The promised Chapter is here!
To msg839: Yes, I'm back! I'm glad you like it :)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, setting or plots of the Silmarillion or any other related works by Tolkien.
Enjoy!
Chapter Eight
380 F.A.
'We must trade for new livestock from Hithlum. Degor should never have let his ox of a son with that much responsibility…
But no matter we will need to put all our efforts into the harvest now… Did you already look over the reported storage of North Ladros?'
Andreth looked up from the scroll in front of her.
'Not yet. Elwen and I planned on going over all of the inventories tomorrow.'
Her father nodded, pulling a small grimace as he took up another report.
'Everything will be fine, Father. We already have enough for the winter. The loss of the sheep is not ideal, but we will recover.
I already wrote Degor to tell his shepherds to return from Ard-Galen, there won't be any more losses…'
Boromir relaxed only slightly. He stopped his pacing to walk to Andreth's spot at the desk and gave her work a scrutinising look. Andreth opted to just ignore him.
Autumn was always the most stressful time of the year. During this season, her father always seemed to become increasingly critical of every little thing she did.
However, she had grown used to it by now. The preparation for winter was going along fine. Conscious of his stare following every little number she marked down in their inventory, she finished her final report on the wood supply from Taur-na-Foen.
She looked up into her father's face. The deep lines in his forehead and the bruised skin under his eyes betrayed his worry. Hesitantly, she offered him a soft smile.
Leaning back from his hovering position next to her, her father let out a deep sigh.
'I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt you any longer. You have everything already taken care of.'
Andreth carefully began cleaning her quill and putting the ink and parchment away, before she answered him.
'It is alright. I know these last weeks have been… very frustrating.'
In response, Boromir let out an amused chuckle.
'Yes! Frustrating!'
His amusement didn't last very long, as his expression quickly took on a more serious tone.
'It is positively frightening, Andreth.
There have been more orc sightings in the last two years than in the past decade! The winters have also become longer. We need to send more people to the fields and to our herds in the plains… But we need more and more men to defend our own lands!'
He shook his head lightly before looking back at her. Thoughtless scrunching up the letter in is hand.
'This is a mess, Andreth.
And of course, our generous lords refuse to do anything.'
Andreth felt her own anxiety rise again.
As much as she didn't want to think about it, she fully understood her father's fear. Nearly a month ago he had her pen a letter to the Eldar lords of Dorthonion, asking for help, demanding they increase their watch on the border. However, despite their pleas they hadn't received any answer yet.
With each day waiting for a response, her father had become increasingly anxious.
Staring up at her father, she searched for the right words. Something to lighten his burden and smooth out the lines in his face.
Her chest tightened and her throat seemed to close up.
As graciously as possible she stood and took the scrunched up letter out of his hand. Carefully she unfolded the wrinkly paper and looked down at it.
With a wave of longing, she realised it was a report from Belemir. She didn't even need to look at the signature, she immediately recognised Adanel's writing. Despite not containing any personal information, she felt her heart lighten at the thought that both her aunt and uncle were most likely doing fine.
A knock interrupted the silence in the study. Andreth looked up from the report, as Bregor entered the study. Her Brother's nervous eyes flitted over to her, she could see that he tried a tired smile but didn't manage it quite.
Despite the large difference in years, she was struck with how similar her brother looked to their father. Barely a head taller, Bregor had the same straight nose and sharp eyes like their father.
'Bregor', Boromir's low voice immediately pulled all of their attention to him.
With a stern expression, Boromir took in his son's muddy boots and dirty travel clothes.
'Do you have something to report?'
'Yes! I've just returned from patrol. We ran into a group of messengers. They bring news from Tol-Sirion.'
Bregor carefully placed a letter on the desk in front of their father.
'They also tell some worrying tales. They said they were attacked in the night while they were making camp near Rivil's Well.'
'Orcs?'
'No…'
Bregor shook his head, he seemed even more uneasy than before.
'Their reports seem… confused. They talked of many-legged monsters as large as hounds…'
Boromir cursed under his breath.
'Ungoliant's spawn would never go as far north as the Rivil. They shouldn't even be anywhere close to that forest.'
After a long moment of tense silence, he looked back at his son.
'Are you sure that whatever attacked them were the spiders?'
Visibly nervous Bregor shook his head.
'I'm not sure.'
After another small pause, he added.
'I came to you as soon as I returned. The messengers are resting in the main hall right now. They have lost a few men. I think you should talk to them personally.'
Boromir looked almost defeated when he took in the knowledge of further losses.
'Of course, son. You can go now.'
Bregor quickly exited the room after throwing another questioning glance in Andreth's direction. She gave him a small nod of understanding before the door closed behind him.
Carefully Andreth reached over to the letter and pulled it towards herself, putting Adanel's writing back down.
Looking at it she was surprised by the quality of the parchment, as she turned the letter over she must have let out a noise because her father turned around and looked questioningly over his shoulder at her.
'I think…', she started slowly, 'you got your response from the King of Nargothrond himself.'
She stared down at the wax seal. A harp next to a torch, enclosed inside an ornate diamond shape had been stamped into the wax. The personal sigil of Finrod the Wise.
She looked back up at her father, at his confused look she showed him the seal. Seeing the same awe take over her father's face, she couldn't stop the small smile rising on her face.
She carefully broke the seal and unfolded the letter. If the Eldar king chose to write to her father, it must be to offer them a solution to their problems. Maybe the Eldar had finally decided to push back the evil forces of the shadow…
Eagerly she began to read the first line of the elegant script, before hesitantly looking up at her father. She stared at his outstretched hand.
Of course. She felt her face heat in embarrassment. Haltingly, she handed the parchment to her father.
It was addressed to the Chieftain of the House of Beor. Despite her role as her father's scribe over the last few years, she knew that Boromir insisted on reading each official missive first.
She quickly drowned the spark of anger rising inside her chest. She was trusted. She knew that. However, despite everything, there was still a small seed of fear left.
As her father took the letter from her she stood and gave her father a respectful bow.
'I will go look after our guests.'
'Yes. That is a great idea. You can go.'
She pushed the door softly closed and turned around to look at her brother. Stepping up to him she gave him a quick hug.
She pulled away to look him over.
'Are you well?'
Despite his dirty travel-stained clothes and tired eyes, he seemed to be uninjured.
'Yes, Anny, no need to fuss over me'
She narrowed her eyes at him, his light tone didn't fool her. She could feel his unease and worry rolling off of him.
She linked her arm into his and pulled him into the direction of the main hall.
'Do you really think that the spiders went up to the Rivil?'
She purposely kept her voice low, preventing any potential servants, passing them to hear. Bregor sighed tiredly.
'I don't know, Anny… I sure hope not. But, I also don't think that these men lied to us. They really were attacked at the River's source. They have losses and wounds to prove it.'
After another pause, Bregor continued.
'They seemed genuinely terrified. I mean… maybe it was orcs or wargs… but I don't think any man serving as a messenger wouldn't immediately recognise the enemy's forces.'
Andreth stayed silent. Her mind was filled with old memories. Corpses lining a meadow. A cleaved in the chest, a broken skull, and hungry flies everywhere.
' Anny..?'
Her Brother's worried tone pulled her back to the present.
After a sharp intake of breath, they stopped in front of the large wooden door leading into the main hall.
Looking back up at her older brother she gave him an encouraging nod.
'When are you going back out on patrol?'
'Tomorrow.'
Andreth had to force back an objection. She knew her brother's duties well.
As her father's heir he was tasked with ensuring the safety of all their settlements and with a potential new menace rising up from Ered Gorgoroth, he had to be even more vigilant than ever.
'Alright. Then I would suggest you go wash yourself, you stink of horse.'
Only offering her weak smile, her brother turned around and walked away in the direction of his own rooms.
Taking a final deep breath, Andreth pushed the door open and stepped into the hall.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead Andreth checked the bandage on Goron's leg one last time, before looking up at Emlir.
Andreth remembered him. He, Balan and Amlath had been the men who escorted her from Belemir's house back home.
While she remembered the two older gruff warriors and the young heated man, who accompanied her and Breor, she had to admit to herself that her memory of them was vague at best.
She still had the occasional nightmare about grey corpses and the quiet meadow…
Taking in his red eyes, his gaunt face and greying temples, she knew that since that day Emlir had been faced with many scenes worse than the one they had seen all those years ago.
Giving Goron's prone form another look, she made sure that the unconscious man was comfortable. According to Emlir they had been riding all day, it didn't surprise her that Goron hadn't even managed to keep his eyes open through her examination.
Feeling Emlir's eyes on her, she looked back up at the man. His eyes were empty, dully staring through her.
'I will tell the servants to prepare a room for you. If you want to eat just let them know, they will prepare you a meal.'
His empty eyes seemed to focus on her as she addressed him.
'You've done well for yourself.'
Slightly surprised at his comment, she gave him an unsure smile.
'Thank you… I...eh… I have to thank you and your former companions for bringing me safely home three years ago.'
At her words, Emlir flinched. Andreth felt the unease between them rise.
Unsure if she should offer comfort, or if she should give him space, she slowly moved a little closer and gave him an awkward pat on the arm.
'You don't have to worry anymore. You and Goron can rest… and…'
Andreth cringed slightly as she heard her clumsy words trail off.
Meanwhile, Emlir's gaze had lost its focus again. He just stared through her.
'Amlath was with us.'
'What?'
Uncertain what he was talking about, she asked hesitantly, what he meant.
At her question, his gaze jumped back to her.
'He was my sister's son, you know? I always tried to look out for him… The lad always told me to mind my own business… but he was Olwen's little boy, you know…'
His voice nearly broke at his last words.
A shiver ran down Andreth's back, as cold realisation swept over her. She barely remembered Amlath.
But, he had been young, maybe two or three years older than she was now… She remembered that he had been jovial and friendly.
Her brother had said that the messengers had lost a few men to the monsters that waylaid them. She just would never have thought that she would know one of them.
Emlir sat before her, looking down at his lap.
And Andreth just gaped at him… completely mute.
After the silence became nearly unbearable, she softly whispered her condolences before she gathered her healing supplies and fled the hall.
She stormed straight to her room, not wanting to face anybody before regathering her composure. Just a few steps up the stairs leading to her floor, she stopped in her tracks.
Soft voices floated down the stairwell.
Taking a deep calming breath, Andreth began reordering her healing supplies and smoothing out her skirts.
After making sure that the rest of her appearance didn't betray her uneasy mind she continued taking measured steps up the stairs.
To her surprise she found Elwen and Melir whisper excitedly with each other. The stern housekeeper and her equally poised friend would normally rebuke anybody who decided to idly gossip instead of working.
Both women looked up as they noticed Andreth. As a blush suddenly rose to Elwen's face, Andreth found herself gaping at her.
'Have you heard the news, Andreth!'
Melir's excited voice shook her out of her startlement.
'I'm not sure. I've spent most of the day working with my father and after that, I looked after the messengers.'
'The messengers brought great news! It is a wonder you haven't already heard. The Lords of Dorthonion will come to visit!'
Elwen nodded excitedly, before letting out a nearly girlish giggle. Andreth gaped at them.
'The Eldar…?'
'Yes, yes, exactly!'
Elwen grabbed Andreth's free hand and nodded again.
'Isn't it wonderful! Lord Boromir told me. We have to prepare a welcome feast!
They will arrive in a fortnight. You know how worried your father has been. But, Nom himself wrote to him and he wrote he would send his own brothers to work with our chieftain!'
Andreth felt a smile rise to her own lips, as the realisation sank in that the Eldar king had decided to help them.
Next to them, Melir added eagerly, that the Eldar princes planned to stay for a week, how the last time over ten years ago when one of them visited he'd barely stayed a few hours.
Together with the relief that filled her, she felt the frustration and worry of the past weeks lift from her shoulders.
And, despite the worrying news of spiders creeping out of Ered Gorgoroth and Emlir's grief, she felt real joy and excitement settle in her chest.
Another timeskip!
Andreth is 19y/o. Bregor is 20y/o.
This chapter introduced a bunch of new Oc's.
Degor - Farmer/Shepherd elder from nearby village
Melir - older servant woman, Elwen's friend
Goron - the injured messenger, companion of Emlir
Emlir - messenger, Amlath's uncle (both Emlir and Amlath first appeared in Ch5)
I have to admit, it is becoming a pain to come up with names for all of these characters. Especially, because Tolkien liked to make all the names of the House of Beor start with B. This makes it really hard to create new ones that fit in but aren't all identical.
Some more vocabulary (mostly geography):
Ladros - hilly grasland in northeastern Dorthonion, specifically under Boromir's rule
Ered Gorgoroth - 'Mountains of Terror', south of Dorthonion, this is were Ungoliant fled and had her offspring, filled with a big monster spiders
Ard-Galen - green grassy plain between Dorthonion and Angband, before the Dagor Bragollach Elves and humans used this region to graze their livestock
Taur-na-Foen - 'Forest of the Foen', this another name of Dorthonion, but in this story I'm going to use this to primarily refer to the central forested region
Foen - 'Long Sight', a tall peak in the centre of Dorthonion