Author's Notes
Dear reader, as we venture further into this tale, I must remind you that we tread upon the path of an alternate universe. Here, the elves dwell in a modern society, their ancient heritage intertwined with the advancements of contemporary life.
In this narrative twist, Morgoth's minions, save for Sauron, are not fallen Ainur but spirits of the void, initially created by Eru to safeguard the cosmos. Some among them were corrupted by Melkor during his initial exile.
There comes a scene where credit is due to Telcontar Rules and her enchanting tale "Chance Encounter." Additionally, a heartfelt appreciation to Sarah F1992 for contributing ideas, dialogues, and even songs to this story
In my weaving of the Noldorin family tree, I've taken certain liberties, condensing the generations and including characters who might not otherwise have been part of the narrative if we strictly adhered to canon. Allow me to illuminate the ages of the House of Finwë, measured in Valian years:
Finwë: 75,000 Valian years
Sons of Finwë:
Fëanor: 55,000 Valian years
Fingolfin: 50,000 Valian years
Finarfin: 48,000 Valian years
Elrond: 45,000 Valian years
Sons of Fëanor:
Maedhros: 30,000 Valian years
Maglor: 28,000 Valian years
Caranthir: 25,000 Valian years
Curufin: 23,000 Valian years
Celegorm: 20,000 Valian years
Amrod: 18,000 Valian years
Amras: 15,000 Valian years
Sons of Fingolfin:
Fingon: 28,000 Valian years
Turgon: 25,000 Valian years
Aredhel: 19,000 Valian years
Sons of Finarfin:
Finrod: 23,000 Valian years
Artanis (Galadriel): 20,000 Valian years
Finduilas: 18,000 Valian years
Twins Angrod and Aegnor: 15,000 Valian years
Sons of Elrond:
Twins Elladan and Elrohir: 20,000 Valian years
Arwen: 17,000 Valian years
Sons of Fingon:
Erenion Gil-galad: 8,000 Valian years
Sons of Turgon:
Idril: 7,000 Valian years
Nellas shares Lúthien's age of 20,000 years, while Ariel is 17,000 years old.
Gandalf was introduced to both Finduilas and Aredhel, but their greetings were abruptly halted by a knock at the manor's entrance. Curious, everyone except Gandalf made their way to see who it might be. To their surprise, they found the mayor accompanied by two other elves, their expressions a mix of shock and awe at the sight of one of the Valar in their small town.
After bowing respectfully, the mayor addressed Nienna, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Sorry for disturbing you, my lady, but much has happened in the last few hours."
He glanced briefly at those present before continuing. "I was having a meeting with the town council when all of us received strange phone calls...At first, I didn't believe it, but then I watched videos posted online by people recording very strange events at the lake."
Luthien's expression turned worried as she inquired, "The events at the lake were recorded? How much did you see?"
A councilwoman, her nerves evident in her voice, replied, "Everything...we recognized the house where the second children are staying immediately."
The mayor interjected with excitement, "We were about to investigate when we saw you appear out of thin air in front of the house."
Turning to Luthien, Ariel, and Nellas, he urged, "I know they came with you, my ladies...your majesties would do this town a great favor if you convince them to stay for the festival and participate in the events."
Luthien's incredulous gaze met his as she responded, "We are all thankful for your hospitality, and I wish I could help you with that. But you must understand that the second children want to draw as little attention as possible and they do not wish to reveal their true identities."
Finduilas, staring in disbelief, added, "I'm afraid it's a little too late for that, dear cousin."
Nienna, her expression thoughtful, addressed the mayor. "There is nothing they can do now to remain in secret in this town...but at least let them believe their identities and their deeds are unknown to us...at least for a while."
She offered a brief smile before continuing, "I have made sure that no videos or news of these events will reach the rest of Valinor...at least until the second children are ready...I didn't know the events would unfold in such a way."
She turned to the mayor with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting genuine appreciation for the quaint charm of the town.
"This is a lovely town," Nienna remarked, her voice carrying a sincere tone. "I think I will stay for the festival and assist in convincing Gandalf and his companions to join us."
Her gaze swept over the group, her expression firm yet reassuring.
"Just wait here for us as we speak with them. It's best that they see as few people as possible before emerging."
After the mayor nodded in agreement and retreated to his manor, Nienna sighed softly and closed the door behind him. As they regrouped near Gandalf, he addressed them with a knowing smirk.
"I assume you all have many questions?" he said, his tone laced with amusement. He turned to Nienna with a playful glint in his eye.
"When the ban was lifted, I knew immediately what had transpired."
Observing the emotions flickering across their faces, Gandalf could see the profound impact that recent events had left on each of them. Their expressions carried the weight of what they had witnessed in Middle-earth, and it was evident that the events had stirred deep emotions within them.
Finduilas, unable to contain her excitement, was the first to speak up.
"Are they still sleeping?"
Gandalf, relighting his pipe with a practiced motion, a habit they all found curious, nodded in affirmation.
"Yes, they are," he replied calmly. "I've cast a spell to ensure they remain undisturbed while we plan our next steps."
Nienna locked eyes with Gandalf, her expression serious as she posed her question.
"Gandalf, or should I say Olorin," she began, acknowledging his Maia name, "we also need to discuss the events that have unfolded on Arda since the banishment of Melkor. There are troubling developments that my kin need to be informed about."
Gandalf's demeanor grew solemn as he prepared to address their concerns.
"It's a lengthy tale," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "But it's one that must be shared with representatives from each race."
Just then, the ringing of a cellphone broke the solemnity of the moment, drawing their attention to Aredhel's flushed face as she took the call.
The tension in the room was palpable as they waited for Aredhel's call to end. When she finally hung up, her troubled expression was evident to all.
"I understand. We will see what we can do about it," she said finally to the unknown caller.
Turning to her companions, Aredhel relayed the unsettling news. "That was the mayor," she began. "Our location is now public domain... The local news crew is coming this way."
Luthien rose from her chair, her discomfort evident. "I will wait for them outside and talk to them," she declared, her voice firm.
Aredhel, too, stood up, determination in her eyes. "I will go with you," she stated, her resolve matching Luthien's.
Nienna nodded, her expression grave. "And I," she added, her voice resolute.
The others remained silent, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air as they waited for what would come next.
After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened, revealing Nienna, Luthien, and Aredhel accompanied by a lone reporter.
Once introductions were exchanged, Nienna addressed the group. "You must all know that we are already on the air," she informed them, her gaze steady. "We agreed to let one of the reporters inside, although it was not a unanimous decision."
The reporter interjected, explaining the urgency of the situation. "They need to come out... and the sooner, the better. Once the news spreads, there will be other news crews from Valmar, Tirion, and Alqualondë, not to mention curious onlookers."
Luthien's protective instincts flared as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. "They are not ready for that?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper.
The reporter's response was solemn. "With all due respect, my lady, social media in this town is going crazy... The people are hungry for more stories of the lands in the east and to find out more about the travelers, and this is little compared to what will happen in all Valinor."
She turned to Nienna, her tone pleading. "Nothing can stop this now."
Nienna's gaze shifted to the small device on the reporter's clothing, a marvel of Feanor's ingenuity. She understood the implications of its use and the power it held.
The technology, an ingenious creation of Feanor dating back centuries, possessed remarkable capabilities far beyond mere recording.
Not only could it capture events in real-time, but it had the remarkable ability to transform them into immersive narratives. Using nothing but the narration of a story or someone's singing, it could weave intricate tales, complete with vivid imagery and accompanying music.
The device was known to craft intricate music videos or cinematic scenes, adapting to the tone and mood of the narrative. It even had the remarkable skill of generating background music tailored to the setting and atmosphere of the story being told.
Feanor's inspiration for this device stemmed from observing the Valar projecting images of historical events in the past. He ingeniously adapted this concept to create a device capable of not only capturing but also embellishing the essence of any story it encountered.
While major studios predominantly handled grand-scale productions in Valinor, Feanor's invention democratized storytelling. It empowered individuals with compelling narratives to create their own visual masterpieces, irrespective of their background or resources. Ordinary people could now bring their stories to life in breathtaking detail, with the device seamlessly translating their imagination into captivating cinematic experiences.
The versatility of the device was truly remarkable, from intimate personal anecdotes to epic tales of valor and adventure. Its influence permeated every corner of Valinor's culture, enriching the lives of its inhabitants.
"Very well," Nienna acquiesced, her voice steady. "The people of this town, and eventually all Valinor, should not be kept in the dark on this matter."
But she had one condition. "Just one condition... they must not know that we are watching their lives as they tell their stories."
With a subtle gesture, Nienna indicated the device, her eyes conveying the weight of her request. "Done, I have blocked the device to them," the reporter confirmed, complying with Nienna's terms.
Then, addressing the unseen audience, Nienna made a plea. "I beg all of you who are watching this... do not tell the emissaries from beyond the sea that we know who they are and what they have done... at least not until they decide to tell their story... please just go easy on them."
Nienna fixed her gaze on Gandalf with a sense of resolve.
"I think it's time," she declared, her voice carrying a weight of determination.
Gandalf nodded in silent agreement. After a few moments, he spoke.
"They are coming out of their rooms."
As the group listened, they heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching and murmured voices growing nearer. Moments later, the door swung open.
Bilbo was the first to step inside, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the unfamiliar figures seated with Gandalf, Luthien, Nellas, and Ariel. He hesitated, momentarily frozen in place, uncertain how to react. The others quickly picked up on his reaction, their own expressions shifting to a mix of curiosity and surprise.
"Bilbo, what's happening?" Frodo began to ask, his question interrupted by the sight that greeted him as he entered the room.
Three of the figures were clearly elves. One of them, they recognized as one of the elves who had spoken with Luthien outside the city, her features etched in their memories from that encounter. However, it was the fourth figure that left them truly bewildered
Tall and imposing, she exuded an aura of power, majesty, and authority unlike anything they had ever encountered. Even the presence of the dark lord paled in comparison to hers.
Despite their awe at the wonders of Valinor, the mere presence of this mysterious elf eclipsed all they had seen thus far.
Gandalf broke the silence.
"Come and sit with us… for there is much to be discussed."
Luthien felt uneasy about how the events were unfolding, sympathizing with her new friends. Her people, the Sindar, were among the most secluded of all elves, not accustomed to the fast pace and lifestyle of the rest of Valinor, although the younger generations eagerly participated in social media life.
Like her companions, she couldn't help but stare at some of the Second Children with amazement. Now that she knew who they were and what they had been through, she wanted nothing more than to talk to them openly and help them. Their humility only endeared them to her more.
Nellas shared Luthien's unease, feeling even more frustrated that she couldn't do anything to help them maintain their secrecy. As someone who preferred solitude and shunned the spotlight, she now felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness toward them.
Nienna was surprised that no one asked about her identity, despite sensing their curiosity. She observed each of them with fascination, eager to speak with them, but first, she needed to understand what had transpired in Middle-earth.
"Please, Gandalf," Nienna's voice cut through the silence, gentle yet urgent. "Tell us what transpired in Arda after we vanquished Melkor."
Nienna's request hung in the air like a heavy shroud, prompting an anxious exchange of glances among the fellowship. The travelers' nerves were palpable, their expressions reflecting a mixture of trepidation and anguish, fearing that their identities and deeds were on the verge of discovery.
As Gandalf began to recount the events following Melkor's banishment, a hush fell over the room. Nienna's serene countenance faltered slightly, a shadow of concern crossing her features at the revelation of Melkor's return. Though she maintained her composure, her eyes betrayed a depth of contemplation, hinting at the gravity of the ancient threat's resurgence.
Gandalf delved into the tumultuous aftermath of Melkor's return. His words painted a vivid picture of the chaos that ensued, of mountains forged and terrains reshaped by the Dark Lord's malevolent will.
"He did not return alone," Gandalf continued, his voice steady yet tinged with solemnity. He spoke of the corrupted spirits of the void, their forms twisted by Melkor's influence. Some took shapes of shadow and flame, becoming the Balrogs, fearsome beings of fire and darkness. Others adopted more subtle forms, manipulating the minds of lesser creatures and twisting them into horrors like orcs, a corrupted sentient race driven by malice and cruelty. The room grew heavy with the weight of these revelations, the air thick with a sense of foreboding.
Not all spirits succumbed to Melkor's corruption, Gandalf explained. Some sought dominion over Arda, worshipped as gods by the races of Men. His words painted a tapestry of conflict and heroism, of the great wars between the dwarves and Melkor, where brave heroes like Azaghal, Beren, Hurin, Turin, and Tuor fought against the forces of darkness. Despite their heroism and bravery, men and dwarves were on the brink of total defeat and annihilation, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
Nienna's gaze remained fixed on Gandalf, her expression a blend of concern and curiosity as she absorbed the magnitude of his tale. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a note of solemn inquiry. "But how did they defeat Melkor?" she asked, her words echoing the unspoken fears of those gathered, reflecting the desperate hope that lingered amidst the darkness.
Gandalf's response was measured, his gaze steady as he recounted the enigmatic downfall of the Dark Lord. His words hinted at divine intervention, at forces beyond mortal comprehension that cast Melkor into the void and sundered his kingdom.
As Gandalf's narrative drew to a close, Nienna nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. She agreed with Gandalf that the events that followed Morgoth's second banishment were better for another moment, as she didn't want to make the travelers feel uncomfortable. Turning her attention to the travelers, she greeted them with a gentle smile, her demeanor poised yet welcoming. "I believe proper introductions are in order," she declared, her voice imbued with warmth.
"My name is Nienna, and I am one of those who summoned Gandalf," Nienna's voice resonated through the chamber, her words carrying an air of authority and wisdom that left the company momentarily stunned.
For a moment, the Fellowship exchanged nervous glances, their minds racing with the possibility that Nienna, as one of the Valar, might already know their true identities and the purpose of their journey.
"One of the Valar," Aragorn thought briefly, his mind racing with questions about the divine beings of Middle-earth and their role in the unfolding events.
As he had done before with Luthien, Nellas, and Ariel, Gandalf proceeded to introduce each member of the company, their names echoing softly in the chamber like distant echoes of a forgotten melody.
"Mae govannen," Aredhel, Finduilas, and the reporter greeted in turn, their voices carrying a blend of curiosity and reverence.
"It's an honor to finally meet all of you," Nienna said, her tone warm and welcoming, though her penetrating gaze seemed to bore into the very souls of those present. "You are the first mortals that have come to the lands of Valinor since its creation long ago."
Finally, it was Aragorn who spoke first, still unsure of what to say.
"The honor is ours, my lady," he said, casting a brief glance at Gandalf, hoping for some reassurance.
"As I said before, my lady Nienna," Gandalf added, his voice steady and reassuring, "These are my loyal servants and friends who have chosen to accompany me on this journey."
Nienna's presence, though comforting, also brought a sense of unease to some members of the Fellowship, who wondered what secrets she might already hold and what impact her knowledge might have on their quest.
"Please, I beg all of you to call me Nienna," she urged, her words easing the tension in the room. "No need for titles or formalities." she urged, her voice warm and inviting.
Bilbo's question, born of his innate curiosity and sharp intellect, cut through the air like a dagger, prompting a collective realization among the travelers.
"Since we arrived I have seen many wondrous things, but among all the marvels I noticed that I have yet not seen old people or even middle aged," Bilbo observed, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.
The elves exchanged knowing glances, understanding the implications of Bilbo's inquiry.
"The only conclusion I have," he continued, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "Is that all of you are…"
"Immortal," Nellas interjected, her tone gentle yet resolute, her words echoing the unspoken truth that hung in the air like a heavy veil.
At this revelation, Kili's voice quivered with uncertainty as he gathered the courage to ask the question weighing on his mind.
"B..but then, how old are you?" he inquired, his words hesitant as they hung in the air, addressed to no one in particular.
Kili's question, though fraught with uncertainty, voiced the thoughts that lingered in the minds of all present, the very essence of their existence called into question by the revelation before them.
Aredhel's gaze softened with sympathy as she regarded Kili, understanding the weight of his question and the innocence behind it.
"How old do you think I am?" she asked gently, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy.
Kili hesitated for a moment before answering, "I thought you were in your late teens or early twenties, my lady."
Aredhel sighed before explaining, "We are young by the standards of our people. Years are counted differently here, but according to the timeline Gandalf provided, I was born a few centuries before what you call the First Age of the Sun. Ariel is the youngest in this room, and she was born at some point during the First Age."
To their surprise, tears welled up in Aredhel's eyes as she struggled to comprehend the concept of mortality. "I just can't comprehend mortality," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "How do all of you cope with death?"
The members of the Fellowship exchanged somber glances, each grappling with their own understanding of mortality and loss.
Faramir offered a sad smile before replying, "Death smiles at us all; all a man can do is smile back."
Aragorn added his own wisdom, saying, "Every mortal dies; not every mortal really lives. We try to live our lives as best we can until our hour comes."
Finduilas watched the exchange, her gaze lingering on Faramir with a mixture of admiration and empathy. She felt drawn to him, wishing to ease his pain and share in his burden.
"Wise words," she acknowledged, her voice soft as she addressed Faramir directly. His shy demeanor only endeared him to her further.
"I had many teachers," Aragorn explained, sensing Nienna's curiosity. "In Middle-earth and beyond."
Nienna's interest was piqued. "Beyond Middle-earth? Are there more than one continent? When we expelled Melkor into the Void after he destroyed the Lamps, there was only Valinor and Middle-earth."
Gandalf's voice carried the weight of ages as he responded to Kili's inquiry.
"The geography of Arda changed significantly, especially after the end of the first age of the sun," Gandalf explained solemnly. "There are other continents besides Middle-earth, but only Men dwell there."
Aragorn's eyes held a distant look as he added his own insights.
"I have traveled to some of those lands," Aragorn recounted, his voice tinged with memories of distant journeys. "In one of my travels to the eastern lands, far beyond the territories of the Easterlings and free from the suffocating grasp of Sauron, I encountered a remarkable man named Katsumoto. Initially, he took me and a friend as prisoners of war, but over time, he became our friend and mentor. He taught me invaluable lessons about how a man must navigate the fleeting moments we have in this world."
As Aragorn's words echoed through the room, a vivid memory unfolded in the minds of the audience—a younger Aragorn standing alongside two men, one bearing the features of the East and the other of Gondor.
Katsumoto's voice resonated in their memories as he posed a question, "You have nightmares?"
Aragorn's friend responded with a heavy heart, "Every soldier has nightmares."
Understanding crossed Katsumoto's face as he replied, "Only one who is ashamed of what he has done."
A solemn silence enveloped the scene as Katsumoto turned to both Aragorn and his friend, his gaze piercing yet compassionate.
"You both have seen many things?" he inquired.
Aragorn met Katsumoto's gaze with a somber nod.
"I have," he affirmed.
Katsumoto continued, his words carrying the weight of shared experience. "Yet you do not fear death, but sometimes you wish for it. Is this not so?"
Aragorn's response was a simple nod, acknowledging the truth in Katsumoto's observation.
"I also," Katsumoto confessed. "It happens to men who have seen what we have seen. But then I come to this place of my ancestors, and I remember... Like these blossoms, we are all dying. To know life in every breath, every cup of tea, every life we take. The way of the warrior."
As the memory of Aragorn's encounter with Katsumoto unfolded in the minds of the audience, a brief moment of distraction swept over the Elves and Nienna. Their gaze seemed to linger on the vivid imagery conjured by the memory, their expressions reflecting a depth of contemplation and perhaps a hint of nostalgia.
The members of the Fellowship exchanged subtle glances, noting the Elves and Nienna's momentary distraction. Some wondered if they were merely reflecting on the profound words spoken by Katsumoto, while others couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to their distraction.
Despite their curiosity, none of the Fellowship dared to inquire further. Instead, they remained attentive, allowing the conversation to continue without interruption.
As the memory faded, the impact of Katsumoto's wisdom lingered in the hearts of the audience, inspiring contemplation on mortality and the profound beauty, even if tinged with sadness, that could be found within its fleeting embrace.
Once Aragorn finished his tale, Thorin's voice trembled with concern as he posed the question that weighed heavily on his mind. "How many people know of our presence?"
Before Gandalf could respond, Ariel impulsively took charge of delivering the news, her urgency reflecting her impulsive nature. "All the people of this town know of your presence," she declared, her words landing like a sudden blow, leaving Thorin pale and wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of fear and confusion. His companions, too, were taken aback by this revelation, their shock evident.
Luthien shot Ariel a reproachful glance, silently chastising her for her abruptness.
Meanwhile, Nienna, sensing Thorin's unease, approached him with gentle curiosity, her keen perception delving into the depths of his soul. What she found there stirred a profound compassion within her—a glimpse into a life burdened by duty and responsibility, devoid of the softness and kindness that should have filled his formative years.
As she gazed into his troubled eyes, she saw a tale of discipline and honor woven into the very fabric of his being. Thorin had known only the weight of leadership, his childhood sacrificed at the altar of duty to his people and his family's legacy. It was a heavy burden for one so young, a burden that left him with little hope for his own happiness.
Feeling the weight of Thorin's unspoken struggles, Nienna's heart overflowed with empathy. With a tenderness born of understanding, she reached out and gently lifted his chin, guiding his gaze to meet hers. In that moment, she offered him a glimpse of solace, a respite from the relentless demands that had shaped his life.
"Please don't be afraid," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled soul. And then, moved by a surge of compassion, she drew him into her embrace—a simple gesture of comfort that spoke volumes of the warmth and kindness he had been denied for so long.
As Nienna's embrace enveloped Thorin, it left him momentarily paralyzed, his body stiff with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. Unused to such displays of kindness, he struggled to find his bearings, uncertain of how to respond to this unexpected gesture.
Yet amidst the uncertainty, there was a fleeting sense of peace that washed over him—a quietude that settled over his troubled thoughts like a gentle caress. In that moment of vulnerability, he felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a spark of warmth amidst the cold, unforgiving world he had known.
Though words eluded him in that moment, Thorin found himself inexplicably drawn to Nienna, the enigmatic Vala who had seen into the depths of his soul and offered him a measure of solace. It was a revelation—a brief respite from the burdens of leadership and the weight of his responsibilities, a moment of connection that left him longing for more.
After releasing Thorin from her embrace, Nienna stood before the fellowship, her gaze steady and her expression filled with sincerity.
"Now that you know the truth, we have a proposal," she began, her voice soft yet resolute, echoing through the room with quiet authority. "The mayor of this town has extended an invitation for you to participate in our upcoming festival."
Thorin, still visibly affected by Nienna's display of kindness, listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought.
"I know some of you want to return to your homelands as soon as possible," Nienna continued, her tone gentle yet persuasive, "but I promise you will all enjoy this town's hospitality."
Balin, ever the voice of reason, nodded in agreement. "My lady—pardon me, Nienna," he said respectfully, "we started this journey with the intention to accompany Gandalf and speak to the Valar. Since you are one of them, I believe a part of our mission is accomplished, although we still must discuss certain matters with your kin."
He turned to his companions, addressing them with a sense of gravitas. "We have much to consider," he said, his voice measured yet decisive. "We must discuss this among ourselves to make a decision."
Gandalf, standing beside Nienna, offered his support. "If we decide to stay, we will attend the events," he affirmed, his tone reassuring yet pragmatic. "But for now, we require a moment of privacy to deliberate."
As Aredhel smiled at the decision that the second children would at least consider their proposal, hope flickered in her eyes, mingled with uncertainty.
"The events are taking place in the local high school main hall… We will wait for you there," she informed them, her voice carrying a note of anticipation.
Once Nienna and the elves departed from the manor, Aredhel approached Luthien with a question heavy on her mind.
"Do you think they will accept our proposal?" she inquired, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Luthien shrugged in response, her expression reflecting her own doubts. "I really don't know… I just hope this is for the best," she confessed.
Turning her attention to the reporter, Luthien asked with a touch of irony, "Are you satisfied with the story so far?"
The reporter smiled broadly in response. "I am… I also have to go to the events for I have to cover the festival for the local news station… I will see you all there," She assured them.
As they made their way through town towards the high school, Aredhel seized the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity about Nienna's interaction with Thorin.
"What happened when you embraced Thorin?" she asked, her eyes reflecting genuine interest.
Nienna smiled sadly at her, a small tear escaping her eyes, revealing a rare vulnerability. "It broke my heart," she confessed
Aredhel's curiosity by Nienna's reaction led her to inquire further about Nienna's experience with Thorin, Nienna's expression softened, her gaze distant as she recalled the poignant moment. The other elves, though they remained silent, listened intently, their expressions reflecting a mix of empathy and curiosity.
"It was as if his soul was laid bare before me," Nienna began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I saw a life burdened with duty, weighed down by the expectations thrust upon him from a young age."
Aredhel listened intently, her eyes reflecting empathy for Thorin's plight, while the other elves leaned in, their curiosity piqued by Nienna's words.
"He was taught only of discipline, duty to his people, and honor," Nienna continued, her tone tinged with sorrow. "But amidst all that, there was a profound absence of kindness, of tenderness. His life seemed devoid of moments of softness, of genuine happiness."
Aredhel's heart ached at Nienna's words, understanding the depth of Thorin's struggle.
"And yet," Nienna went on, her voice barely above a whisper, "beneath the weight of his responsibilities, I sensed a flicker of hope—a longing for something more, something beyond the confines of his duty. It was a fragile ember amidst the darkness."
Aredhel reached out, gently placing her hand on Nienna's, offering silent comfort and understanding. while her companions remained silent, their hearts heavy with the weight of Thorin's burdens.
In that moment, they understood completely the conversation Thorin had with Balin about the quest for Moria. They saw beyond the facade of duty and honor, glimpsing the profound struggle that lay beneath—the burden of leadership, the weight of responsibility, and the stark reality of a life without choice.
They chatted a bit more until they reached the high school.
The hall was spacious, filled with the inhabitants of both towns and delegations from the courts. The mayor prepared to usher the Vala and her companions to his own table, making sure to reserve seats for the travelers in case they decided to come. Finduilas and Aredhel chose to remain with their friends instead of sitting at a table reserved for the Noldorin court. While the few delegates of the Telerin court were also seated at the same table.
For about an hour, they watched the competitions unfold, ranging from gymnastics to music, poems, and various sports. Amidst the excitement, they couldn't help but wonder if their guests would come.
"When they were beginning to lose hope, murmurs were heard near the entrance, soon capturing everyone's attention, even those participating in the events, as the second children arrived.
Guided by Gandalf, they entered as if embarking on an adventure, with the hobbits leading, followed by the dwarves and then the humans. The absence of their hoods allowed their features to be fully revealed, drawing impressed gazes from the elves. Seeing them in person was an entirely different experience compared to projected images.
Once seated, Nienna grinned at Gandalf. "You do know how to make an entrance."
After the mayor's introduction and welcoming words, the events resumed.
For a moment, silence fell as they all watched the proceedings. The travelers found themselves captivated by the elvish music, its enchanting melodies filling the air. While some songs were performed in traditional styles, the majority had a modern twist, reflecting the youthful participants. Despite the differences, all the songs and voices were beautiful, though occasionally perplexing to the second children.
With the festivities underway, the second children had the opportunity to observe more of elven society. They noted the youthfulness of the elves, yet subtle distinctions between the younger and older generations began to emerge, particularly in attire and demeanor.
"Do you like music?" Finduilas's sweet voice interrupted Faramir's reverie, drawing his attention away from the song.
He gazed at her smiling face, momentarily entranced. "I do, my lady... I must confess that I have never heard music as beautiful as this."
Finduilas reached out to touch his hand. "Please, call me Finduilas."
A blush crept onto Faramir's face, endearing to her. "I am sure there is also beautiful music in the east," she remarked.
Faramir returned her smile. "Indeed, my... Finduilas... some songs are merry, but others are sad... perhaps too sad for this beautiful land."
"Can you sing one of those songs?" Finduilas pleaded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Faramir's face flushed an even deeper shade of red. "My voice is not that great," he replied modestly.
Pippin, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, couldn't resist chiming in with a smirk. "Don't let him fool you, my lady... He has a good voice."
"Indeed he does," Kili added with a mischievous grin.
It took some convincing from Finduilas, Merry, Pippin, Fili, and Kili to finally coax Faramir into agreeing.
"Okay... I give up," he relented with a smile.
Finduilas smirked at the hobbits and the dwarf.
Faramir added, "Just one condition... that all of you also sing a song."
Pippin, Merry, Fili, and Kili, who were beginning to relax, grinned. "You got yourself a deal," they all agreed, along with Finduilas.
Once the mayor was informed, he stood up and approached the stage with Faramir to speak with the judges and make the announcement.
"As you all know, we have a group of special guests in our hometown," he began, addressing the crowd. Turning to Faramir, he added, "Lord Faramir will sing a song of distant shores that has never been heard before in Valinor."
He then explained to Faramir, "Don't be surprised if you hear background music, for the technology we use creates music based on the lands or the story where it's based."
As Faramir stood alone on the stage, a hush fell over the stadium, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy shroud. Then, a melancholic tune filled the space, capturing the audience's attention. Faramir's voice, filled with emotion, broke through the silence as he began to sing a song that resonated with the depths of his soul, a composition by someone he had encountered in his journeys as an emissary to distant lands: Odysseus.
The haunting melody transported the audience to another realm, weaving a tale of love, glory, and war in a land far from Middle-earth. Images flashed in their minds, painting a vivid picture of faces unknown to them. With eyes closed, Faramir poured his heart into the song, his thoughts drifting to his brother.
As he sang the poignant lyrics, the audience was moved by the raw emotion in his voice:
Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory
Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended
Just remember me
I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun
I'm with you
Whenever you tell, my story
For I am all I've done
Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory
Remember me
I am the one voice in the cold wind, that whispers
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky
As long as I still can reach out, and touch you
Then I will never die
Remember, I'll never leave you
If you will only
Remember me
Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me
In your memory
Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended
I live forever
Remember me
Remember me
Remember, me".
The song, though not as refined as Elvish music, resonated deeply, speaking of mortality and the yearning to be remembered beyond the passage of time.
As Faramir left the stage, the hall remained in reverent silence. It wasn't until he approached the table that he noticed the unshed tears in the eyes of some of the elves.
"Sorry," he muttered, feeling a pang of self-doubt. "It must have been horrible for you all."
Aredhel wiped away a tear and replied softly, "On the contrary... we thought the song was beautiful and touching."
As he sat down, Finduilas took his hand, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered before rising to take the stage herself, surprising the audience with her decision to sing a song that mirrored her feelings in that moment.
Finduilas' voice filled the hall with its haunting beauty, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that seemed to touch the very soul of those listening. As she sang, her gaze remained fixed on Faramir, her words carrying a weight of understanding and compassion.
"Tonight it's very clear, as you're standing here,
there's so many things I want to say
I was destined to chase your demons away
And when you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
And when you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
Let all the hurt inside of you die,
Mm, hmm
If I could melt your heart
Mm, hmm
We'd never be apart
Mm, hmm
Give yourself to me
Mm, hmm
I'm spellbound 'til the end
Oh loneliness, oh loneliness To search to the end of time
Time had a way Of making me see that Eternity Has taken its toll on me
Now I feel the emptiness and I'm caught between time and eternity
If I lose you My heart will be broken
Mm, hmm
Mm, hmm
If I could melt your heart
Mm, hmm
We'd never be apart Mm, hmm Give yourself to me
Mm, hmm
I'm spellbound 'til the end
It breaks my heart to see you crying.
I don't want to lose you
I'm spellbound 'til the end"
As she finished her song, Finduilas returned to her seat, a subtle warmth lingered in her smile as she glanced at Faramir, feeling a growing fondness for him that she couldn't quite explain. Luthien, who had been listening intently, noticed the softness in Finduilas' eyes and the way her gaze lingered on Faramir. She couldn't help but smile knowingly, recognizing the signs of blossoming affection.
Meanwhile, Fili, Kili, Pippin, and Merry, caught up in the joyous atmosphere of the event, had almost forgotten their earlier agreement to sing. However, Finduilas and Luthien quickly reminded them of their promise, exchanging amused glances as they gently nudged the hobbits and dwarves to uphold their end of the bargain.
With good-natured laughter, the group of friends prepared to take the stage once more, their spirits buoyed by the festive ambiance of the hall. As they gathered together, Fili, Kili, Pippin, and Merry exchanged mischievous grins, ready to entertain the crowd with their rendition of a lively tune.
As Fili, Kili, Pippin, and Merry launched into their lively rendition of "The Green Dragon," the tune's simplistic nature stood in stark contrast to the refined melodies of elvish music. While elvish songs often exuded elegance and grace, this hobbit ballad reflected the earthy, down-to-earth nature of the Shire and its inhabitants.
The lively melody and cheerful lyrics captured the essence of hobbit life, celebrating the joy found in simple pleasures and the warmth of community. As the hobbits sang of the Green Dragon inn and its frothy ale, the hall was filled with laughter and merriment, painting a vivid picture of the hobbits' love for good company and hearty cheer.
For the elves and Nienna, who were accustomed to the ethereal beauty of elvish music, the performance offered a glimpse into the unique culture and spirit of the hobbits. They marveled at the contrast between the refined elegance of elvish melodies and the lively, rustic charm of the hobbit song, recognizing the richness and diversity of life in Middle-earth.
Amidst the jubilant atmosphere, the elves and Nienna found themselves swept up in the infectious energy of the hobbits' performance. They clapped along to the rhythm, their hearts lifted by the sense of camaraderie and joy that permeated the hall.
In that moment, amidst the laughter and song, they understood that beauty could be found not only in the grandeur of elvish music but also in the simple pleasures of hobbit life. And as they watched the hobbits revel in their music and fellowship, a deep longing stirred within them—a desire to experience the warmth and hospitality of the Shire firsthand, to walk beneath its green hills and share in the merriment of its inhabitants.
After the musical competition ended, the score was tied. The Teleri excelled at singing and poetry, while the Noldor won most of the sports events. The ultimate winner, as in previous years, would be decided the following day in a paintball "battle" between the students of the high schools from both towns.
Traditionally, the mayors of both towns would offer words of encouragement to the participating students. However, this year, the speech was to be delivered by members of the court.
As both teams gathered at the center of the hall, Celegorn rose and approached the Noldorin team, delivering a grandiose speech to bolster their spirits. Luthien, observing from the sidelines, couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Does your cousin believe all the nonsense he's spouting?" she whispered to Aredhel.
Aredhel chuckled. "Who knows? He certainly seems to."
When none of the Telerin court members rose to address their own team, Luthien sighed and turned to them. "Isn't anyone going to offer some words of encouragement?" she asked, her tone tinged with exasperation.
"They just need a little boost," she insisted, urging her uncle's court members to act.
"I'll do it," came an unexpected voice.
All eyes turned to Faramir, curious to see how the mortal would inspire the young Teleri. It was an unconventional choice, but the occasion called for something special.
Standing before the team, Faramir surveyed their faces, noting the mix of fear and uncertainty among them.
"Lord Faramir!" called out Daeron, clutching his paint gun tightly. The others mirrored his nervousness.
"Are you ready for this?" Faramir asked. Daeron nodded hesitantly, but some of the others looked less convinced.
"My lord," one of Daeron's companions spoke up. "How can we win? The Noldor are stronger than us, and they always beat us."
Faramir observed the apprehensive group before him, realizing that they needed more than just tactical advice—they needed to believe in themselves.
"I once led a group of knights against a stronger force," he began, his voice resonating with authority. "It seemed impossible to win, but we prevailed."
He could see the doubt in their eyes, but he was determined to instill confidence in them.
"I know you can beat the Noldor," he declared, his gaze unwavering.
A girl raised her hand tentatively. "My lord… what is a knight?"
As Faramir explained the concept of knighthood, the girl's curiosity piqued.
"But those men were knights… we have no knights here," she pointed out.
"Truly?" Faramir looked around at the young elves, then turned to Daeron. "Do you all want to be as brave as knights?"
The young elves nodded eagerly.
"Kneel!" commanded Faramir. "If you want to be knights, kneel! On your knees, all of you!"
As the children knelt, Faramir's words filled them with a newfound sense of purpose and determination.
"Be without fear in the face of your enemies," he began, his voice ringing with conviction. "Be brave and upright that Eru may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. That is your oath."
With a swift motion, he delivered a light slap to Daeron's cheek. "And that's so you remember it," he added, grasping the boy's shoulders firmly.
Rising to his feet, Faramir addressed the group once more. "Rise, knights!" he proclaimed. "Rise, knights!"
As the children stood, their faces radiated with newfound courage and determination. Even the spectators were moved by Faramir's words, sensing the transformation taking place before them.
"Now repeat after me," Faramir instructed. "A knight is sworn to valor, his heart knows only virtue, his blade defends the helpless, his might upholds the weak, his word speaks only truth, his wrath undoes the wicked."
With each word, the children echoed his oath, their voices strong and resolute.
"Now you are all brothers and sisters sworn by an oath," Faramir declared, raising his sword high.
As Faramir returned to his seat, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the attention he had garnered. Yet, as Aredhel praised his efforts and Finduilas kissed his cheek, he couldn't suppress a smile.
"My brave knight," Finduilas murmured, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "I trust you will tell me more of your adventures."
As laughter filled the air, Faramir's heart swelled with gratitude for the newfound friendships he had forged. In that moment,
"He knew that his journey had brought him peace," Faramir reflected silently amidst the laughter and camaraderie.