Chapter 27
A/N. See footnotes for translations.
Iri, Princess of Erebor, pulled her hood over her bright yellow hair and squared her shoulders, hoping the plain riding leathers helped her look like nothing more than another member of the King's company. Her grey pony's ears flicked anxiously, and she reached forward to stroke its neck. "Ho, Silvermoon. Ho…," she murmured.
Beside them, her companion Zel whispered to one of the commanders—her hood also pulled up. The effect was quite good. Iri could almost believe Zel was just another lad among all the other lads.
And somewhere behind her she could hear Councillor Gloin growling in a low voice. "I have disliked this confounded forest since the day I first heard of it…"
She ignored him. Instead, she peered closer at the treeline of the Greenwood (or Mirkwood as it had been called in the years before the fall of Sauron.) Indeed, her senses were on edge. Were there still giant spiders in that forest? She knew her brother had seen them once as a cadet…away east and south of here. But were they known to be here along the northernmost border?
Ravens flew swift overhead, but the little flock that accompanied the King did not look agitated or angry…yet they were more active than usual.
She turned her head inside the hood, hoping to hear them better and understand their calls.
Stranger. One. A few moments later: Not stranger.
Then: Elf. Alone.
"Ravens report a single Elf," she interepreted to Zel and the guards around her.
She heard Gloin stop his grumble about the forest and after a moment changed to a new complaint. "I can right well guess which confounded elf would show up here and…"
Iri didn't hear the end of old Gloin's complaint. Instead, she heard her father's command, "Stand down!"
She let her hood fall back and looked at the dwarves around her father for her cousin Gimli. Indeed, Gimli was laughing and gesturing to someone who approached through the undergrowth, tall and silver haired, with a smile and a hand-on-heart bow to both Erebor's King and another member of the renowned Fellowship.
Gimli's next words were clear and full of gruff good humor. "If ye want to ride with the King's Company, you'll have to ask his permission for yourself."
Iri glanced at Zel, who also pushed her hood back to show her gleaming auburn hair.
"Here's your chance," Zel said with a wink as she urged her pony forward. "To see what the elves know of the music of the spheres, as they call it."
Iri urged Silvermoon to follow, wondering if elves could indeed hear music from the stars…
While Iri spent that evening considering what Legolas the elf might teach her about the moon and stars, her brother Gunnar was considering what he could learn from a different elf. Or two elves, actually.
It was full dark when Gunnar, Prince of Erebor on assignment with the Dunedain, returned to his small tent near the shores of Annuminas. He had promised to meet Elladan and Elrohir in Halden's makeshift ready room at the tenth bell, which would be soon.
In the light of flickering campfires, he found his tent and ducked inside. He grabbed his pack, plunging one hand into the depths and rummaged a moment before pulling out a curved bit of metal: an ear cuff etched with his Prince's sigil in pure Moria gold in fact. Old gold.
Quickly, he pushed the hair back from the right side of his head and slid the cuff along the helix of the ear until it sat snugly halfway between the top and lobe. It felt good to return it to its place, even if he intended to stow it his pack again in the morning. Then he patted his pockets, reassuring himself that one of them still contained the small, flat, rune-marked stone the size of a large coin.
He pulled it out, feeling the simple marks carved deep in the surface. One rune for "F" and a triangle. He turned it in his hand. Just a simple lodestone spelled to point in the direction of north. But ancient. Dwarf made. Like and yet unlike the stone of Nogrod… His mind filled with the image of the jagged tooth-like mountain peak that he used to see every day from stonespellers' kadrel. Of course, no one called it Nogrod any longer; it was called Wardspire…themassive piece of rock which held a master's impenetrable spell of protection for all of Ered Luin.
This little stone was like that…yet unlike that.
"Time to find out," he said aloud. And now he knew just the lads to help do it. And a bit of gold would tell him—draw out anything else the stone might know. And not just any bit of gold. For this spell, he would need the strength of the Moria gold tied to his very name.
Lodestone in hand, he secured his tent and departed, striding past the campfires with purpose.
The way to Halden's ready room followed an ancient avenue overhung with old willows. Three Dunedain guards raised swords when he approached the end, though he knew full well that he would not have been permitted to get this far if the hidden outer guards had not recognized him.
"Your business?" The demand was low-voiced and stern.
Gunnar stopped, bowing his head in respect. "I am called to Halden's meeting." He raised his head and looked their captain in the eye. "Gunnar of Erebor, at your service."
Allowed to pass, he found his Commander and several other Dunedain including Erion, the man who had found the curious object in the hand of a dead goblin. He'd handed the lodestone to Gunnar after the battle at the River Lune. Gunnar recalled that battle day clearly–including the moment when he'd stood beside Erion and told Halden I think this lodestone might have something more to say…
The Ready Room itself occupied the remnant of an old granite structure: two walls forming a somewhat broken corner and a fairly-level expanse of stone floor. An irregular tent-roof in the manner of the Dunedain provided shelter and hid the light of a single small brazier. Erion stood near the fire, lighting a pipe and puffing it before turning toward him.
"Gunnar," Halden murmured, smiling at him as he approached.
Gunz replied with a simple hand-on-heart gesture.
"You have brought it?" Erion asked in a low voice, lowering his long-stemmed pipe.
"Yes."
But before Gunz could show them the lodestone, Erion and the other Dunedain alerted—turning as one to the far edge of the stone floor to see the tall elf brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, joining the group.
"Suilánte," said Elrohir, greeting the Dunedain in a relaxed and gentle tone. Elladan, just behind him, slowly inclined his head and smiled.
Gunnar grinned. As always, the Sons of Elrond took the unconventional approach, avoiding the guarded entry that Gunnar had used.
The Dunedain looked instantly relieved and abashed. "Elves," someone muttered.
"Good," Halden said, ignoring the comment. "We're all here. Welcome." He gestured toward the brazier. "We have a bit of light, and if we are ready, I would like to ask Master Gunnar to proceed with our experiment."
Gunnar nodded. Men, he was coming to understand, were often eager to get to the point.
"May we see the artifact?" Elladan asked.
Halden held out his hand toward at Gunz.
Gunnar pulled the triangular lodestone from his pocket and flipped it toward the tall elf.
Elladan's eyebrows rose in slight surprise, but his reflex to catch the stone was quick. Gunnar smiled, always enjoying a chance to test an elf. He also wondered if those famous elven senses would identify the stone's usefulness.
Elladan turned it over in his hand, considering it. "It is a compass," Elladan confirmed, as turned it over and read the rune that marked North. Then he whispered something in elvish and held the stone in the flat of this open hand.
Everyone saw that it rotated of its own accord and stopped with the more prominent point toward the lake.
"North," Elrohir said.
But Gunnar watched Elladan. Could the elf also sense that there was something more?
Elladan frowned, then passed his other hand over the stone as if clearing smoke from an ember. And then a subtle glow came from the stone…something luminous that outlined the rune for North…and Elladan suddenly looked up to meet Gunnar's gaze.
"The dwarf is correct. There is something more here.
Of course I'm correct, Gunnar grumbled to himself. But he said nothing.
Halden cleared his throat and nodded. "Are we ready…" He motioned for Erion and the other Dunedain to step back. "To see what else this stone has to say?"
Gunnar and Elladan nodded.
"We are ready," Elrohir answered.
.
.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! Drop me a note and say hi-and I'm definitely on track to finish this story by the end of 2023 (fingers crossed!). Some exciting and fun times (and a bit of danger) ahead as everyone travels to Annuminas and Aragorn makes his visit, an event mentioned in LOTR Appendix B in the section "Later events concerning the members of the Fellowship of the Ring," see the entry for 1436. Tolkien list Lake Evendim (the Hobbit name) but of course the ancient city on the shore is Annuminas. Hope you are doing well, and if you're a new reader, Welcome! Waving Hi to friends who've been reading along...I appreciate that you're reading!
Khuzdul translation: kadrel = a monastic-like academy for deep instruction in the most ancient dwarven skills and secrets (a kind of dwarven wizardry)
Elvish translation: Suilánte = Greetings
