Chapter Eight

Under the Moon, the king marches on,

Around the hills and over plains he has gone.

With a hundred hands that bear the spear and bow,

And another thousand of mallet and plow.

For a home they search on

Till the banners are raised and all is won.

…..

There would be many titles written in the future about the events that woud bring about the kingdom of Gondolin, The Reclamation, The Charge of the Firstborn, The Rise of the Silver City, the Rebirth of the Disposessed. One thing remains true out of all of them however, this sudden emergence is the first step that would establish the Elven kingdom of Gondolin.

It is the year of TAC 777-861, eleven generations in the kings that sit on Arnor's throne since the Battle of the Last Alliance with Earendur sitting for the first time as king of the great kingdom of man. In Imladris, Elrond celebrates the birth of his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir from his wife, Celebrian, daughter of Galadriel of Lothlorien. As the kingdoms east of the Great Sea however continues on with their daily lives however, the hidden kingdom of Gondolin starts the campaign of the realization of their king's vision on making them a proper home in Middle-Earth.

In the years that would follow there would be many speculations as to what really kicks off the Grand campaign of Gondolin. Some would say that the entire army marches unto the open fields leveling the entirety of the area. Others would mention that the Eagles of Manwe help the Elves by driving out everything in their way. Many would tell instead that it is due to the fact that the King of Gondolin is forced in the Campaign due to a small group of Elves disobeying him and breaking the secrecy that the Hidden Kingdom so highly prioritized.

All of them are wrong of course, and at the same time also right. While the speculations miss the target answer in a mile wide radius, they have snippets of truth into it.

The Eagles for example has little to nothing in hand for the invasion. While they would gladly perch and make their Eyries on the tallest peaks of the Blue Mountains, keeping an eye on Gondolin and for any servants of the enemy that would crawl under the sun; they care little for the troubles of elf and man. The Eagles of Manwe would not intervene on the business of those that walk the Earth unless for a couple of reasons. First of course is if their lofty homes are threatened by something and secondly, only if Manwe, the king of the Valar orders them so or some of his retainers might.

While the Eagles under Gwaihir the Windlord however do not participate in Gondolin's business, a single Eagle does. Hedwig is Harry Potter's familiar in his previous life. Their bond suffices it to say is unique. Bereft of parents and friends, besieged with loneliness, Hedwig becomes the most important being in his life before Hogwarts. His familiar thus shares the sentiment the same way. Thus when Harry finally died and gets reborn in this world, his familiar's soul follow, unwilling that he be alone. Manwe, the Lord of all those that flies sees this unconditional love between the two and allows the small owl to be reborn as one of his servants.

The presence of Hedwig of course is a great boon to the campaign and both parts of Maedhros agrees wholeheartedly. Any campaign or sortie would need scouting of the land. Only a fool would not do reconnaissance before charging into an unknown area filled with untold dangers. Middle-Earth is a world full of magical beings and creatures. While the former lands of the Kingdom of Gil-Galad flourished under the care of the Elves, not many of the animals that live there retain their pacifistic states when the Elves finally left the lands of Lindon. Trolls, the occasional orc pack, wargs, human and dwarf bandits, wandering Halfling tribes, and of course the ever raiding party of goblins that have secret dens on the edges of the Blue Mountains tend to now walk the lands of Lindon. Thus Hedwig's rare ability to see from high above without worry is an invaluable resource that Maedhros thanks the Valar for.

As for the Elves of Gondolin this is the moment that many of them have been truly expecting the past eight years. Everyone of course can recall when their soon to be destined king announces his desire and his plan for them to expand the borders of Ondolinde and create a home for everyone. As he aptly pronounces to the gathered crowds: "Gondolin as beautiful as it is, is simply a fortress, a necessity we built to defend ourselves from the horrors of the darkness. What we must put effort to build is Ondolinde, a land to care for and defend as our home! Lands that we can travel, whose woods we can walk under eaves without fear of being killed or raided, that is the home I wish for us all!"

Ever since then the entirety of Gondolin has prepared for this. Non-essential duties and materials are set aside for the sake of the greater good. Recruitment is made for the occupational force (though it soon becomes obvious that there is no need for forceful recruitment since there is a literal flood of volunteers), and finalization of training for the professional military arm of Gondolin is made.

Now here is everyone present, ready and waiting for the signal.

At the front line riding fine mounts of dappled grey and brown are Elves with leather armor with thin chain mail below. They're all lightly armored though the massive longbows at their backs give warning to their skill. They are all wearing cloaks of dull green and grey that is the common color of the countryside. They are the Elven Rangers, trained for this very hour. Their specific purpose is close Recon and Intelligence, to take out threats if they could or otherwise provide the necessary information back to their king. Stealth is their friend and silence is their companion. They are the hunters in the dark and many of them are volunteers from the Teleri kindred.

At their backs looking the exact opposite of the Elven Rangers is the professional army of Gondolin. To say that Maedhros deviates from the usual battle doctrine of the Elves would be the understatement of the century.

Normal Elven doctrine in battle would be fluid and agile, concentrating on getting to grips with their foes where their superior natural grace and sword skill would be able to overcome their foe. That is why their armor reflects their doctrine, light, agile and fast that gives them much space and maneuverability for their flowing swordsmanship skills. One on one, no Orc would be able to fight a battle tested elf with all his long years of experience. In a pitched battle however, swordsmanship skills count for shit. One stab is all it takes to bring down even an immortal elf.

The soul of Maedhros in him finds it hard to swallow the realization that the very battle doctrine of the Eldar ever since they start clubbing the first Dark Lord's minions is highly ineffective. He is the general of the Elves who is executing said bad doctrine after all.

Thus after some meditation which involves digging through anything the Harry Potter part of his soul can remember about pitched battles via history of his previous world (which takes about two weeks of sitting and not moving . His mother and father has to drag his sorry ass of the end of the waterfall when his physical body collapsed from exhaustion). Both souls then agree to hash out Elven Doctrine 2.0 to avoid waste of Elven lives in the event of a pitch battle.

After a lot of debate and arguments when Maedhros proposes his new army plan to the Council, everyone finally agrees that they revise the way they fight. The main army of Elves are repurposed, instead of staggered lines to be replaced by clear cut formations able to support one another and hold their ground. Swords are still retained as a weapon and swordsmanship skill is still highly valued but their ability to act as a unit are put into primary focus.

Now instead of the sword as the primary weapon of Elven infantry, they are replaced with deadly spears almost reaching ten feet in length. The Light Elven armor on the other hand are totally revamped. Elven spearmen of Gondolin are well-equipped with fine hauberks of scale armor, strong sturdy shields in a leaf design, alongside tall decorated helms. Like the Gondolin of old however, the regiments of New Gondolin pick the color of white and silver in their garb alongside the blue and fiery sun that represents Maedhros' banner. They are basically a balance of medium and heavy infantry, a total far cry from the Eldar armies of old.

Their battle doctrine is also different. Fighting solo is literally eschewed upon. The new Elven regiments of Gondolin are trained instinctively to know the mind of his brothers-in-arms in whatever unit he is assigned on. Fighting as one body and one mind a battle is prioritized. Elves excel in almost keeping up with one another naturally thus in mock battles, watching the Gondolin Regiments fight is like looking in a choreograph dance or presentation.

Surprisingly majority of the army of Gondolin are from volunteers of the Vanyarin kindred.

However the most numerous of the campaign are not the Rangers nor the specialized Cavalry Archers, not even the army of Gondolin, no. It is the large amount of workers, cooks, masons and anyone needed to start up forts and palisades that would serve as a backbone for any future town or settlement that the Elves of Gondolin would start. These are spearheaded of course logically by many Noldor families. It is said that the Dwarves are the best builders of Middle-Earth. Maedhros would like to see how they would fare well against the Noldor kindred of Gondolin. Fast, meticulous and proud, they are like ants in steroids when it comes to things that they desire to create. It would be them that would lay the foundation of the kingdom of Gondolin.

"Elves of Gondolin!" the voice of Maedhros is clear as the noonday sun(Secret magnifying voice spell there) as every elven eye in the vicinity turn to stare at the figure clad in silver, blue and white.

His robes are pristine grey with borders of white emblazoned with silver. Blue lapes décor th se blue hauberk scales of his armor lining the edge of his sleeves and robes. He wears only a thin chest piece of gold with a single blue gem at its middle. His helmet however is the most impressive. With wings on its sides, it extends back giving it a royal and noble look. Peircing green eyes can be seen through the openings of his helmet looking down at his people.

"All that remains of our race that desire to call this land home are these people that stand beside you. Our ancestors once stand as stewards of this vast and beautiful land and a future full of promise. However in their pride and divisions, they failed that sacred charge and fell to ruin. The light that they have sought in the Silmarils for light long lost only aided those divsions. It's hope becomes a curse. Today that curse comes to an end! Our kindred's divisions, pride and prejudice must become a thing of the past. For we now press onward to the unknown in the belief that our kind has not yet seen its end. That we, the Elves of Middle-Earth can still stand in the belief of unity, family and home. Trust each other in the road ahead for at long last we stand here at the threshold of destiny. For today we will restore the glory of our race. Today we will rebuild our future and what we have lost and build our homeland!" he sighs though as he stares at the open skies now gleaming in the dawn.

"And may the Light of the Valar guide us,"

For a moment everyone is silent, then a clap, followed by a thund and another…..and another soon the entire gathered expeditionary force are cheering and hollering, their hearts burning with inner fire. Maedhros only smiles at the blazing souls gathered below. Drawing his borrowed sword from the barracks, he points it at the direction of Forlindon.

"Then onward into destiny we go! For Gondolin, for our home!"

….

Beleg is not a complicated Elf as far as he's concerned. He fights for those that he cares for and cares little for glory or pride. In his current age of seventy, he is only thirty years before he reaches his majority. His skill however at the bow and the sword is so natural and great that it does not take much to convince the Vanyarin commander to let him join the support auxiliary force as an archer. If it is anyone else, Beleg knows they would get a good swatting on the arse before being sent back in humiliation or shame.

He has always known that he is the rebirth of the infamous Beleg Strongbow of the Elder Days. Like all Reincarnates however, much of what he remembers before are fuzzy. It is more akin to looking through at a foggy glass. All you can see are shadows of memories but never going deeper than that.

Yet so infamous is he in his previous life that Beleg can find manuscripts and records of his old self via tales, stories and even books that the wandering tribes interned at the Library of Gondolin. Beleg Strongbw, Marchwarden of King Thingol of Doriath, most trusted of all advisors of the king and one who manages to hold the marches of the kingdom of Doriath against the foul soldiers and beasts of the Dark Lord. He has never lost a major battle spearheaded by himself, other than the major battle of Nirnaeth Anoeriad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears which is fated to happen. Ironically the one who brings around Beleg's demise is through the hands of Turin, the human adopted son of Thingol whom he loves as a brother.

He cannot remember how it happens thanks to his blurry memories but all he can glean from the thick fog is the bright crack of lightning in the dark sky before a looming shadow. After that is pain, and then darkness. Beleg shakes himself off of the memories as he instead focuses on fingering his bow, testing the tension of the string to prevent it from getting taut. No matter who he is before, he is here and now ready to fight for his king and for his friend. Unlike the rest of the Elves whose loyalty is to Gondolin as a whole, Beleg's leans more on the once and future king's. Maedhros has always been kind to him ever since his younger days. The soon-to-be-king is both a good friend and a good teacher. It is him who refined and cultivated Beleg's natural skill of a sword and bow making it possible for him to join the professional army of Gondolin so early in his age.

Now he has a chance to repay the favor.

The campaign is nothing like Beleg or any other elf has envisioned. Many of them has been expecting a great battle, or a series of battles with their mighty force acting like a tidal wave of destruction enveloping everything and everyone in its path. Instead it is anything but a battle.

Their once and future king has instead divided the mighty army of almost eight thousand elves into four different Expeditionary Groups. When their king, Maedhros explains his plan, it completely goes over his head. As far as Beleg however understands it, the First Expeditionary Group would push forward before pausing in a certain defensible area or field where the supporting Noldor could establish fortifications and the beginning of a settlement with the Group's military arm protecting it. While the First pause and build, the Second Expeditionary Group would push onward before finding a secure spot like the first also and repeat the process. Then the Third, then the Fourth.

Beleg likes it. The way he sees it, it would cut the time needed in building, settling and fighting quite a lot. The Ranger and the Cavalry Archer Corps however would be free to move from one group to another, their assigned tasks giving them freedom to rotate into where they are desperately needed. All in all it suits the Elven way of style and life of speed, precision and accuracy despite their deviation from their former battle tactics.

That is why Beleg is here right now with his comrades trying their utmost to turn the giant Mountain Troll into past tense.

The first objective of the Campaign would be the conquest and pacification of Forlindon. Once the capital of Gil-Galad, now it is home to all sorts of creatures that settled the wide forests and small hills. Unfortunately ever since the lessening of power of the Elves in the area and the absence of presence of Arnor, it has become a breeding ground for all sorts of trouble.

It's a good thing too that they are following Maedhros' pre-prepared plan instead of marching in headfirst. The Ranger Corps barely manage to scout and clear the foot of the Blue Mountains before they encounter extremely "large" resistance.

"INCOMING!" the shout of their Captain is more than enough to make the cadre of archers to dive sideward as a giant rock, the size of a small parapet lands on where ten Elves are standing in formation before.

As for Beleg, he breaks his fall with a roll, arrow snapping into place in his bow immediately and letting go. The massive shaft buries itself on the arm-pit of a very angry and large Mountain Troll who roars in agony as the pinpoint accurate shot dives itself past the thick hide, muscle and flesh into its tendons. Though it does not fully stop the giant arm from moving, it does the trick of slowing it down.

"Everyone aim for its eyes!" roars one of the captains. Dozens upon dozens of arrows immediately respond heading straight to one beady black eye. A large arm however covers it the last second, the thick hide of the arm serving as a pincushion. It's free arm however rips a tree off its roots, starting to use it like a large baton barely avoided by a group of Elven archers.

"Take cover!" the rest of them need no more encouragement on falling back as the Mountain Troll hurls the giant tree with the strength of a catapult with double the speed.

The powerful crash is teeth rattling for Beleg. Even though none of the Elves are hit, its impact force is strong enough to throw many of them off their trees and two are even sent flying. Mountain trolls are always a pain to deal with even during the Elder Days.

You see trolls can usually be classified into three categories.

The most common of course are the forest trolls. They're usually the smallest of the three and can be found in the wilds and dark forested regions. Some are only as tall as three men, but they are usually mediocre in intelligence (Think of the troll that Bard killed via cart at The Hobbit). They usually attack travelers and unsuspecting farms far from civilization.

Secondlly are cave trolls. Cave trolls are dim-witted and rather peaceful most of the time with their concerns only for food. They usually live in caves with three to four of their numbers, going out only at nights when food is scarce. Their stupidity and strength makes them perfect captives and tools for war by many dark beasts like goblins or Orcs.

Thirdly and the most dangerous are Mountain Trolls. Mountain Trolls are extremely territorial and have the size of a wall parapet. They tower even through walls sometimes. Surprisingly they are vegeterians using their tusk like nose to eat berries and fruits. They also tend not to leave their perceived territories for whatsoever any reason. They are however extremely hostile to anything that breathes that catches their eye, even their fellow Mountain Trolls. They are in shorter terms, killers of the highest variety, able to rip trees and hurl large stones with tremendous ease.

"Damned monster!" Beleg curses as another giant boulder goes flying over his head heading to two archers at the back. The two thankfully have strong reflexes and manage to dash away, barely making it out a hairsbreadth before the stone sends the entire ground shaking. An angered roar makes him look up to see the troll ripping another boulder off the ground aiming it another direction of Elves.

Not for the last time he is glad that the army isn't here. If they are, the casualties might have been devastating. As it is though, Beleg knows that the troll must be brought down. As good as the Elven Archers and Scouts are in dodging, the troll would soon be lucky on squashing one of them into a paste.

As he stares at the giant, once more the familiar feeling of experience and memories of his old life floods his mind and soul. Instinctively he grabs the ash tipped, arrows at his quiver. Unlike the thin and razor sharp arrows preffered by the Elves, this he personally designed. The arrows are thick and dipped in hardened tar and ash. They are also the same size of a human arrow only more heavier. They are designed for one thing and one thing only, to pierce armor.

Before he knows what he is doing, Beleg is firing. If asks what he is targeting and why, he would not have been able to answer. All he knows is that his hand is firing and his eyes know which exactly it is aiming for. In the span of seconds, almost sixteen of the heavy-ash tipped arrows are flying towards the Mountain Giant. Pained roars and mewls come from it immediately as the arrows once more drive through hide, flesh and bone with two extras now standing in replacement where the giant's eye is. All sixteen targets are soft ligaments, joints and bone pivot points. Beleg Strongbow in his past life has brought down more than one Mountain Giant and in this life, this would not be the last.

The giant unable to support its own weight with its now fully damaged limbs and completely blinded, roars one more in time in both agony and frustration before crashing on the ground immobile, face first. Immediately one of the Elven Rangers jump forward with a heavy spear and with one stroke pins the giant's head on the ground, the metal cutting through the skull and straight to the brain. It dies without pain.

Immediately Beleg's other companions swarm him, each congratulating him for the successful kill. Breathing deeply at the stress caused by firing sixteen arrows in one go and with the combination of lost memories of a past life slowly filling him, Beleg just smiles weakly at his compatriots as he allows himself to be thanked and congratulated. He knows for some reason that it is moments like these that would give him the much needed companionship for his fellow soldiers. Bragging and saying it is nothing would just the sour mood.

A whinny of a horse catches his attention making everyone immediately stiffen and salute at the sight of the familiar winged helm at the head of their king. Looking behind, he can see the rest of the military arm of the First Expedition have caught up and are looking in wonder at the corpse of the Mountain Giant.

He sees the king lean in as the Ranger-General of the Ranger Corps whispers something to him before pointing straight at Beleg who freezes as every eye in the vicinity is trained on him. He might have been friends with his majesty when he's young, but now he's a soldier underneath him.

That is why he is totally surprised as Maedhros rides his horse in front of him, his fair face grinning beneath his helmet as he stares down at the young archer.

"Well done young Beleg, I knew that I would be expecting great things from you the moment I took notice of you before,"

Two weeks in the Campaign

Maedhros has always known that the campaign of pacification of Forlindon would be long. He does not however imagine that it would be this tedious. The First Expeditionary Group literally has to fight off different predatory creatures from normal bears that does not take it well that another group of two legs are driving them off their homes to bands of Orcs that established camps in this area. Thankfully the latter are no more wise about tactics without the will of their dark master and have happily charged the Elves spitting and snarling. They are met by the wall of shields and spears of Gondolin's foot soldiers and are now ashes on the ground.

Still despite the progress the First Expeditionary Group is making, the trek is hard. Before when Gil-Galad still rules this realm, dirt roads litter the area (something which the Harry part of him fully frowns upon) making travel a little easier. With many generations since the departure of the Elves of Lindon, the wild finally starts to retake the land with thick bushes and grass now covering the once clear roads. Thus despite being heavily tempted to simply push through, Maedhros assigns the supporting Noldor kindred of his group to start laying out flat stones.

It has been one of his original plans actually. When the Romans started to build their empire, they've realized early on that it would be hard if not impossible to bring goods and trade to their different cities and settlements. Thus during the early days of its expansion, the marching legions always bring slabs of stone and marble to build highways and roads for travel and trade purposes. This sets them apart from the other countries of the world that until even the passing of his new life, people still use them.

The Maedhros' part of him fully agrees to copy this idea from him and thus with both of them in agreement, it is assigned to the support group of its expeditionary forces to bring with them carts pulled by oxen and horses filled with nothing but flat stones.

Now as the entire military arm scatter around to protect the workers laying down the stone and marble on the road, he smirks as he can hear their grumbling. He understands them of course, Noldor are proud of their work and being reduced to shaping stones and leaving them connected on the ground is not the grand work they have envisioned when they first set out. He leaves them to it though, he knows that once Lindon is united under the Kingdom of Gondolin, they would be thankful for them on the grunt work they are doing right now.

Currently though Maedhros takes the map that the Ranger Corps updated for him. The destination of the First Expeditionary Group would be Four streams coming down from the mountains. While not exactly the kind of defensive area necessary, it is simply too good a chance not to put up a strong presence there. The land is rich and healthy, able to accommodate large fields of farmland with great irrigation. It is also a source of fresh water, something that every community desperately needs. After much debating with himself, he finally decides that the First Expeditionary Force would start their first step on claiming Forlindon for the Elves is to build a fort there. Having a strong military presence in the area would make the area safe and under their control.

Several smaller human farms are present in the area unfortunately. Early information from the Rangers tell that they are mostly either exiles, criminals seeking refuge from the wild or the occasional farmer simply tired of taxes from their liege lord. Either way they are present on the surrounding area and that poses a problem.

Maedhros of course expects this. Forlindon is big and it is wishful thinking that it would be totally uninhabited. The question however remains on what to deal with its current locals. The easiest (and the Maedhros' part of him) solution suggests that they simply torch the poor sods. It is not difficult in fact. Just burn a few thatched buildings here and there and the terrified locals would easily get the memo that there is a new owner in town.

The Harry part of him however would never do that for any reason whatsoever. That simply goes against his ingrained Gryffindor nature and while he would not lose sleep whatsoever on kicking a random goblin off the mountainside, burning people's homes just because he can is simply crossing the line.

Thus after a lot of internal debate again, both he and Maedhros agree that they at least give them the chance to join the budding kingdom. Harry having access to Maedhros' memories after all reasons out that humans have been able to join the Eldar during the Elder Days as allies and friends. Maedhros' also grudgingly admits that it would be simply poor taste to start off the kingdom of Gondolin by burning and scaring away hapless humans. If they comply, he would allow them to live among them but if they do not? It's fire and brimstone, period.

Thankfully the Rangers' reports have given Maedhros the perfect opportunity to present themselves to these humans in a good light. He has been wondering at first why the human settlements never get close to the four rich streams but instead stick close to the forests. Why would you try to plant your crops on hard and foresty ground when there's a positively rich land many a stone throw's away?

The reason becomes obvious. There is apparently a clan of goblins setting up camp at the middle of the fertile fields laying claim on the entire area. They demand daily tribute from the human farms in exchange for them not being routed out.

Well, they would soon find out that the new owners are finally in town once again. It would give many of the Greenhorns of the group to wet their blades and as a bonus gain them the gratitude of the human settlers.

It's a simply win-win opportunity.