Chapter Seven
…..
The west wind calls, the trumpets are blowing
Enter the gates with your feet traipsing.
Raise the banners into the sky flowing.
Behold the steps of the High Elven King's homecoming.
…..
It is rare for the Elves of Gondolin to celebrate such large gatherings due to the frequency of parties in their city (with many constantly finding reasons to throw a feast). This yearly event that usually happens twice a year however is something that the Elves of Gondolin likes to watch in the safety of their walls.
Thousands of wild Nagra, boars that inhabit the White Mountains that surround their home run as if their life depends on it. Unlike regular boars however, Nagra are larger in size, almost the size of a horse with thick hide and extremely bad temper. Their size is in contrast to the white wolves that and giant bears that inhabit this wild part of Middle-Earth. They are basically the main prey of almost anything that moves here. Every year however they would come down from their treacherous holdfasts twice to take advantage of the healthy swamp near Gondolin which would be rich in abundance. There they would spawn and mate bringing thousands of them together.
The Elves of Gondolin of course, or more specifically the warriors is never one to miss this opportunity. Nagra is hard to hunt due to their size, their tusks and of course their extremely bad temper. It is perilous even for an elf to hunt Nagra. For the warriors however, this is an exception. The chance to test their skills on an unpredictable foe while at the same time earn brownie bragging points is a simply to hard to resist. Nagra is also incredibly tasty to cook once you manage to get past their thick hides. The chefs at Gondolin have simply perfected how to cook the wild pig, the only problem is catching them. It is double hard to find them and haul them from the mountains, that is why this migration is such a golden opportunity.
"Come on Hedwing not too low else your wing might be clipped by one of those jumping ones!" yells Maedhros in glee earning him a baleful look from the White Eagle for his mothering.
Despite Theririen's rather deep seated doubts and worries, Maedhros has always manage to include himself in the yearly hunts for Nagra. Down below the massive panicking herds of running meat are being hemmed at all sides by the infamous horse-archers of Gondolin. Dressed in leather hunting fatigues, the hunters are mostly of Noldorin and Vanyar descent. Their Teleri kin simply has little interest on hunting Nagra though many of them are rather greedy when it comes to eating it.
As it is they are trying to do the old tactic of divide and conquer, doing their best to separate the young, the weak and the idiotic from the main herd. One rather fat pig unbalanced are rather separated from the herd and a hunter does not waste the opportunity hemming it. His horse rides beside it, his bow trained to its head. With a powerful twang the arrow slams into its head straight to the brain not causing any more unnecessary pain to the animal as it crashes dead, flopping on its side.
Maedhros himself wastes no time drawing his own bow. While magic might have made his aim easier, he has no desire to do it. That just robs the fun of what he is doing. With a war cry, he lets go of his arrow at his target, a fat Nagra at the right side of the herd. His aim is perfect and true, the arrow embeds itself on the eye of the boar making it squeal in pain and distress before crashing in the ground.
Due to its fat size however, it leads to a domino effect to the rest of the running herd. Caught off guard by the sudden roadblock, at least five other Nagra makes a full tilt stop to avoid crashing. Their pause is their undoing. Three Elves with a net made from steel threads envelop the confused Nagra trapping them immediately.
Of course not all is successful. While the annual migration is a chance for the Elven Warriors to hone their skills, it serves also as a training ground and rather an unofficial Rite of Passage to the elite Elven Archer Cavalry. The aspirants sometimes still lack the skills despite their overconfidence to be part of the Hunt.
In his vantage point in the air, he can see one young elf coming in too close to the herd with his horse. He levels his spear and tries doing a javelin throw at the nearest board. Years of being drilled by his father on the proper way of throwing (Maglor is adamant that Maedhros is always "above acceptable when it comes to his martial skills) makes Maedhros see that the throw would go awry immediately. Instead of sticking to the boar, the spear instead only wounds it as it slides thanks to the wrong angle.
"Hedwig," Maedhros whispers to his ride who nods wordlessly as she banks down. Their bond is so strong in both lives that the giant eagle slash former owl needs no words to anymore to know her master's desires.
The Nagra completely enraged by the burning pain in its body disentangles itself from the herd and attempts to bury its tusks on the young aspirant elf's horse. Completely spooked, the horse whinnies and flails in self-preservation making his rider lose his reins going a complete three sixty mid-air before landing like a heap of dead wood on the ground, dazed. He might have been board-shesh kebabbed if not for Maedhros reaching him just in time. With a screech and mighty wings open, Hedwig lashes out with her claws stopping the boar on its intended kill as deep gouges damage its face. It is enough for Maedhros to draw his own bow before firing point blank at its right thigh. Immediately one leg becomes limp making the boar stumble and unmoving on its spot. The rest of the hunters of course finally catches up and finish the boar while helping out their rather overconfident aspirant.
Maedhros simply nods at their head before taking to the skies once more to bring in more kills.
…..
A couple of hours later
The mood around Gondolin is festive as the city starts the Hunt's celebration. Massive bonfires are being lit up as the cooks salted and bathed in honey the now the brought Nagra of the successful Hunters. Now the air is filled with the flavoring of spices, onions, garlic and marinade as the giant boars are fitfully brought near the fires to be cooked.
As for Maedhros, as usual he sits with his family at the High Table outside the Tower of the King. Being the once and future king of Gondolin, his seat is obviously the most important one with bits of jade and mixed with silver and blues. Around him he can see the people of Gondolin celebrating with more than great excess. He can't help the wry smile as he drinks from his cup. The Elves of Gondolin are a far cry from the wandering conservative kindreds they are from before. As Harry in his previous life, he always has a problem of his "saving people thing". Now that part of him is being slowly filled completely. He looks at the sides of the long table where his parents and the rest of the City Council is also taking their places.
Like everything else, his advisors and councilors are as much as friends as rivals, they are Vanyar so that is only expected. Pride is the issue of many of the Vanyarin kindred though rivaling even that of the Noldorin. Despite their rather being uppity with one another, he knows that all of them work for the greater good of Gondolin as its highest. One thing good about being immortal is that you see stuff no one has and many of the Elders now have been either a descendant of the Great War of Beleriand before and the War of Wrath. Suffice it to say making sure your home won't suffer the horrors you have experienced is a great motivator on forcing one to cooperate for the greater good.
As for his father and mother, Maedhros is just happy for them. He can see from his side that his adopted Nana has once more confiscated Maglor's flute with said musician making anime tears as his wife bears him down with that usual eyes of death that cows Maglor every time. For an Elleth so petite, it is quite a sight watching the tall, powerful Maglor, son of Feanor, renowned and feared for their fire and hot temper cowering at the glare of a small elleth.
He has always known that fire puts out fire and he mentally chuckles at the sight of his father being brow-beaten by his mother. Strong-willed, forceful and literally taking no shit, Theririen has succeeded on making sure that he and his father's escapades are reduced to a minimum. Plus it is also a good way to prevent his father from depression. Theririen simply has no desire that Maglor go down in a funky way anymore from memories of the past.
While the Harry Potter part of the reborn Maedhros is simply happy about the fact that he has parents, the Maedhros part of him is glad for the new life of his brother. Like him, Maglor has inherited much of their mother's temperament. While a great warrior and hard as steel, Maedhros knows that his brother from another life is more emotional than any of them. That is the reason why his songs are so great. They are all fueled by the emotions of everything he feels. He is just glad that his brother finally finds peace and happiness in this new life o his. He has been a constant source of worry for Maedhros when he is still stuck in the Halls of Mandos. Now with his maturity coming soon, he can make sure that his brother slash father abdicate into the life he deserves without the stress of leading and having responsibility.
"Here you are my lord," one of the servants placing a plate in front of him brings Maedhros back to the present.
With a small "thank you" that makes said Elleth blush, Maedhros turns his attention to the present. He once more smiles at the sight. It seems that his mind wandering and spacing out has taken its time. The cooks are finally done with many of the Nagra and many of the Elves are already congregating on them as they handed out pieces to the crowds. Of course being they are an exception and they are instead served by the servants of the King's Tower.
A great gust of wind soon makes itself known and the powerful figure of Hedwig lands on the designated place set aside specifically for her near Maedhros. The Elves of Gondolin are used to Hedwig's presence by now and none made a fuss about the giant avian making itself comfortable. Already a couple of Elven cooks are bringing to it a large serving of Nagra in proportion to the Giant Eagle's size. Of course the same cannot be said the first time Hedwing invited herself to a meal. She has literally sent almost the entirety of the Royal Guard crapping their pants as they try to "defend" their king from the interloper. The memory still makes him laugh until now in fact.
Taking the bite out of the steaming meat off the Nagra, Maedhros mentally moaned at the flavor. Soft and chewy, it is spicy in taste with bits of potato and honey on its flavoring. Around him he can hear also the pleasant remarks of the other Elves as they take in their meal. The usual talk has died down as they take advantage in savoring the Nagra meat. It is after all only served in abundance twice a year. Once the giant pigs make it to the mountains, it becomes quite hard after all to catch them. Even Hedwig ,Maedhros notices is silent as she nibbles on her own piece of Nagra.
"For his majesty, lord Maedhros of Gondolin!" booms one of his captains without warning from down below resulting to a loud symphony of positive cheers as many raise their glasses to his direction.
Maedhros simply smiles as he raises his glass in response before taking a drink from it. If he is completely Harry from before, he might have been trying to make himself disappear atop his seat from all the attention. Being Maedhros though, he is more than welcome of the praise that pours from his people.
"They love you your majesty, " comments Beleg standing guard at his side.
"How many times must I tell you Beleg that when during feasts, you need not stand guard at my side? Join the festivities and celebrate, there is more than food enough here for everybody," replies Maedhros cocking an eye at the tall and muscled elf.
Beleg is of course the young elfling before that he befriends. The past thirty or so years however have made the young elf hit his growth spurt to maturity. Now gone is the elfling and replaced by a strong late teen elven warrior. Of course seeing that he is basically the second-life of Beleg Strongbow, the greatest of the Avari at the elven realm of Doriath during the Elder Days, marchwarden to the late King Thingol, his path is naturally set. Suffice it to say that despite being younger than the rest of the Royal Guard aspirants, Beleg breezes through the training and challenges it that it even impresses Maglor. He is so naturally gifted to the position that none of the high council even question it. Not for the last time Maedhros can't help but wonder how in the world does Turin Turambar one up Beleg during his first life.
"Pardon me your majesty but I have set food for myself that the servants have delivered at the royal guardrooms. I will take my celebration there once the feast here is concluded and my shift over,"
"We are at the middle of Gondolin Beleg. I insist that you do none of this nonsense guard duty and celebrate with us,"
"And I do beg your pardon your majesty, but I am part of Royal Guard. UNTIL I am convinced that everything is fine, I am not leaving my position at your side,"
"Fine, suit yourself then," Maedhros replies with an eye roll. It seems that today is not gonna be the day that Maedhros would succeed on pulling the stick out of Beleg's ass.
The party lasted for the rest of the day. The cooks of course do take full advantage of the abundance of Nagra. The rare meats are cooked in a variety of ways that would have made any five star chef back at Earth green with jealousy. Much preferred of course is the slow roast over the fire but Nagra meat are so plentiful that some are boiled and turned into flavorful stew that makes many a mouth water from the smell, others are fried over flat stones and pans with lettuce and other greens, the more daring cut small strips of the meat cooking bacon out of them.
Of course not everything is Nagra. Other assortment of dishes from fowl to deer meat is also present for those with different tastes, much seafood is also present with the Teleri contributing their own to the feast. Assortments of swordfish and marlin are present at the tables for all. The new underground river connecting to a large private harbor is a great source of prosperity for the Teleri. Maedhros almost has his toes kissed by the Sea Loving kindred when he offered usage to them. Now the once empty bay are filled with the graceful harbors and the songs of the Teleri Elves. Clamshells of every kind and sea food are brought in abundance to the tables.
Of course it would not be a feast if not for the drinks.
As as general norm, Elves don't usually invest much in drinks for two reasons; First and foremost is their pride. Many Elves simply believe that being inebriated out of your wits is a bad example to set for being the wise and proud "Elder Race". The second and more logical reasons is the simple fact that it is simply hard for Elves to be drunk out of their wits. A bottle of Mirkwood's finest would make an elf tipsy as hell but he would remain standing. Two bottles would knock him flat on his back. Compare that however to the simple fact that a glass of said bottle would knock a man flat on his back easy, is saying something.
To put a solution to this, Maedhros introduces Elderberry wine to the tables of Gondolin. Elderberries are probably Earth's most red flagged fruit that can be transformed to a drink. Made by the Unspeakables of France during the peaceful years after Voldemort's defeat, it is so potent and strong that it is highly recommended that no one should drink more than one cup per week. Those that tried otherwise have to literally get their livers tugged out of their arses literally.
Suffice it to say that it is a hit to the Elves of Gondolin. One might have caused complete liver failure and cancer to different human organs back at Earth is enough for Elves to feel…normal when drinking. He has also introduced Butterbeer which is a hit for the conservative Elves that adhere religiously to Reason Number One, same with Firewhisky and other more drinking beverages that the Gondolin Elves are taking a liking to.
The reason for it is actually quite simple.
While many of the Elves of Gondolin are satisfied with their current life here at Gondolin, Maedhros has his sights further. These new things he is introducing, it would all become footholds for the vision of a new Elven kingdom that would rise in Middle-Earth.
The celebration suffices it to say ended at midnight with almost all of the attendees completely full and satisfied. While the Gondolin Elves manage to consume large amounts of Nagra, large portions have been set aside for the coming lean months when the Giant Boars would be up in the Mountains till next migration. The leftover preserved meat have been dressed in spices before buried on specially made caverns (charmed with preservation spells) under the ice and snow. Food preservation is another thing that Maedhros has introduced to the Elves of Gondolin much to the delight of the Teleri especially who always manages to catch more than they need.
Morning greets Maedhros bright and early poring over the old maps that his aides brought upon his request. His eyes especially wander to Arnor, the great realm of men. While his initial opinion of introducing themselves to Arnor remain, the fact remains that Gondolin for all its strength cannot compete to the strength of the human kingdom. They simply do not have either the resources or the numbers to do it. Both Maedhros Feanorian and Harry Potter part of him agree to this assessment wholeheartedly. Being an auror and a general of the Elder Days, bitter experience has taught both lives that once the element of surprise and subterfuge is gone, it can never be returned. Yes, if he ever plans to introduce Gondolin into the world, it would be at a position of strength.
Thus his eyes wander West to the empty lands of Lindon, specifically Harlindon and Forlindon, the once proud lands of Gil-Galad, the Last Elven King of the Noldor. With the Noldor gone and most of their strength vanquished during the War of the Last Alliance, the lands are basically empty with no one to call it theirs.
The Arnorians are already having a vast territory of their own and anything beyond the River Lhun westward they don't put too much attention. Thus the lands sit inhabited other than the occasional elf and humans who don't care for kings or rulers over them. They are simply ripe for the taking. For the life of him though Maedhros has no idea as to why Cirdan the Shipwright does not lay claim to the lands of his king, preferring to keep his small city of the Grey Havens.
He has a theory for that though and that is why he is waiting for his father to arrive right now.
"Well you are awake bright and early Maedhros," the familiar voice of his father greets him making Maedhros turn to the door where his father wearing his familiar grey robes of office enter. He is however looking rather ruffled with his collar high up to his neck. It does not take a genius what happened.
"I see you have a rather bright skip to your step father. Have a nice night?" he teases with a chuckle as Maglor turns red before deadpanning at him.
"One day when you meet a woman that you like Maedhros, I would be glad to repay the favor of all the teasing you are giving me. Speaking of which, are you planning to invade something? Why do you have the map of the North of Middle-Earth out? Don't tell me that you are planning an invasion are you?"
Maedhros simply smirks at his father whose smile slowly fades.
"Oh by the Valar my son. I am only joking when I said that you're planning an invasion. You're not exactly planning one…are you? That's no laughing matter Maedhros. Gondolin cannot, MUST NOT go to war. We are not ready for any sort of invasion of any kind,"
"Peace Ada, I do am planning an invasion but not in a way that you are imagining it to be. I have a question for you though that has been bothering me ever since last night,"
"Well, out with it son, judging by the constipated look on your face, you have been thinking about it for quite a while,"
"I don't have a constipated face," replies Maedhros with a bit of an affront.
"Speak for yourself. The ellons in our entire family line from my father to my brothers always have that look when we are overthinking something,"
His memories of the line of Feanor and his rather hot blooded angry and vengeful sons is not something that this new Maedhros would rather want to associate himself with. They are after all rather responsible for kinslaying version 1.0- 3.0 due to greed and self-pride. Still it's better that he humor his father. They are his family after all.
"I need to know something Ada. When I have been looking at the maps of Middle-Earth, I can't help but wonder why these Elven Realms are so well….small. I know of course that many of the people of Gil-Galad and the Elves at Eregion are lost during the war against Sauron but both Rivendell and Lothlorion are not making waves to expand their territories once again. They're powerful settlements of Elves but they are not kingdoms,"
For a moment his father is silent at his words before wordlessly motioning for him to sit down. Taking a bottle of Butterbeer from a nearby chiller that is always present at the War Room, he tosses one at Maedhros who deftly catches it before taking one himself.
"How do I say this my son," he sighs to himself as he sits on the chair beside Maedhros. "The Third Age is what you might call the Last Age of the Eldar in these shores. Now before you start to throw even more questions, let me finish my boy," he adds as Maedhros opens his mouth to ask "why".
" As you already know Maedhros, our kind do not fear the visage of time. The only things that can send us to the Halls of Mandos are either grievous wounds or the fact that for one reason or another, we fade, or we lose the will to live. When we first came here at Middle-Earth after the Great Enemy, Morgoth stole the Silmarils, Feanor, we are full of hope, dreams and pride. We dream of powerful realms, leading our peoples to victory and proving to the Valar that once and for all, we do not need them to achieve our vengeance,"
A wry smile appears on Maglor's face, one that embodies what he has seen in his entire long life. "We achieve little to nothing of what we hoped. The kingdoms we built are shattered. The peoples we have led are now bones and dust on the ground, their spirits mourning at the Halls of Mandos. The wars we have fought against the great enemy lead to defeat after defeat with barely scrapping a few victories at great cost. We became the instruments of our own demise and many an innocent blood is spilled in the name of our vengeance. In the end we not only shamed ourselves by being unable to take back the lost treasures of our father, we also have proven the Valar true that in the end of the days we need them after all," he takes a large swig of Butterbeer at that.
"Those of us that remain, Noldor, Exiles of Aman who refused the call of the Valar during the War of Wrath struggle to maintain whatever reason that we have to stay on these lands. It is difficult after all to give up on Middle-Earth. So much beauty can be found here despite the dangers and for some, it is still worth defending for the sake of so many of our kindred that laid down their lives for these lands not to fall into darkness,"
"That doesn't yet answer my question Ada," points out Maedhros.
"Don't you see my son? When the end of the Last Alliance started and the Fall of Sauron, it is proven to us Elves that we are not solely responsible for the preservation and the defense of this land. Other than the fact of course that there are so few of us Eldar left here; Man has proven that he is more than capable of fighting the darkness and winning. They basically take our duty right from under us," he barks out a laugh at that.
"Humanity, short-lived humans have strength that we in our pride missed. Now with their numbers increasing and gaining strength, many of the Eldar that remain here find less and less reason to stay in these shores. What's the point after all? What reason is there for them to continue going on? No, the purpose that the Eldar is fulfilled, this Third Age will be our last one. When the time comes, we would step aside as humanity stands to take its place in these lands. For the time being we will be here, whatever that is left, a living reminder of all that was before we pass on to memory when we sail West,"
Maedhros eyebrows is literally shooting up his forehead as his father finishes his tirade. "That's it?"
A look of affront comes into the older of the two as he frowns at his son. "Do not take this lightly son. Soon you shall see what I am saying about. As you already know, our people have no reason to stay here, no future to look forward to? What's the point of spreading your influence and territories when at the end, this land would no longer belong to them?"
"So…..basically you're saying that us, the Firstborn, physically, mentally and spiritually stronger than Men would not try to lay claim on these lands again because of…..philosophy?"
"I've already said son that-,"
"Yes, yes they cannot find a reason for their "future" and they have no purpose," cuts off Maedhros. "Won't it be simple to better find a purpose than sitting around bemoaning the fact that Man is now claiming the once high proud seat that our people has?"
"The Valar decrees that all Elves should sail West to the Blessed Realm my son," points out Maglor.
"Nuh-uh, I disagree Ada. I've read the histories. They do not order us to go West, but rather they left the option for us to go West. It doesn't specifically say a date about when we should get there. I say that we postpone as long as possible before we board some nice boat and live out our days in the Heavenly Realm,"
Maglor simply stares at him and Maedhros feels the urge to shift in his chair. It is rare to see the son of Feanor below the happy go lucky persona and being kicked around by Theririen. He has been so engrossed in his arguments that he has forgotten the history of his father, who he is, what he has seen, the wisdom that he might have accumulated over the years. Maedhros is just ready to apologize for his outburst (at least the Harry Potter part of him is, the Elf general inside would rather eat his own shoe that apologize to his former younger brother) when Maglor nods at the map.
"What do you plan then Maedhros?"
The question is so sudden and unexpected that Maedhros finds himself speechless as he gawks at his father for a few seconds. A wry but knowing smile appears at the greatest musician of Middle-Earth as he steps forward placing a hand on Maedhros' shoulders.
"I have seen you raise wonders Maedhros, I have seen you transform a dozen different tribes of wandering Avari whose kindreds are so different that they would never agree with one another to a city worthy of the Elder Days. I know you more than you think my son. You would not have answered me if you have no reason strong enough behind it. So again, I ask you what is your plan my son?"
Maedhros simply looks at his father, his chest churning at the pride of his father at him. Gulping he recomposes himself before looking at the map now laying forlorn at the table.
"I am going to lift up the fortunes of our people father. The Firstborn shall once more see this land of Middle-Earth as their home,"
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Author's Note: Story recontinued. I have been aiming to write again my own personal book but I see now that I like having people smile when they read fanfics like this. So here I am doing my utmost to make you, whoever you are smile by reading a good story.