Chapter Nine
In Lindon…
Gil-Galad looked at the message in his hand, his heart thundering.
"Are you sure this is even possible?"
Elrond took a deep breath. "I'm afraid it is, sire."
Gil-Galad looked at the message, his heart hammering louder than it had ever hammered in his life. "You are certain this is reliable?" he asked.
Elrond looked grim. "My king, believe me, I would never have given this to you, until I saw further proof with my own eyes, which cannot be disputed. The ships and men in Umbar were only the tiniest portion of a much larger army. The same can be said in Khand, Harad and Rhûn. They concealed the worst from us, there in Númenor, can the worst be truly found."
Gil-Galad raised his head, keeping his calm reserve, like a king ought, even though his insides were colder than the Helcaraxë.
"Then we must warn the rest of Middle-Earth- the Free Peoples must never be taken by this by surprise."
"My king, they outnumber us far more than we have imagined in our wildest dreams." Elrond explained. "We were arrogant- arrogant and blind enough to believe that a whole race of Men would be as great an ally and friend to us all for all of time- arrogant enough to teach these people our craft and our wisdom, without teaching us our morality first- they were- and are still- children, compared to us. They are too young to understand, and will never understand, what the Ages have taught us. No matter how long their lifespans."
The king sighed. "You've told me this before Elrond."
Celeborn moved closer. "The King Amdir, believes this too. That is why he came to me, asking you to consider an alliance."
Gil-Galad looked up startled. "King Amdir wishes an alliance?' he asked, suddenly all-too-aware that he might have sounded stupid, and not like the king he was.
Celeborn nodded. "Yes."
Gil-Galad would have normally counted this as a great relief, even a success, but the memory of those mere figures on the paper extinguished any hope of hope and made everything worse than before.
He sighed and grimaced. "We will have to work quickly. We have been blind, arrogant even, thinking that the Númenóreans would come to reason and remember that once, we helped them shape their nation, and that the Valar were the ones who raised the island for them. No, those Númenóreans are long gone, and the ones that replaced them- also given gifts that exceed that of mortal men, though the gift of Men were also given to them- have gone greedy for more. It is rotting- the garden that we so carefully tended and watered- rotting from the inside out and producing such poisoned fruit that has threatened the whole nature of Middle-Earth- no Arda. For today it is Middle-Earth, how long before it is Aman?"
Elrond drew in a sharp breath. "Surely you don't-"
"Why not?" The High King asked. "They have already forgotten the Valar. They now only speak of them as if they tricked them or drove them into starvation, even though that very island was raised by them. They also speak of us with hate and envy. The teaching of our cultures has been forbidden in Númenor, now they plan to invade us." He shook his head. "I know Elrond. I know that your brother was one of the best beings I had ever known in all my years, and I know that it was he that founded Númenor, and became its' first king. But his descendants are nothing like you and your brother. They have been corrupted and are nothing like you and your twin."
Elrond bowed his head, still in shame. He thought it was a good thing that Elros was not here to see this. This would have shattered him- all his hopes on what Númenor and the Race of Men would become… The race he had so sympathised with and saw great potential in had become poisoned to the core.
And thus Lord Elrond-Half-Elven left the meeting in great sadness, the heavy weight of sorrow tugging at his heart.
In Amon Lanc, Greenwood…
King Oropher looked at the paper his eyes closing tight with dread. Fear was something he would never show to his elves, all of whom looked upon him to lead.
He would only do this in private. Just this once.
He rang a bell. When an attendant came in he said, "Summon Thranduil."
The elf nodded and left at once, closing the door securely behind him.
Oropher swallowed wine and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. If what Amdir and the Lady Galadriel said was true… And her powers had never been wrong…
The door opened, and the prince of Greenwood marched inside, standing straight and tall. Oropher opened his eyes and turned to see Thranduil.
"You summoned me, Father?" Thranduil asked.
"Yes," Oropher said shortly. "Come and see."
He handed his son the paper and turned away so he would not have to see the expression on Thranduil's face.
In the silence that followed, Oropher started to speak. "It is clear now that we need more allies. Can we truly count on the Elendili, and would even the elves of Lindon be enough? Even combined with Amdir's forces, it's not enough, it will never be enough."
Thranduil was silent. His face was stark-white but apart from that his fear did not show.
"We need more," Oropher said. "The problem is: where is it?"
There was more ominous silence.
"We can search out only one person, and pray to the Valar for the best." Oropher said strangely emotionless.
Thranduil looked up.
"Search out the shieldmaiden." His father said. "If she is truly sent by the Valar and the All-Father, then I fear she may be the only one to help us all."
"Yes, Father."