Chapter Thirteen
….
Below the trees, the birds do sing,
Of the goddess wood and the Elven king.
Oft worlds they came of unknown paths,
Yet here in Arda, their path meet at last.
For he comes with strength and might abound,
Yet she brings healing and life where none resound.
On mighty Rock where waters ring
Their union, Gondolin the bards do sing.
-Song of the High Elven King and the Queen of the Woods
…..
Bree, North of the Shire
The town of Bree has always been a major stop point for many travelers. Most of the income that the town generates comes from the different inns that it supports. Being literally the only "stop-town" before going into the Wild, all that passes by the Road graces its rooms. It accommodates many, from gruff looking dwarves heading to the Lonely Mountain, Wandering Elven kindreds who is here for one reason or another, traveling merchantmen, regular human travelers, emissaries from down South heading to the kingdom of Arnor North, many Hobbits who are visiting one's family to another and many more.
It is the inn of the Prancing Pony under the supervision of Madam Cat Cornhusk that is the most accommodating however and a favorite to many travelers. In this inn right now, a grey cloaked figure sits alone far away from the usual rowdy crowd that is present in the town.
One look at the figure can tell that this is no ordinary person. His tall frame, and long strands of brown hair shining with an inner glow can attest enough that he is one of the Firstborn. Elves are seen as mysterious here at Bree and it is not everyday that one waltzes around, much less stay at an inn without leaving afterwards. The Elven wandering kindreds usually prefer to make camp outside the woods, buying only supplies before leaving.
His cloak might look grey but a closer look at it can one observe that it is rather polished silver with a hint of mottled browns or greens. The things laid out at his side are also proof that he is an Elf. No one after all in Middle-Earth can have such elegant weapons designed more for agility and graceful fighting. The only hiccup in the usual "Elvish" proof however is the giant massive longbow at his side. Compared to the usual elegant Elvish bows which looks thin but strong, this one is vastly bigger.
Gulping, a serving maid nervously approaches the tall figure putting the plate of ham and bread at the farthest part of the table she can reach and the tankard of beer before bolting. As for the figure, he only grunts in annoyance as he takes the bread before ripping off a considerable chunk out of it and taking a bite.
Beleg Cuthalion, or rather Beleg Strongbow has been in a rather sour mood in this last decade or so. Ideally as the head of the Royal Guard, his place would be originally at the Royal Palace guarding the Royal Family. However ever since the sudden disappearance of their liege after only fifty years of rule into thin air quite literally after messing with some kind of "magical book". Beleg and his hundred or so personal Royal Guard have all left their posts at Gondolin as they attempt to search for their missing king.
Custodes, the Custodians they named themselves swearing a vow that they will find their lost king and bring him back to Gondolin dead or alive, till then none of them will go home. All across Middle-Earth they have searched, from fiery chasms to icy dells where the living even dare not walk. Out of the hundred Custodians, fifty remain to this day, each a veteran of his own right, Beleg included. None of them wavered, none of them lost faith.
Now as to why he is here instead of some cave or mountain trying to find clues to their missing king, the reason is simple.
The door opens and everyone goes silent as a silver haired elf in scale armor in burnished silver whose quality in starlight looks like the entirety of Bree put together steps in. At his side are two bodyguards of his, obviously Elves also. They are unlike anything that the Elves of Middle-Earth also. First off they are tall, extremely tall. Their armaments are heavy with a large shield having a city design on it with a sun and their armor is not the usual light armor of Elves but rather heavy looking plate painted royal blue.
"I'll have a jug of ale and some of that fine venison of yours that smells lovely Madame Cornhusk. I will be sitting here with my friend till then," the one with the scale armor exclaims throwing a silver coin at the Innkeeper who almost drops it as she is surprised as he flicks it at her direction.
Not paying anymore attention to her or the rest of the gawkers, he heads straight with his two bodyguards at the Cloaked figure who scowls as the other Elf plops himself without invitation in front of him.
"Beleg!" the silver haired elf exclaims dramatically. "Fancy seeing you down here of all places,"
"Ecthelion," replies the Cloaked Elf taking a sip from his beer. "What is the Commander of the Fountains doing here so far from home? Don't tell me you are simply here to convince me to forget my mission and go home, for I haven't changed my mind a bit,"
"By the Valar, no! No! Everyone knows that you are as stubborn as a Nagra stuck on the nets. While everyone disapproves of your men and you leaving, the Steward deems that the personal mission your group has taken is reason enough not to label all of you as banished. Oh, thank you madam," the cheerful elf replies with a bright smile at the serving girl who blushes red before scurrying away leaving the two to talk.
"He still worries about our king you know," he says softly.
At that Beleg's eyes soften. "How is the steward and the Lady Theririen?". Ever since the disappearance of Maedhros, the reigns of ruling once more fell at the hands of Maglor who only takes it after making very specific that the place belongs to his son and his son, alone. Gondolin after all needs a steward especially in their growing phase and the absence of their king. To have no one at the seat of leadership is simply inviting chaos,
"They're holding on as best as they can. Thank heavens for the birth of the twins else the Lady Theririen might not have managed well the disappearance of our liege,"
"Wait, twins? The Lady Theririen is pregnant?" asks Beleg surprised. He has been on the Wilds so long that news about the comings and goings at Gondolin has been near null.
"Yes, she has become pregnant last year and gave birth a month only before, two princesses for the kingdom now,"
"I and the Royal Guard should have been there. My king won't want me absent when new additions to his family are just born," sighs Beleg sadly taking a gulp from his beer again.
"Don't be Captain. The search for our liege must not waver. Actually that is the reason why I am here right now,"
At a silent nod from Beleg, Ecthelion drones on. "You are not the only ones for our lost king, Beleg. After you and your merry group ride off without warning whatsoever, the king has redeployed the entirety of the Ranger Corps to scour the lands also for word of our king South. Commander Tirion also has redeployed his cavalry to start searching the lands around the territories controlled by Gondolin for any sign of our king. As for the Steward, he deems it time that the kingdom formally introduces itself to its neighbor. With us having formal relations with Arnor, it would open us to the rest of the world that will hopefully put us in a good light. It will also ease your search radiuses and you would have no need to be going incognito anymore. You would have logistical supplies for everything that you might ever need,"
"I thought that the original goal of our liege is to expand South, not introduce ourselves to the world?" Beleg blinks questioningly, not liking one bit that the original plans of their king has been forgotten. Beleg himself has attended more than one session where Maedhros would talk about his plans on reuniting the entirety of Lindon, both Forlindon and Harlindon under the rule of Gondolin before letting the kingdom be exposed to the world.
"That is the original plan Captain but things have changed. Lord Cirdan and the Elves of Mithlond have reported strange going ons at Harlindon. A strange misty fog seems to have the covered the entirety of the woods there and Ents start to appear on its woods. They have resisted all sorts of communication, even to us Elves. As such, the Steward has deemed it not safe to continue our expansion South,"
"That is strange, the Sheperd of the Trees normally are friendly and open to us Elves. It begs the question these ones seem hostile? Have they been touched by the shadow?"
"Not as far as the Falas Elves are concerned. Some of them have tried sailing down the coast of Harlindon with the Lady Aerthel, to confirm the presence of the Ents. None of them are hurt when they're driven off back to their ships but she can attest that none of them have hints of darkness. The best guess of the Steward is that the woods there have gone wild and uncontrollable that Yavanna might have awakened the Ents to pacify it. Those woods after all have been home to many of Gil-Galad's people, and later, the Sindar under Amroth. Magic is still present on those woods and without the Elves' presence to calm it, must have gone out of control,"
"Don't you think so that maybe our liege is stuck there?" asks Beleg. "It can't be a coincidence that the Ents of Harlindon have awakened at so close to a timing of our king's disappearance,"
"The Steward thinks also the same that is why we have set up camps all over the woods of Harlindon led by Lord Tirion's sister,Captain Tuna Fairshield who are probing the woods for places to venture and making sure that nothing creeps out of it without the Elves from Doriath and Vinyamar knowing. Until then however, the Steward wants us not to exhaust our entire energy there for there is great possibility that our liege might not be there anyway. As such the search must continue elsewhere at the time being,"
"I see and when is the Steward officially starts to contact Arnor?"
"A week from now when the official procession starts. Until then, officers like me are checking up all over the place for every bit of information we can get about this human kingdom that might be useful for negotiations that will come in the future,"
"And they're not suspicious about Elves in finery running around?" asks Beleg, raising an eyebrow at the bling armor that Ecthelion and his two bodyguards are wearing.
"They simply think that we are Elves from Rivendell," shrugs the Captain of the Fountains. "Humans are so adorable and simple in that way. Besides, I am of Vanya kin and as our ladies do proudly say, if you've got it, then you need to show it,"
"Proud peacock, say Ecthelion, what do you say that we start showing our displeasure to uninvited guests?"
"I totally agree Beleg, after all, eaves are not always welcome in places where they have no business on being be. Kill or maim?" replies Ecthelion.
"Just scare is enough, should I or should you?"
"You do it, you're the one who said it first after all. Just make sure not to break the arrow for something so mundane,"
"Fine, thanks for the advice," With lightning fast reflexes, the massive longbow of the Strongbow snaps like a shotgun blast, no one even seeing him notch an arrow and release. The powerful shot speeds up and slams a hairsbreadth away from a brown haired man who is hiding behind a pillar. The arrow does not touch him, but it does cuts the pendant off his neck before slamming into the wall.
He runs away in a panic, his green cloak covering him as the jeers of the customers of the Prancing Pony call after him. As for Beleg, he just scowls as he grabs his arrow back from the wall and taking the pendant hanging from it. His jaws tighten at the engraved symbol of Arnor on it.
…..
Gondolin, Tower of the King
Maglor resists the urge to rub his head at the other incoming migraine making itself known. To say that he's unhappy about the current state of affairs would be the complete understatement of the century. Normally anyone reduced from being pseudo king of a kingdom to a lowly regent and steward would have been foaming at the mouth in anger and resentment.
Not for Maglor however, no. Maglor has already lived a long life and for the Son of Feanor, the greatest gift that he wants in his life is peace and quiet. It seems however that Eru Illuvatar is not done with him in any way yet since Fate is determined in every way to screw with him and his family. Now he is once again regent of Gondolin, and its temporary king at least until his son is back here.
Maglor scowls at that. Don't mistake, he is worried about Maedhros as much as any father would be. That is why he doesn't excommunicate the Royal Guard when they run off into the wilderness without asking for permission from him. The Royal Guard under the supervision of Beleg is fanatical in their desire to protect their liege. Maglor would trust them with his son's life, he knows that for a fact. As it is though, whatever spare forces that Gondolin can give have been redeployed in incognito all over to help for the search. Even old Thorondor conferred with Gwaihir, the Windlord for some of his eagles to take note the possibility of them seeing his son.
Maglor has got a funny feeling though that at the event of the day despite the upheaval that results from the sudden disappearance of their liege, his son would return home, hale and sound like he always does bringing with him another miracle that would turn their world upside down. It's just a feeling, but Maglor has learned the hard way that when it comes to Maedhros, his gut feeling ninety-nine percent of the time is usually right.
In the end despite the rather "sudden leave" of his son, Maglor finds himself happy. He has after all two new daughters of his own. If somebody have said to Maglor that one day he would marry and settle down, he might have laughed at their faces. Now he's married to the most incredible fiery ever to grace Arda and even manages to successfully bring two new souls into the world, Jayne and Jaelyn. The moment he holds them, he knows that he would love and protect them forevermore.
Unfortunately, Maglor's desire to bond with his new daughters and wife has been rather delayed these days due to the demands of the throne. Gondolin is getting more and more prosperous and the rather large improvements of the land of Forlindon under their rule are getting even better. Unlike the original Elves of Lindon, the Elves of Gondolin makes it a priority that the land is firmly on their control. That means farms, homesteads and villages scattering the once empty land. Majority of Central Forlindon is populated due to its wide plains and open spaces, same goes the closer you are to the water, especially on the highways to Vinyamar and the Falas. The
It is North and South however of Forlindon that continually requires the Thrones' attention. The South of course being that it is the Gap and the major pathway to the rest of the world (Gondolin's hidden passageways not included). It seems that the Elves of Mithlond have something to peak their curiosity for the first time since the Fall of Gil-Galad other than building ships. They come in droves to visit their kindred and the lands they live in. That alone might have no issue. The issue comes however when said visitors refuse to live. Apparently they are inspired and found new light and reason to go on in the rebuilt kingdom of their kin. Thus the petition comes from Cirdan to allow his envoys to pass through officially to "coerce, appeal to their good nature, bribe, making them see reason, or familial attachments" the visiting Elves to come back to Mithlond. Eight times out of ten it usually works, but there are always those who are stubborn. These unfortunately creates a large amount of paperwork for the throne to deal with.
The only saving grace that Maglor can see in this is the House of Beor stepping up to the plate. The humans of the House of Beor now fully settled on their own land finally regain their lost strength. With the blood of their heritage flowing freely on them, they quickly step up to the role given to them as wardens of the Gap, making sure to police it fully.
Many of the Elves of Gondolin have been suspicious of the humans of the House of Beor. They have simply accepted the king's order to accept them as they are. The fact remains that they do not trust them. The House of Beor however proved them wrong. With the First Generation of their House now reaching the road to adulthood, many of them start leaving the fair lands of Dor-E-Mithlap to see the rest of the world. The Beornings however takes great delight in many of the Elves of Gondolin and many of them integrates in the society of the kingdom. Young, full of fire, adaptable, drive and desire for a future, the Beornings manage to prove themselves easily in the eyes of the Elves. Crafts, skills and talent, that they have in spades and many soon at these time start to look at humans not unlike the Firstborn.
A large number of Beornings also join the ranks of the Royal Army, especially the spry older ones. With their charge of protecting Dor-E-Mithlap, they took seriously their assignment. It prove the Elves at well that time. The Beornings are hardy of body and mind, heavily loyal and soon the entire wild open lands of Dor-E-Mithlap are present to witness the heavy cavalry of fully armed Beornings brimming with bright helms of silver and scale mail. Never let it be said that the Royal Army of Gondolin does not take care of its own. In all aspects of the three kindreds of Gondolin, the Beornings never find themselves lacking. Some of the even more daring ones heads up North, their ability to withstand the harsher elements of the Earth makes them invaluable for the ever watchful Elves of Nargothrond who keeps an eye on the Fire Drakes of the North.
It is a good thing too for the North of Forlindon is the barren and cold Northern Wastes. The mountains are rich in jewels and ores making themselves prime sitting places for many Dwarven Tribes and Groups. However such wealth hoarded in one place can only attract one aggressor, dragons. Large numbers of them have settled up North after driving off many of the Dwarven inhabitants. Open area caves and extreme weathers also make it a prime example for them to transform into their lair. The Dwarves of course do not take it well too kindly and push back. Ever since then it is a constant gripping battle on those blasted grey mountains.
Of course sometimes a dragon might choose to venture South tired from all the fighting and where there is less competition. Warriors and mercenaries usually are the ones that dealt with the damned drakes. Most of these that venture South are not full grown (since adult dragons are big and strong enough to stay up North to hold their lairs easily), making them vulnerable to the weapons of man, elf and dwarf.
Nargothrond ever since its creation has taken down three drakes already wandering around the Ranges of Celanoriand. Even without coming to their full scale, the feat of taking down such evil magical creatures have cost almost forty-five Elves.
Maglor knows of course the danger of otherwise ignoring them, and letting them grow. The Dragons that Morgoth unleashed at the War of Wrath prove themselves dangerous enough that they push the forces of the gods back for a time. Thus the ever Watch North up of Forlindon and precious placement of Nargothrond there.
Right now though Maglor worries for the future of his plans to introduce Gondolin to their neighboring kingdom of Arnor. The latest intel that the outward sources of Gondolin reports that King Earendur, is the current king of the human kingdom and is a family man. Current prosperity in Arnor tells that he is a good king so far and quire reasonable maintaining strong friendships of the Elves of Rivendell and Mithlond.
The idea of declaring Arnor to the world is a highly unpopular decision to the Elves of Gondolin. Actually even some in the Council are against it. The net of safety provided by secrecy is something that the citizens of the Hidden Kingdom are reluctant to let go of. In the end Maglor makes the decision still however due to the fact that sooner or later, the search for his son must be widespread and done as soon as possible before another decade ends. Gondolin would need it's king.
Plus personally, he's starting to feel the paperwork getting to him damnit!
….
Somewhere at Harlindon
Fifty Asrai Elves clamber over the raised Hill of Solitude that the Maiar they named as Loth-O-Yavanna or also known as Flower of Yavanna tends to dwell. It is not new that the Maiar prefer long times of solitude before gracing their settlements with her presence, they tend to chalk it up as one of her divine oddities. Ten years however is really stretching it that the Asrai is starting to get worried. The only reason that they haven't tried barging in her most sacred place is due to the simple facts that she's a deity from the West and anything disrespectful thrown at her is the highest of heresy, and secondly, Maiar are temperamental based on their moods. The Lady Galadriel who is not even a Maia but educated by one many have seen flay a man alive one for asking for her hand once. Suffice it to say no one want to experience that first hand for health reasons.
After a lot of arguing, it is decided (unanimously) that they at least send a token force to check on their patron. She is after all the source of their progress and new lifestyle. Thus the reason why they are here doing their damnest to be formal and as unaggressive as they can be without looking too much threatening.
The first indication that they see that everything is not as it should be is the sight of their goddess definitely "not alone" on the glade where she usually can be found. There with her and holding her in a rather intimate embrace (no mistaking that since the Maia is literally sitting on his lap with his arms around her waist.) is an ellon with dark red hair wearing white robes with a crown upon his head of a thousand jewels. Before their brain can even register what is going on, almost all Elves are raising their bows, aimed at the intruder. One overzealous elf even lets go of his arrow aimed directly at the ellon sitting there.
…
At the Glade of the Queen of the Forest (Ten minutes before)
"I still can't believe that you are here," Maedhros whispers as his hands touch the side of Fleur's face, brushing a lock of hair aside. His eyes immediately dart to see that it is angled and sharp like an Elf instead of the human ones that she has in his memory.
The moment he has seen her, it seems as if his soul has been yanked and dragged through memory lane, unwillingly. From the moment when he has first seen her and their form of communication via "leetle boy" from her; to the end of their memories when he sits beside her bed comforting her in her last moments, her bony hands holding out on his own before the very breath of her lungs is finally taken away from her. Every moment of their shared experiences he sees and experience once more.
Maedhros for the most part is happy with his new life mixed with the two souls of Harry Potter and the Elven Lord. However despite the gift of family, he has always found himself a bit alone. He after all has power that only he can wield and not something that the other Elves would really understand, not even his parents. He has been destined for greatness ever since his younger days. This sets him apart and despite his joy and contentment with his new life. He never truly finds someone who can understand him.
To the Elves of Gondolin, he is their Messiah, their savior. To many others later, he would be the king. To his family, the ever dutiful son. Each one forces him to bear responsibility while hiding a part of him.
"And I to you, Harry. You look so handsome now," the beautiful face of Fleur Delacour beams as she replies by placing a palm on the side of his cheek as if making sure that she is not hallucinating. Despite the soft smile on her face, he can see the lines there, the one that he also has, lines of loneliness and sadness mixed with a little bit of desperation for someone to understand.
"How are you here Fleur?" Maedhros asks.
"I don't know," the former Veela answers with a shrug of her shoulders. "One thing I know is that I'm dying from my own armchair then the next, I am waking up in this world in this new body, with part of my memories locked as to how I come to be here. I have glimpses of staying at a garden where a beautiful being sings beings to creation,"
"Yavanna," whispers Maedhros more to himself than Fleur. "Either way I am glad that you are here," he smiles at the realization that she still hasn't removed the hand on his face. "You still look like yourself, only more elvish, yet beautiful and attractive at the same ti me,"
"Oh? Attractive am I Mr. Potter, or is it Maedhros now?" she replies with an impish grin.
"The latter I am afraid," answers the King of Gondolin now pulling away to give the two of them space though he notices that Fleur has transferred her hand to intertwine with his. He's not complaining though. "Being labeled a Potter is not exactly belonging to the High Society in this world,"
Her laughter is like the music of a thousand birds as she responds to his joke, extremely pleasant to his ears. "I missed you, the last few years of my life makes me understand who you are Ha-Maedhros. It's a pity that we don't have much time back then,"
Maedhros' heart flutters at that. He has always harbored a crush on Fleur ever since he first sees her back then. Who wouldn't? The Veela is attractive even by her kind's standards. Plus Fleur is brave, kind, and very independent. Bill is lucky to have married her. However when Fleur lost him finally to his curse, her will to live lessens and only manages to rekindle during her brief tenure at Hogwarts. In the end she died way too early and Harry never gets to know her.
Now however? There is no Bill that would serve as competition, no children of hers that would make her doubt, and she's all lonely like him in this strange new world. Both the Harry and the Maedhros part of his brain connects this dots immediately. It is a golden opportunity that they do would not waste.
"And I am glad for the time that we will have here Fleur. I am glad that you are here, and I am no longer alone," replies Maedhros holding both their hands. "You are something else now I believe, a Maiar of growth if the woods around us are any indication,"
"I don't exactly know who I am Harr-Maedhros. It's just the people here are strange, the world I am now is strange and I have powers in spades that I have no idea how to control. They call me a blessing from Yavanna and I don't even know why. I barely manage to gather the basics of this world by whatever information the local Elves have told me without them kowtowing to my presence,"
"Then come and find out with me," offers Maedhros. "I am a king and Gondolin would be proud to have you. I offer you safety… and the people that I know you care for," he adds as Fleur opens her mouth to speak before simply smiling.
"You do know me,"
"I do," nods Maedhros. "that is why I am offering you a place at my kingdom by my side. At the very least you can keep me sane and Ada and Nana would love to meet you,"
"That rather sounds like something you would bring a girlfriend to Mister Potter," replies Fleur with a raised eyebrow though her eyes are obviously shining in amusement.
"It did cross my mind once or twice. But seriously Fleur, you can stay with me and at least won't be alone. Harlindon, this place of yours would be part of Gondolin and be under the umbrella of our swords," he smirks. "We Elves at least must stick together and Gondolin would love to have a Queen of the Woods like you,"
"Easy there tiger, at least offer me dinner and a dance first before you start throwing marriage proposals,"
The two of them simply laughs at that before going silent staring at each other's eyes again in pure companionship. Neither of them even notices that Fleur is already sitting at his lap. Unfortunately their moment is broken by the sound of a bowstring releasing.
…..
Author's Note:
Yayyy so another update. Hope ya like this chapter. Next ones are finally going to be pushing the borders of Gondolin.
Haters continue to hate and I continue to write so bleeeh :P Not letting this fandom die, no thank you sir.