders, giving them a knowing look. Their mouths snapped shut, letting her finish.
"But this may be our only chance, Thorin," Maia said, turning back to the leader of the dwarves, who was still listened with narrowed eyes. "As lovely and safe as Rivendell was, and the people occupying it, we don't know them half as well as we've gotten to know you, and we don't trust in them like we do with y'all. And…" She sighed through her nose. "If it were any other situation, then yes, it probably would have been our best bet to stay and find answers. I'm probably out of mind right now for even thinking about bringing Lori along."
She placed a hand on top of her baby sister's head, rubbing through her dark curls as the little girl looked up at her.
"But there is one thing I know for certain: I'm not about to leave either of them behind," she said. "Not when we're in another world we know so little about. If we ever do split up at some point—temporarily, mind you—it's not gonna be any further than a day's ride away at most. End of discussion."
"You forget one thing," said Thorin, gritting his teeth. "Whether it's question of whether you are considered an adult or not, Maia Dainson, what makes you think that we won't drag you back to the valley ourselves?"
"You—" Kyle opened his mouth, but Maia tightened his grip on his shoulder, frowning.
"I don't think you will," she said. "Kyle told Lori and I about the moon runes. You've got less than a handful of months to reach the hidden door, right? You'll just be wasting more time and energy trying to get us to stay where we are. And besides that, how do you know the elves won't hesitate to prevent anyone here from leaving?"
Thorin bristled. His own words against him. "If I did not know any better," he said softly, "I'd say you were attempting to threaten me."
Maia shook her head, remaining calm…and maybe a tad smug, the brat. "I'm just saying," she said with a shrug, "if you found it necessary to sneak out so early in the morning without anybody knowing, then it definitely means you're pretty sure that they will stop the quest from continuing. And even if you just send a few dwarves out to 'escort' us back…" She air-quoted 'escort' for emphasis, "then you'll be down a few more if they do end up getting restrained."
"They will not hesitate to fight them off, if needed," Thorin growled.
Kyle shrugged, shifting his feet, though he looked more relaxed than before. "Yeeeeaaah, but after feeding us their food, giving us shelter, and helping us read the map?" He counted on his fingers as he spoke. "Not to mention taking a nude bath in their fountain?" He clicked his tongue, looking achingly smug himself as he nodded. "Sounds like y'all owe them quite a bit."
"I did not bathe in the fountain, mind you," Thorin said cuttingly. But the lad did make a fair point. For any excuse he would have to antagonize an elf, his honor got the better of him. The elves of Imladris had hosted their guests with grace, much to his reluctance in receiving their treatment. And while the Dainsons probably knew next to nothing about dwarven laws, it bordered very closely on the matter of repaying one host with well-due respect. Despite what his grandfather…
He sighed heavily, shutting his eyes.
No, he thought. That had been the beginnings of gold-sickness back then…and as far he was concerned, King Thranduil deserved neither respect nor repayment. Not then, or now.
Then, when he opened them, his blue eyes were full of fire when he looked at the Dainsons. "Very well," he murmured, not quite believing he was agreeing to this. "You may continue with us."
Maia, Kyle, and Lori all began to brighten up in cheer, but he cut them off with a glare. "However, all three of you must stay close to either of the Company at all times. You will learn to fight, to hunt, to help with chores, whether it be washing Bombur's dishes or managing Oin and Gloin's inventory…" The children kept nodding in agreement to his terms, when he added, "and you must keep up until I give the word to stop. I will not hear any complaining for petty reasons other than serious injury. Not only are we back in the wilds, we are about to hike the steepest and highest trails of the Misty Mountains. Since we will be walking on foot, it will take us a few weeks to make the crossing across the high and low cliffs, and there will be a higher risk of goblins, orcs, beasts, and giants."
"Giants?" squeaked Lori with a gasp, while her brother and sister blinked in shock.
"Stone giants," Thorin nodded with a serious expression, though a part his mouth twitched at the idea of legendary creatures coming to life as this early season. The mentions of these beings being still existing today were as laughable as the idea of were-worms from foreign lands tunneling under their feet.
Ignoring the wide eyed stares Maia, Kyle, and Lori were giving him, as if trying to determine whether he was joking or not, he hoisted the furred lining of his coat.
"Keep your weapons close," he told them as walking away to rejoin the Company, before adding, "and your wits even closer."
Before following Thorin back to rejoin the group, all three of the Dainsons let out a breath of relief. Kyle nudged Maia. "Hey, way to go!" He grinned.
Maia grinned back, before reaching over to ruffle his hair. "You didn't do so bad yourself." Her brother good-naturedly batted her hand away with a snort.
"So, we're going?" Lori said excitedly.
Maia nodded. "Yes, Lori," she said. "The adventure continues."
Deep down, her stomach gave an anxious twist. Though they had won the argument, she still could not help the words sticking close to her conscience like tree sap on bark.
This is your responsibility, Miss Dainson. You are the eldest. If you do not think this through now, you will be risking more than your own life on this quest. If not for us, you won't be able to protect them.
No matter what happens, you have to look after your brother and sister. You're responsible for them.
Thorin's words. Her dad's final words to her. They each cut to the core. To the part of her that questioned her capabilities of doing so for the first part of their quest.
Biting her lip, Maia threw her arms around both the shoulders of her siblings, tightening her hold on them as they walked back to rejoin the group. Everyone was looking at them.
When she found Fili's worried eyes, she gave a reassuring smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt.
In reply, Fili smiled back. Next to him, Kili also got the message and laughed aloud, thumping his brother good-naturedly in the arm. Bofur whooped, flipping his hat into the air, Ori and Nori also laughed aloud next to the uncertain Dori, and Balin gave a good-humored chuckle, taking his head with a sigh. Some others did not seem so excited—though more worried than upset—but they too gave uncertain smiles. Even Bilbo, the sunlight seeming to light up his encouraging smile.
The Dainsons were continuing the quest for Erebor with them.
Maia bit her lip, keeping the small smile on her face.
I will do better, she vowed to herself. I will protect them, and come hell or high water, we will all reach Erebor together.
She could only pray to God that she hadn't made the wrong choice.
Having left the upper gazebo, Gandalf followed Galadriel.
Just beyond the Hall of Fire nestled the dining hall, where the previous night it been filled with elves dressed in colored garments to celebrate the first full passage of summer, lead passages leading to the main library, where also in the back corners dwelled two offices—the main Lord's, of whom was Elrond, and the Scribe's, of whom was Erestor. The latter of whom had access to the main archives, where the most restricted records in the form of maps, scrolls, letters, drawings, journal entries, and documents were kept under lock and key.
There, in the center of the room, with the light shining brightly through the high arched open windows of the lord's office, awaited Elrond and Saruman.
Saruman looked upright, his patience starting to thin through his tall composure matching the length of his staff. Elrond had been pacing the room, up until he spotted the gray wizard and the Lady of Lothlorien, and nodded in greeting.
At that same moment, another tall elf lord entered the room briskly, carrying a few sets of scroll holsters in one arm. He was tall, though shorter than Elrond. His hair was long, black and loose like his robes and the grayness of his long-lashed eyes. He had a smooth, feline beauty in his narrow features, like most of the Eldar, but for the slight thickness in his arched brows that were often pinched together with stress when riled up. Another feature he shared with Elrond as distant kin.
"You are right on time, it seems," exclaimed the dark haired elf, before promptly placing the scrolls on the table with a clutter. He then bowed his head respectively to Gandalf and Galadriel with a hand placed on his chest, before sending a gesture. "My Lady. Mithrandir."
"Erestor," greeted Gandalf with a smile, though he was surprised Erestor skipped his usual formal greetings. Normally the chief councilor of Elrond's household was strictly self-conscience with his speech, almost as much as he was with the tasks he has been given in both running the house and filling its paperwork. "Mae govannen. We have not had a chance to run into each other."
"Taxes. Preparations. The busiest time of the year, Yuletide aside." Erestor scoffed, as he began to undo the cap of one of the holsters. "Meanwhile, in a span of three days, with little time to formally present myself, I hear about the comings and goings of thirteen dwarves, three Mannish younglings, a halfling, and a wizard…yet here remains the wizard. Two of them, and the surprising arrival of two other members of the White Council during a night of celebration.
"Then, even further to my surprise…" Erestor narrowed a side look at Elrond, whom under his composed mask tried not to look too amused at his chief councilor's grumbling, "I am greeted by my lord this early morning with the sudden request to bring out some of the most privately guarded records I specifically recall was forbidden to be shared by anyone other than specific individuals, only to now bring it to the light of day without a proper explanation!"
"I told you, Erestor," sighed Elrond. "I will explain it to you soon enough…and this will not become public knowledge. That order remains unchanged."
"The time has come for this knowledge to be shared knowledge within the council," said Galadriel. "All that will be discussed will not leave this room, save for a certain few that will one day inherit that right."
Erestor looked from Galadriel to Elrond in confusion. Elrond nodded to him. "It is true," he said, and the meaning seemed to make Erestor eyes widen slightly, tightening his jaw.
"Then the boy…he survived?" the councilor whispered softly.
Elrond sighed again. "For a time. Now…we do not know…but we believe for certain now that his children have."
As if taking the time to process this new spark of information, a paler faced Erestor looked down at the scroll scattered on the table in front of him. Then, straightening up and composing his features once more, he gently pushed a few aside and selected one red-leathered holster. The emblem on the edge was that of flames, two crossed swords, and a helm in the center.
Everyone watched as Erestor carefully slipped the scroll outside the holster—the edge of the parchment yellowed with age and cracked, like most of the other ancient documents of ages past—and very carefully spread the the long paper on the table.
Gandalf and Saruman stepped up together to look down at the aged scroll splayed on the table…and after a long few minutes for reading, two breaths were sucked in at once.
.
On the yellowed parchment of the long scroll beheld a massive family tree of names and dates.
One would have thought Elrond pulled out his own family tree, given how many connections his bloodline had to all the noble houses of Men and Elves from the First Age, which also included the Ainur if one counted Queen Melian of Doriath*. Or young Estel's family tree from his forefather Elros Tar-Minyataur* to the preceding great kings of Númenor, and from the Lords of Andúnië* to the rulers of Gondor and Arnor.
And so it was…but there was more. Much more.
From the bottom of a separate set of family tree branches was Aravír. He was the last recorded descendant of House Laurenárë (before Maia, Kyle, and Laureline, of course), while Aragorn's line descended directly from the House of Andúnië: the sister-lines of Silmariën* and Isilmë*, daughters of Tar-Elendil*, who were all descendants of Tuor*.
As the line went further up, the list of the longer-lived Númenorean descendants sprawled out in red and blue ink (some of whom Gandalf had personally met throughout the Third Age during the war of Angmar).
Aravír (b. TA 2739) was the son of Ragnór (b. TA 2239-2747) and Eryn (b. TA 2707-2747), a young Dúnedain woman said to be the adopted-daughter of Arassuil*, who was Chieftain of the Dúnedain at the time.
Young Master Aravír's death was unknown. The date was written in a question mark around 2747 of the Third Age, the year of the Battle of the Greenfields, when Bandobras "Bullroarer" Took took the head of the goblin king and won them the entire victory of North Farthing. The same year both of his parents had fallen.
He had only just turned eight years old when he was lost.
Ragnór was the son of Egnór (b. TA 1646-sometime before 2747) and Ivorwen (b. TA 2210-2350), a highborn noblewoman of Gondor.
Egnór was the son of Morwen (b. TA 15-sometime before 1700) and a Dúnedain man of Arnor, whose name was lost from the records.
He had two older siblings who never made it past their first year into the world. Gandalf easily recalled the years of their birth taking place during the Great Plague, which had wiped out nearly all the kingdoms of the Dúnedain. The firstborn son of Morwen was unnamed, and her daughter Niënor (b. TA 1636-1637) had only lasted a few months before succumbing to the sickness. Morwen had called her son Egnór her miracle child, being the only survivor of her babies to grow to adulthood and continue the line.
Morwen was the daughter of Rúinar (b. SA 1874-sometime before TA 500) and a Númenorean woman of the Faithful.
Rúinar had three sons and Morwen three brothers, two older and one younger: Eäradhir (b. TA 1-1636), Ardamír (b. TA 5-1636), and Melduin II (b. TA 20-1638). These brothers had all been wiped out, during the Great Plague or in the war against Angmar, their sister being the only one to come out of it alive with their nephew, the surviving hope of House Laurenárë.
Rúinar was the son of Òrenaro (b. SA 980-3319).
Òrenaro was the son of Lindissë Vanimórie (b. SA 592-sometime before 3102 or 3177).
Lindissë was the firstborn daughter of Melduin Peredain (b. SA 518-3319) and Isilmë* (b. SA 532-943), the youngest daughter of Tar-Elendil* from the line of Elros, and the sister of Silmariën, Lady of Andúnië, and Tar-Meneldur, the fifth king of Númenor.
Lindissë had two younger sisters: Withylindë Curuni (b. SA 600-3255), who had two children of her own—Moromir (b. SA 990-sometime after 1556) and Irmelda (b. SA 1000-3318)—and Melvairë (b. SA 610-TA 1) who remained unwed and childless.
Most of it, Gandalf already knew. He knew who Melduin had married into the line of Elros by wedding the princess Isilmë, who in turn became the First Lady of Laurenárë. The two of them had three children, all of them daughters, who also lived nearly as long as their father, inheriting his unnaturally long lifespan due to the Maiar blood passed down from both of their parents combined.
Isilmë had died of old age past her fourth century and a decade, and while two of her oldest daughters seemed to be nearing the end of their life by the time of their death. Alas, from what Gandalf had learned, they had instead met their tragic end to the cruelty of corrupt Númenorean rulers after their father had been banished from the island.
Melvairë was the only known survivor of Melduin and Isilmë's children, but her fate from after the island's sinking became unknown when she vanished.
Withlylindë's daughter, Irmelda, was also brutally murdered with many of the Faithful during the tyrannical rule of Ar-Pharazôn*, while her brother Moromir had exiled himself to Middle-earth at a fairly young age for one of his kin, taking with him the two "unnamed daughters" of Tar-Anárion*, who were also of Elros' bloodline.
Based on their shared birthdate, the two unnamed daughters were twins: Anmarië** and Telmariel**, the older sisters of Tar-Súrion* and the granddaughters of Tar-Ancalimë*.
(This was the first documented family tree Gandalf has seen their names on recorded paper, when it had been blotted out from others).
With Telmariel, she and Moromir had one son: Eremo Gimilìbeth (b. SA 1340-3177). Based on the dotted lines between his mother and sire's names, he was illegitimate.
Eremo's line, unfortunately, would eventually intertwine with those of the King's Men, who would eventually turn to the service of Sauron as the Black Númenoreans. Among his most notorious descendants were the names Fuinur* and Herumor*, who were both powerful dark magicians in their own time, and the most infamous of all being Queen Berùthiel*, whose own black magic had spread far and wide throughout Gondor.
But this private lineage of the lords and ladies of Laurenárë was not what left the appalled feeling in Gandalf's heart.
Melduin Peredain was the son of Sîrlindë Amarthiel (b. FA 500-547) and a Maia whose name remain anonymous for unknown reasons. Based on the dotted lines between them, he too was labeled illegitimate.
Later on, Sîrlindë had married a man from the still-standing village of Brethil called Halataur (b. FA 500), who was actually the son of Hûnthor* of the Haladin, who had been killed during the battle with the dragon, Glaurang, before his son was born.
Together, Sîrlindë and Halataur had a son and a daughter, Melduin's younger half-siblings, called Halmir (b. FA 528) and Haradeth (b. FA 532). Their bloodlines would go in separate directions: Halmir's bloodline would settle somewhere in the far south, while Haradeth's children and grandchildren would eventually go with Melduin to Númenor to become followers of Elros Tar-Minyataur and his lady-queen, receiving the gifted lifespan of their fellow brethren.
And yet, when Gandalf's eyes landed on the names of Sîrlindë's parents…
It cannot be...
He looked at Elrond in disbelief, who was watching him with a carefully blank expression.
A child born from a curse, wrought with tragedy and deception. Of incest…
…for Sîrlindë was the child of Turin Turambar* (b. FA 464-499) and his sister, Niënor Níniel* (b. FA 473-499), and the niece of their long-deceased sister, Urwen Lalaith (b. FA 466-469).
The children of Húrin.
To Be Continued...
Warning: Contains briefly mentioned incest
Most of the family tree I have created are purely Original Characters I have created. The ones who are footnoted are real canon characters from J.R.R. Tolkien's material, or unnamed characters given names for the sake of connections (like the two unnamed sisters of Tar-Súrion).
So...what do you think?
*Canon characters or Houses
**Canon unnamed characters