Chapter II: The Rising of the Everstar (Pt. III)
“Days had passed since Nenduîl has spoken of Êlúriel and I had begun to put it out of my mind. The world had become unnaturally quiet—it was nearly too peaceful. My thoughts again turned to Legolas far away from home. I wondered if he was safe—away from all the dangers the world knew would come. Darkness had risen from Dol Guldur once more—far darker than before biding its time to strike.
Sildôr, Findôl, Aramír and Aramoth commanded Marchwardens to guard all corners of the kingdom from all directions. Findôl and Sildôr, returned to council with Târuil, son of Findôl to join as a younger generation of elves had replaced the elder guard. I kept all that I had known all my life close to me. Perhaps in fear of the unknown or because of what I knew, it brought some familiarity where I thought it lost to me.
I stood in my throne room alone looking over several maps of the Rhovanion, wondering when or where evil may come again when Findôl came to me with his brother and son. Târuil had grown into a striking elf, with long golden red hair deep blue eyes.
“What word do you bring to me from the borders,” I said.
“Nothing,” Findôl said. “All is quiet. Save for a few creatures wandering about.”
“In the east it always quiet,” Sildôr answered. “Not since the Battle of Dale have your guard had to worry. The western borders are a different matter altogether.”
“What is the matter,” I asked. “Have you heard from Beorn?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Târuil said softly. Not at all. But there were rumors passing of rumblings from the Misty Mountains coming forth from the direction of Khazâd-dûm.”
“What sort of rumblings,” I asked curiously. “Why would there be rumblings?”
“I could not say for sure,” he said. “But Randúmîr says that something lives there. As it was told to him by Radagast.”
“From Radagast,” I asked. “How fortunate we are to have Radagast hear something more than the twittering of birds. Enlighten me, please.”
“He suspects there may be any number of horrible creatures dwelling there,” Fëaluin said walking toward us with Eldôr and Elranduil. “I suspect orcs or trolls or something. But from what I gather, the quaking is far too great for even a horde of them.”
“It might be a Valarauko,” Eldôr said calmly. “Left behind after the Great Battle. They still linger, though not in great number. Radagast would know quite well if that what rumbles through the darkness. They were once the same.”
“You have to wonder if that led Thráin to Erebor,” Elranduil said. “Perhaps it is why the others were never seen again.”
“Balin,” Fëaluin said, peering at one of the maps. “Yes, I recall several dwarves passing this way not long after King Dáin had resettled Erebor. He was from the House of Durin, I believe. Cousin to Thorin Oakenshield. I am quite sure the did not fare well at all if such things reside within the mountains.”
“Whatever is there does not make Dol Guldur look any less frightening,” I said. “Though what remains from what left returned to Mordor.”
“Not every evil comes from Mordor,” Fëaluin said looking solemn. “Something makes waste of Angrenost and has for some time.”
“Curunír,” Eldôr whispered. “Of all to follow Gorthaur under the spell of Morgoth. This is a shadow not to be reckoned with nor an evil to underestimate.”
“How far below the earth can we dwell,” I asked. “We can go no further to save ourselves. We will have to fight as everyone in Arda. There is no haven left to hide.”
“We are safe for now,” Fëaluin said. “This is the quiet before the storm and we should be glad for it as war will find us soon enough.”
“I wish to send Ardúin away, but she refused to leave me,” Elranduil said.
“She is stubborn,” Aradin said walking over with Elmîr, Nînuir, Eldúir and Sildúr. “Just like her mother.”
“And her sister,” Fëaluin said smiling.
“Mother is like her sisters,” Târuil laughed. “But perhaps they can be persuaded.
“I do not think that is possible,” I said. “They have fallen in love, I am afraid.”
“Of course,” Elranduil said. “There is not a lady in the court that does not love Nenduîl and Tárimë. Even I find them somewhat tolerable.”
Eldôr poked Elranduil in the arm and glared at him.
“We must protect all of our children now,” I said. “I only my household to protect as Legolas is gone to save us all. Where is Tarthôn?”
“Here, Ada,” I heard him say walking toward me with Orísil, Ardôr and Aruilos. “I apologize for being absent.”
“It is fine,” I said. “So long as you are safe.”
“Not all of us,” Ardôr said. “One has fallen.”
“Aruilos,” Fëaluin asked in fear. “Is it your father?”
“No,” he answered. “He comes along with your sons.”
No sooner had he spoke did Nimlos come inside with Elenadar and Elenatar caring badly wounded Randúmîr. Behind them were Sîrandír and Sîrandor, the twin sons of Elenadar. Both had the long brown hair and silver blue eyes.
“Call for Arnîn,” Nimlos said.
“Will he survive,” Elmîr asked. “My niece will fall into despair if he were to die.”
“He will live,” Nimlos said. “But he may have lost some of his Marchwardens.”
“What happened,” I asked as Arnîn came running to her husband with Linurial and Nimlúin.
“They were attacked,” Sîrandír answered.
“No,” Sîrandor quickly answered. “Easterlings. They were not many, but they were formidable.”
“Were you there,” I asked.
“Yes,” Sîrandír answered. “They were moving eastward from the direction of Dol Guldur. Why they were this far North, I do not know.”
“Call for my sons,” Elenatar said to Sîrandor. “I do not want them out there any longer.”
“Yes, Uncle,” he said and made his way out of the main gate.
“Take Randúmîr to his chambers,” Fëaluin said. “No need to have the court to see.”
Through the main gates came Aramír and Aramoth with Sîrandor followed by Sûlrandír and his twin brother, Sílrandor, the sons of Elenatar. Sîrandír ran to meet them. It was hard to tell between the two—even more so whenever they were with their twin cousins—their long golden brown hair and eyes as the color of mists of dusk their only discernible feature.
“It is over,” Aramoth said. “They have gone from our borders.”
“We did not lose anyone, Thranduil,” Aramír said. “But they are wounded badly. The rest are with Tatháron. If you will excuse me, I must see about daughter’s husband.”
I nodded as he and his brother made their way in the direction they carried Randúmîr. Nimlos stayed to speak with Aruilos.
“How long they will stay away,” Sûlrandír asked. “You think they will return, brother?”
“No,” Sílrandor answered. “They have Dale in their sights. But there are plenty of orcs.”
“Were you harmed,” Sîrandír asked. “You seem well.”
“As we are, brother,” Sîrandor said. “You look unharmed, Sûlrandír.”
“I am fine, Sîrandor,” he answered. Though Sílrandor had a rough time of it, did you not, brother?”
“I did not, Sûlrandír,” he scoffed. “That was you and Sîrandír having a rough time of it."
“Please,” Fëaluin said to them. “Do not stand so close to one another. You know I cannot tell any of you apart.”
The four cousins stepped away from each other slowly.
“Sorry, Grandfather,” they said together.
“You are to blame, Fëaluin” I whispered. “You had to have twin sons that had twin sons.”
He glared at me and muttered something under his breath. I knew war was coming again and evil would rise again, but in that moment I found myself trying desperately not to laugh.”--Excerpt from TKWR:BIII To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.MIller 8-23-16
Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.
