Setting Sails for Valinor RPG

[Novnarwen]

It was mid day, but the company felt for a short rest. However, they were only about three days ride from Tharbad. Still, they had come quite far, considering what Tanroth had imagined on beforehand. With this pace, they were nearly halfway to Michel Delving, and that was good news!

"We'll take a rest now," Tanroth announced, when eyeing a nice spot for them to have a small camp. It was only mid-day, but he felt that after this great effort the elves had made to get this far, they practically deserved it. Still, some of the elves thought it better to ride on, being eager to reach Michel Delving as soon as possible. Tanroth however, felt that their pace the last few days had brought them far and well on the road. He didn't mind if they took a brake now, and he guessed some of the others agreed with him as well.

Some sighed as Firiel announced that the company should take a break. But still, everyone seemed to be in a great mood as soon as they had jumped down from the horsbacks, stretching their legs.

"Look!" Arilewen cried, jumping backwards.

There, on the ground, faint horse prints could be spotted. The company stood stiff, having their mouths wide open. Three of the elves bent down to have a better look at the prints, which was evidence that someone or something was close. Tanroth ran his fingers in the soft sand. "Two or three days old," he said, looking with great eyes at his companions. The others nodded in agreement. Two or three days, that was for sure.

They followed the prints for about ten paces, at last able to state that there were at least two riders if not more.

"Riders, here? Now?" Dunaire said through clenched teeth. Tanorth heard someone mutter silently: "Obviously..."

For a moment no one said anything. Tanroth wondered however whom these riders were. Enemies? Enemies, servants of Sauron? He shivered as he thought about the feared Lord, who now threatened to take over everything that was good in this world.

"What now then?" Rostion asked, obviously pondering about something.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:05 AM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

It was two riders who had made the camp. The tracks of two horses and two people were prominent in the soft dirt about the small fire ring. The signs were not fresh her companions and she had concluded that whoever had picked up the two horses - they were at least two days ahead of Tanroth’s group.

Arilewen and Solondil were all for stopping, wanting to make camp themselves. They were nearly half-way to Michel Delving and the horses were flagging at the length of the journey they had made that day through the low, rolling hills of the western Shire. Erkaliel spoke up on the side of pushing on a little further. It was still light out, and even if they slackened their pace to accommodate the horses, it would still bring them all the nearer the road that would lead them west to the Havens.

While the decision to stay or go was being discussed, Erkaliel thought back on the ride through the southern part of this section of the Shire. Several of the Little Folk had been moving their small herds of goats to greener pasturing as they passed, and they raised their heads curiously and then in wonder as the Elven company passed. Erkaliel had waved at one of the young lads who stood with the older Hobbit she took to be his father. The little one had ventured a small wave as she passed, and she had grinned back at him and waved also. ‘I should have come here before these last days,’ she admonished herself. ‘They are a friendly folk, if I have the right of it from these two. No Shadow has passed over them . . . yet.’ She looked to the West, making a small plea that these good folk would be spared the horrors that would come if Sauron and his minions prevailed

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:45 PM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"What now then?" Rostion asked, obviously pondering about something.

Only Arilewen and Solondil were unpacking. The rest were in such a state of terror. A camp just ahead of them? he thought. Did He know of our departure? Was He following us all the time? Thoughts of dread and terror chased one another, as he looked here and there, surveying the ground. Finally, his face became calm, as if a load was taken off his shoulders. He rose and approached Tanroth, saying;

"This are not orcs. I can be sure. Camp's too tidy...no trees felled, not even a blade of grass hacked. But of course, that doesn't mean they are not enemies...I cannot be sure in this lands."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:55 AM December 12, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"These are not orcs. I can be sure. The camp is too tidy...no trees felled, not even a blade of grass hacked. But of course, that doesn't mean they are not enemies...I cannot be sure in this lands," Tanorth stated after giving serious thought to the whole situation. The others muttered in agreement.

"Let's stay the night then," Solondil proposed. At first Tanroth doubted, but as he looked up at the sky, the sun was already starting its way downwards; it would be dark in a few hours. He waved his hand, making them sit down. "We'll go no further today. But at the break of dawn we will ride with great speed. Let's make a little camp," he announced, muttering. For a moment the others looked at him with surprise. "No further today?" Tanroth heard one whisper. He made no grimace.

Later that evening, they had quite a merry conversation. Everyone seemed suddenly so pleased about Tanroth's decision. Tanroth himself hadn't regretted his earlier statement. Now the company would be well rested, and maybe they would reach Michel Delving soon. With this thought he went to sleep, and didn't wake up until morning, break of dawn.

******

Three days had gone by since they had found the abandoned camp. Faint tracks from, what looked like, the same horses could still be spotted. Tanroth shivered by this; where would they lead? Michel Delving? Only now, the tracks were about 1 and a half day old. The company had made greater pace the last days, and the two riders were slowing down.

"Michel Delving," Tanroth announced, pointing. The nine companions had reached the largest village in and around the White Downs, West-Farthing in the Shire.

"Strange inhabitants live here," Tanroth heard one of them say. They all broke into laughter. "I've heard that they call themselves "Hobbits"," one of them answered merrily. Tanroth nodded.

The company had followed the Great East Road all the way from Tharbad, and now the road ran through the village. Tanroth and Rostion rode in the front as they approached the village. Small figures, men greeted them, but not with pleasure. Sceptic looking, (who can blame them) and insecurity were two things which spread among them, and many gathered around the outlanders. But as Tanorth and the others made their way through the crowd and took no heed to the small people, (only Erkaliel seemed to really enjoy this,) the hobbits went in all directions taking no heed to these elves either. Tanroth chuckled, looking at Rostion and Imthôlion who rode at Tanroth's side. "Have you seen any of these strange being before?" he asked, his eyes glittering in the moonlight.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:01 PM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and his son, Sitinion

"Haflings!" Sitinion had exclaimed when first seeing the Haflings. Sirlail had grown tired of his son's excitement. "They are after all mortal," Siralil had pointed out. "Nothing to be so excited about," he had continued. A large crowd had gathered around them, when arriving, but Siralil had waved them off. "Nothing to see here," he had yelled. The Hafling had run away, some even screamed.

They found the local Inn; a small building with a barn like dark roof. The small doors were obvious signs that the haflings were small people.

Siralil and his son made their way to the stable, going afterwards to order rooms for the night. They bent down as a woman came out the door and looked at them with eyes wide open. She had never seen so big people before. Siralil made his way through, growing annoyed by the behaviour of the little people.

"Two rooms for one night," Siralil demanded. The Innkeeper snorted, and looked up and into the elf's eyes. Siralil bent down, when ordering some food. "Your name?" he asked roughly. Siralil replied. "Here," The Hafling said, giving Siralil and Sitinion the keys. "Food will be served in ten minutes," the Hafling continued, eyeing the elves with care.

All over the Inn, people; mostly staff had taken a pause in their doings to watch these weird strangers. After all, Haflings weren't used to such company. "There's something with that man," Sitinion said at last, eyeing a man who went out the door watching the elves for a while.

"Don't worry son. He is too little to cause us big trouble," Siralil said and laughed.

The pair of them settled down, and ate their food. People were looking suspiciously at them, but they didn't bother to do anything about it. When they had finished, they separated and went to bed.

They rode on as soon as the morning arrived.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:19 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel’s horse was tired by the time they reached Michel Delving. Tanroth had pushed the group these last three days, and while the Elves showed no signs of fatigue, their mounts were flagging. As they neared the outskirts of Michel Delving, word spread among the local inhabitants that a party of the Fair Folk was passing through the Shire. Many of the Little Folk had come into the main section of town, or had gathered in the hedgerows along the road to see the Elves.

Others of the group took little notice of the Periannath, recalling to Erkaliel something she had once heard said – that sheep may look different to other sheep or even to their shepherd, but that mortals have not been the study of Elvenkind. ‘No wonder they call us stiff-necked and aloof,’ she murmured to herself. ‘I wonder how long it will be before their memory of us fades and we become nothing more than pleasant stories told to children at bedtime.

Bracken nickered and shook her head as if agreeing with her rider’s thoughts. The two of them fell to the back of the line, letting the main body of the group go on ahead to look for a place to camp, there being no sign of an Inn in the town. Erkaliel watched as the backsides of the horses grew smaller in the distance. She wished to be alone with her thoughts, and the chattering of the rest of the group had already stretched her patience thin over the past few days.

It was a fair night – the sky black as a crow’s wing on whose feathers glittered strands of fiery jewels. The stars in their familiar patterns above her brought her comfort and she wondered if the same patterns held in the Western Lands. She had just picked out Wilwarin, the Butterfly, when she heard some exclamation to her right and the sound of someone hushing the speaker. Erkaliel brought Bracken to a halt and dismounted. There was a rustling of leaves and a few hushed words then thick silence.

‘What’s this?’ she chuckled pulling back a low lying branch from a shrub at the side of the road. There, in the ditch, near the roots, huddled two small Hobbits, tinier than most – children, she supposed, a little boy and girl, by their clothing.

The little girl, the bolder of the two stood up, blinking in the starlight. Unsure of the Elf’s intention, she stood in front of her brother, as if to protect him. He pushed past her, seeing the smile on Erkaliel’s face and smiled back. Names were exchanged, and the children grew bolder as the Elf stood still, and did not seem menacing as their parents said she might be. They fingered her tunic, asking why she wore something so common, when they had heard that Elves dressed always in finery and jewels. Erkaliel laughed, saying that even Elves must take care of the business of their ordinary lives and that fine clothes would not do for such mundane tasks. Where have you come from and where do you go, they asked her, and she answered in kind. Their eyes grew wide at the thought of sailing on a great ship over the bent seas, and the girl lamented the fact that all the Elves would soon be gone.

‘Not all of us will leave,’ said Erkaliel. ‘There are many who love this world and will stay. Though, in time they will fade as the world grows beyond them and memory of them fades.’ She had crouched down to be on a level with them, and reached out to touch their soft cheeks. This would be their world now, and the world of Men, if Sauron did not prevail. From her waistband she drew two little knives, wrought fair in Elven design, with a small green jewel each set in the pommel. ‘Remember us,’ she told the two, who accepted them wide-eyed. ‘Tell your children of us.’ She helped them tuck them into the waistbands of their breeches and their skirt. ‘They will also serve you should the foul forces of the Shadow come into the fair Shire.’

‘We have nothing to give you back!’ cried the little girl. Erkaliel laughed, a bright silvered sound against the dark night. ‘You have given me your friendship, and that is enough,’ she said. ‘But if you will, my companions and I need a place to camp this night – can you tell me of one nearby?’

There was a fair sized glade just to the west of the town, on the north side of the road, they told her. The trees would shield them from the wind, and there was a small creek that ran on the east side of the clearing. Erkaliel mounted and waved good-bye to them, their little figures growing smaller as she sped away toward her companions.

As soon as she caught up with the group, she told Tanroth of the glade. ‘Perhaps we can camp there tonight,’ she said. ‘And let the horses take some rest.’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:24 AM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

"Perhaps we can camp there tonight," Erkaliel said as she had 'sneaked' up on Tanroth, Rostion and Imthôlion's side. "And let the horses take some rest," she continued. Tanroth and the others agreed to this. Erkaliel led them to a glade, west of Michel Delving. The glade was fair sized and located on the north side of the road they had been following from Tharbad. The company's members looked questioningly at the elf, who without hesitation led them to the quite wonderful place, where the trees would shield them from the wind.

Firiel and Arilewen prepared a short meal; meanwhile the others helped each other make a suitable and comfortable camp. Imthôlion and Dunaire led the horses to some trees, standing tall and fair just by the camp. They tied them up and made sure there was plenty of green grass they could enjoy, while the company enjoyed a hot meal.

"So, these shirelings are mortal?" Dunaire asked after a while. "Yeah, I believe so," Solondil said, looking at the others with wide eyes, as if he was wondering if someone else had something to add. "That means... that they will die.. Eventually," Dunaire stated, with great wonder in her voice. Solondil gave short nod, assuring that this was correct. Tanroth said nothing; he only smiled now and then to make sure he didn't look too tired or hesitant about this whole affair.

The two riders and their errand was still eating him up inside. But he wouldn't dare bother his fellow elves with questions regarding the mysterious riders now. It was far too late and thoughts which only brought doubt and suspiciousness wouldn't be any good now.

Tanroth stretched his arms up and into the air. He yawned and turned on his left side to get some sleep. At midnight or so, someone would wake him up so he could stand guard for a few hours. Some of the company's members had insisted on having guards at all time this night. "The Halflings may look innocent, but they seem scary in a way," someone hat muttered, it was meant as a joke though. Still Tanroth felt it was a good idea as well. Some guards couldn't hurt, could it? Not when there were riders about.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:54 PM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel got together with Arilewen as soon as they camped and they prepared a small meal.

"I'm so hungry!" Firiel exclaimed. "It feels like we've been walking for ....a long time.." Firiel sighed. Arilewen gave a short laugh. "I'm hungry as well, dear Firiel. But then I think of the Undying lands, Valinor, and then all my other thoughts and feelings are lost and forgotten. For a while at least..." Arilewen said and smiled.

"True...true," Firiel replied. "It's a comforting and surprisingly happy thought." Firiel continued.

"It is, isn't it?" Arilewen laughed. Firiel nodded and smiled.

There was a short silence while they made the meal that was soon going to ease everyone's stomach ache. "I think it's ready now." Arilewen said.

~*~

While the company ate they talked about the Shirelings. Firiel thought of them as a very interesting race, even though they were mortal.

"So, these shirelings are mortal?" Dunaire asked after a while. "Yeah, I believe so," Solondil said. Firiel shivered: the thought of being mortal, to die...eventually….

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:30 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

A few hours had passed when Solondil woke Tanroth up. With a steady hand, he shook his fellow elf. "It's past mid night," Solondil assured Tanroth. "You should have waken me earlier," Tanroth grunted, while smiling. Solondil made a short laugh and helped Tanroth up. "It's been quiet all night," Solondil reported. Tanroth wondered why Solondil was standing guard alone. The elf answered that he was fine with it. "Besides, what can possibly happen?" he asked and laughed again. Tanroth nodded, and made his was towards some trees, whishing Solondil a good night.

The stars shone like silver stones in the black night. Tanroth shivered as he thought about that this night was one of his last in Middle-earth. It wasn't a saddening thought, though. It was quite the opposite. He would finally meet his parents again, and he would be given the grace of the Valar; to spend eternity in Valinor, the Undying Lands.

For a while Tanroth just focused on this thought. It was an encouraging thought, a thought that made everything so easy! So obvious! He was going!

*****

The elf sharpened his ears. The night was growing old, and the sound of a branch braking made Tanroth grab his bow without hesitation. "Hello?" he said, having an odd feeling. The horses neighed and some tried to loosen themselves from the rope that tied them to the high trees. "Calm down," Tanroth said with a comforting voice, as soon as he reached them. From the corner of his eyes he could see movements in the other direction and without warning he spent his bow and turned, "Who are you?" he said loudly. He had raised his voice, and it was now filling the air.

A small figure approached in front of Tanroth. He had blue eyes with curly brown hair. The fat stomach hung out into the air and made the man look huge, even though he wasn't more than a few inches tall. Tanroth drew the conclusion; this was one of these Haflings who lived here.

"What do you want, Hafling?" Tanroth said, biting his lip. This was not a challenging situation; he was an elf with a bow, faster than any Hafling with a stomach like that; he was a Hafling with.... nothing.

"I would ask you the same," the Hafling answered, taking no heed to the spent bow. He went over to where Tanroth was standing and clapped one of the horses. "This one is strong," he said, smiling.

The elf grew surprised about this haflings 'courage'. The Hafling surely had to know better. A few paces away there were eight elves sleeping, and they could wake up any moment. "I'll give you a few seconds to explain yourself, or I'll wake my companions up, and they won't be this patient," Tanroth said impatiently. For some reason he felt as if he was panicking. It was odd really, when he was armed and ready to shoot any moment when the Hafling made one 'wrong' move, and still he was the one who felt threatened.

"There are many of you," the Hafling started after a while. He blinked and continued;" It's kind of disturbing. The inhabitants here are starting to believe something is happening. Something bad." Tanroth pondered about these words for a few seconds before he lowered his bow.

"Many?" Tanroth asked, muttering. The Hafling laughed, and turned his head towards Tanroth's sleeping companions. "Ah," Tanroth said, "But that's just us; nine in total," he continued.

The Hafling didn't laugh more now. A serious look came upon him and made him look like as if had turned angry. "What about the two of you who came to the Inn?" Tanroth laughed, and stood unsympathetically to the Hafling's question. "All I am saying is; you're scaring us. You're strangers. Just keep your mischief out of our village."

"What Inn?" Tanroth asked, still looking completely lost. The Hafling started explaining again. "I know that you know. But I'll give you the whole story if you insist," he said and muttered something about that this was ridiculous.

Tanroth sharpened his ear again and listened. The hafling started telling: "Two days ago," he started. He continued by telling Tanroth about two people, such as Tanroth, had turned up at the local Inn. They were odd looking, "Like you, that is," he said. The two Elves had been leaving in haste the day after, but still, when two strangers such as them had appeared in the village, people had been frightened. "And it doesn't exactly help, when you and your... Companions... show up the next day. What are you up to?" he said, now having a harsh tune in his voice.

Tanroth stood with his mouth wide open. At first he couldn't believe it. It was so unreal.

Two Elves? Two Elves? Two Elves?

The words rang in his Tanroth's ears, making him want to drop dead at the ground and keep his ears shut. "What?" he stammered with great difficulty. The Hafling looked at him with pity. "Their names?" Tanroth managed to press forwards.

The Hafling didn't answer at once. "Hmm, they never told.. I think," he said. Tanroth sat down. "Oh wait!" The Hafling called after a minute. "One was named.... Sira...Siralil? .... Yes, Siralil it was," he continued, having a certain fire in his eyes now.

"Now, get your horses and get out of here," he said at last, waving the Elf off.

The Hafling disappeared into the dark, meanwhile Tanroth sat in the grass; he had figured it all now, he had solved the riddle.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:06 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

The morning came slowly over the elves that were asleep. The sun was slowly moving over the horizon and the sun was shining weakly.

Firiel opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Rostion who was sleeping next to her. Slowly she raised and got to her feet. Her back hurt after she had been lying on a sharp stick. "Oh..." Firiel exclaimed when she picked op the stick. Her eyes turned over to the spot where the elves had lit a fire the previous evening. Tanroth was sitting there, with his head turning down to the ground.

"Tanroth.." Firiel cried. She shouldn't have done that, because it disturbed the other elves that were still asleep. Firiel grinned, and hoed that they would take no heed to her. Unfortunately her inner prayers weren't heard, because both Rostion and Erfalas were already on their feet. Firiel had managed to wake them. She gave a short sigh before her husband reached her.

"What's the matter with Tanroth?" He asked her. " I have no idea. I was going over to him....but I never really..." Firiel said as Rostion interrupted her.

"He looks down," Rostion said and looked at Tanroth over Firiel's shoulders. "Yes, I know. That's the reason I wanted to talk to him." Firiel said and sighed again. "This quest....this quest that The Lady gave to him, is tearing him. I can see it. He isn't the same, Rostion." Firiel confided.

"I can hardly recognize him." Firiel concluded in the end.

"Don't worry dear." Rostion said and clapped her on the shoulder. "let's go over to him," Rostin said finally.

Firil nodded and they went hand in hand over to Tanroth. When he saw them coming he raised his head and put up a weak and tired smile. "Have you been sitting guard all night?" Rostion asked.

Tanroth gave a short nod, "Only the hours after midnight." he said and looked at Firil. "D' you have a good night's sleep?" He asked politely.

"Yeah...It was alright except from the stick that has been torturing me all night." Firiel said and laughed. Tanroth and Rostion laughed as well, even though the atmosphere was tense.

[Novnarwen]

Save for anyone who needs it

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:06 PM December 17, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

The company ate their breakfast, and with the Hafling's words in the back of Tanroth's mind, he urged them all to hurry. "We better get going, if we want to reach that ship," he said. He noticed that Firiel looked at him, just like she had looked at him this morning. She knew him too well. Maybe she knew there was something wrong? Still, he would have to pretend as nothing had happened; even though the news from the Hafling would mean that his chance for getting on the ship was about zero. Siralil was older than Tanroth, which meant that Siriali had more 'right' to go west than him.

Siralil had really made himself unpopular now, Tanroth thought when climbing his horse, now being ready to leave. Whoever was in lead with him would probably get away with it as well. Tanroth sighed, and rode unwillingly ahead.

It was still early when they got out of Michel Delving. A few hobbits here and there had given them sceptic looks, but it didn't seem to bother any of the company's members today. Now they focused on going about 70 miles west and all the way to the Tower Hill, which Tanroth called Emyn Beraid in his own tongue.

Tanroth clapped his horse gently as they came upon the Great East Road again.

"Tanroth, you look worried."

Tanroth turned his head, expecting to see Firiel there, who always was so caring. But to his big surprise it was Arilewen. For a moment Tanroth didn't exactly know what to say. He was worried, but could he tell her that. Tanroth had already decided that he would tell no one of the meeting with the Hafling. But this decision was also bothering him. After all, there were two riders, and if they arrived first at the Havens, would they be going to Valinor then? Would tow of Tanroth's company have to stay behind? Was that fair? Tanroth had no idea, and he had basically not given thought to this either; the new question: who won't be leaving.

"I know what might be bothering you, Tanroth," Arilewen said after a while. She made her horse go a little faster, so that the distance from the two of them to the rest of the company increased with about 5 paces.

"I heard..." she started, now looking serious and relieved.

"Heard what, may I ask?"

"The Hafling. The story about the riders. The story about Siralil," she said, now breathing heavily. With tears in her eyes, Tanroth's heart jumped. She knew?

Arilewen had 'eavesdropped' after being she had been awakened by Tanroth's cry, when he had first seen the Hafling. Therefater, Arilewen had pretended that she was asleep, even though she was wide awake and her ears were wide open as well. "I know that this new situation means... it means," she said after a while. The elf maiden paused before she continued;” that I cannot possibly be going to Valinor, since I am the youngest and I took Siralil's place."

Tanroth opened his mouth to speak, but was hissed at by Arilewen. Erkaliel and Dunaire had been riding up on Arilewen's side, and had now eagerly started a conversation with her. "We cannot tell this to any of the others," Arilewen whispered before turning her attention to her two female friends. Tanroth said nothing.

[Novnarwen]

Sitinion and his father, Siralil by Orofaniel

Four days had gone by, and the two elves were still on their road to the Heavens. Siralil thought about how many miles that still remained and he figured that if they were lucky, they could be at the Grey Havens this very evening. Siralil smiled to himself, he was pleased. No one could now take his and his son's places in the ship. Not even if Tanroth and the Company were alive they wouldn't passably reach it.

"We'll probably reach the havens tonight, son." Siralil said as they road. "What..?" Sitinion asked as he couldn't quite hear the words that had slipped his father's mouth.

"I said, if we're lucky we may reach the Heavens tonigh." Siralil said again and smiled even wider.

"Oh.." Sitinion mumbled. After the past few days this was all he had been thinking about; he had been thinking about how unfair it was for Tanroth and his Company when himself and his father took their places in the ship. He could see the disappointed face of Tanroth in his mind, and it seemed so real. The picture of Tanroth was tearing him apart from the inside. It was like two strong forces wanted a piece of him; he couldn't turn down his father, because he loved him. And Siralil had always wished them best form his son. At the same time he knew that they were doing something wrong, because Sitinion was certainly not old enough for the ship yet. Every single member of the Company was older than him, or he thought so. Even though he didn’t knew for certain, he knew that he didn't deserve nor had no right for a place in the ship.

If he did, then Tanroth and the Lady would have said so. Sitinion was starting to think that, maybe his father only wanted him with him because he was afraid to be alone. Siralil didn't exactly know what was waiting for him if he went to Valinor, and he could always "count" on his son. Or could he?

***

As the two elves rode the sun slowly went down and disappeared into the west. The wind blew as a swift leaf fall down from the tree in the autumn.

"I guess there are only a few miles left." Siralil said after a short break. They tried to hide all traces as they left the camp. "We should manage to reach The Havens within the hour, if we ride with great speed." Siralil said. Sitinion nodded.

"Let’s ride then." Siralil said impatiently when he saw that his son didn't show any sign of getting up on his horse ready to ride.


****************
Tanroth and company by Novnarwen

Three days had gone and about 70 miles had been laid behind, by the time when the company could at last glimpse Emyn Beraid. The three white towers were high and stood proudly on the hills. Tanroth explained that one of the towers, the tallest he believed held one of those Palantirs or the seeing stone, Elostirion.

"Who set it there?" Solondil asked. Tanroth couldn't answer that, but Imthôlion assured them all that it was Elendil. "In that way he could see Tol Eressa and even the blessed Aman," he added with a huge smile upon his face. Tanroth laughed, "They are sure useful, huh?" he said. The others nodded in agreement.

That night they camped not far away from the towers. "They're beautiful," Tanroth heard someone say. He had to agree. There was something about them, which made them extraordinary and special. It was almost as if they were magical. Tanroth made a grimace. It wouldn't be that bad not leaving Middle-earth then. Valinor had to be beautiful as well, but so was Middle-earth. His time would come, eventually, just not now.

Tanroth glanced over at Arilewen, who had for a couple of days ago revealed her secret about eavesdropping that night. He shook his head. He wondered if she was disappointed. Or perhaps she had still a hope getting on the ship. Why else was she willing to continue this journey, if she was absolutely sure she couldn't go? Tanroth for that matter had no choice. It was his task to follow these elves, and he wouldn't dare fail them, even though it meant that he would have to go all the way back to Lothlórien, alone.


Info thread (Palantiri, BD thread)
*********

Save if needed

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:22 PM December 18, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

The ride to the Emyn Beraid had been one of reflection for Erkaliel. Her mother’s mother had sailed West when Erkaliel was very young. It was a joyful parting when she left with a group of her companions on this very same road that her granddaughter now took. She had kissed them each on the brow, her daughter and Erkaliel and told them once again of the time she had ridden to the Tower Hills and climbed Elostirion, the tallest and most western of the White Towers. The sea had not yet called her, and she looked across the expanse of it toward Eldamar and Valinor. Erkaliel’s mother, Lithiel, had never made the pilgrimage. She had died before she could do so, killed in an ambush. Erkaliel often wondered if Lithiel had chosen to remain in the Undying Lands once her stay in the Halls of Mandos was done.

And now here was Erkaliel camping on the western edge of the Emyn Beraid, and a longing grew in her to look into the Stone of Elendil. With Tanroth’s permission, she rode to Elostirion, urging her mount there at a quick pace. Leaving Bracken to forage in the long grass that grew about the base of the tower, she climbed the long winding stairs within at a run.

At the top of the tower, in the center of the room, was the palantír. On an oaken pedestal it stood, glowing softly in the dark, windowless room. Placing her fingers lightly on the cool orb, she watched the hazy grey images within grow and sharpen. First a shining silvered path filled the globe, sunlight on the sea. Then, white shores with the waves lapping softly up to them. And beyond, a far green country, beautiful as the light quickened on it. Erkaliel’s mind was captured by these sights and her heart was filled with the desire to go to them . . . to be at home . . . and at peace.

She stood long looking into the stone. The night waned outside the tower – the stars, at first bright, grew dim as day approached. With some reluctance, she withdrew her touch from the stone, and made her way slowly down the staircase. Sleep did not come for her that night, or any night after. At night her eyes were filled with starlight, and by day they looked westward, watching as the promise of the Havens drew nearer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:45 AM December 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Sitinion and Siralil

The two elven riders could now see the Grey Havens. It was lying before them, waiting for them. "Son, this is Mithlond. As the elves call it." Siralil said as they came to the outskirts of the Havens.

***

The ship stood ready as they arrived near the harbours. It was a beautiful ship with strong and large white sails. They stood there a while just looking at the wonderful ship that would take tem to the undying lands in a little while.

Around them stood other elves and watched the ship. There were more elves here than Siralil expected. Everywhere he turned his eyes he saw people of the beautiful elven race, all of them wanting to o to the Undying lands before the War started for full. The elves that were left behind were forced to fight along or just leave it to the other races of Middle-Earth. There would be spilled blood either way, Siralil knew that. It was always spilled blood in wars. But this wasn't just a "war", this was a special war, where evil had to be defeated or else.....Siralil sighed, he didn't really want to think about i.

That's why he had decided to take his son and go for the Heaves, so he wouldn't have to fight, or loose the people he loved the most. Siralil didn't usually show his emotions towards others, but by taking his son with him he had shown them in his special way of course.

"What do you say, should we find an Inn and get some food and drink? Maybe some sleep?" Sarlil proposed suddenly.

Sitinion didn't say anything because his father ad already started to walk towards what was called The Swan Inn.

They placed the two fine horses in the stable and went inside. The Inn was filled with merry laughter and conversations. Most of them were elves that were waiting for their ship; the very same ship that Siralil and Sitinion were waiting for.

"What can I do for you dear elves?" The ma behind the desk asked suddenly.

Sirali pushed his son forwards to the desk. "C-Could we have a room please?" Sitinion asked the man behind the desk. His father was standing behind him looking at the Innkeeper.

"Yes...There is only a room at the upper floor available. Is that okay?" The Innkeeper asked politely.

Sitini0on turned towards his father to see f the room that was available would do. Siralil nodded and gave a faint smile to the Innkeeper. "We'll take it." he said and grabbed the key the Innkeeper was now holding in his hand.

"Have a nice evening." The Innkeeper finally said as the elves turned away from the desk heading for the common room. Siralil wanted to grab a bite before he got to bed. His son was following him as a dog.

***

As they entered the common room the light hit their faces. The elves were smiling and drinking from large mugs with ale and beer.

Sirali and Sitinion seated at a table in the middle of the common room. It was the only table that was free. Siralil waved towards one of the servants in the corner. The woman came quickly over to them to take their orders.

"What can I get for you, gentlemen?" She asked and smiled.

"We'll have to mugs with ale and...The food you've got." Siralil said. Sitinion opened his mouth as he was going to say something, but his father stopped him. "That would be all." he continued and smiled to the servant.

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute with ale and food." The servant said and smiled again before she walked away towards the kitchen.

The servant held her promise she was back in a couple of minute with two large mugs with ale and two filled plates with food. The elves started to eat at once without much talking. Their stomachs were soon filled and they were satisfied at last.

While they took some of their last sips with ale, an elf approached them. Siralil recognized him; he had been standing at the harbour looking at the ship while he and Sitinion had looked at it as well.

"Greetings dear elves." He said and seated without really being invited to do so.

"Hello," Siralil nodded sternly. "Hello," Sitinion said and made place for the elf on the bench.

"I saw you two down at the harbour." The elf continued. Sitinion opened his mouth but was yet again interrupted by his father. "My name is Siralil, and this is my son Sitinion." He said.

"Oh, I'm very sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," the elf replied. "I'm Gifor."

"Well, hello Gifor." Siralil said. "Are you going with the ship that is leaving tomorrow?" He asked. "Yes....I am." Gifor answered and sighed. "I have to admit it's a bit sad to leave; Middle-Earth. But I'm sure that the Undying lands will be....splendid." Gifor continued and smiled. Then he gave a short laugh. Sitinion smiled as well, while his father still sat there just looking at Gifor.

"I assume that you two are going as well..." Gifor said and looked at Sitinion then he turned his eyes to Siralil. "Yes, we are indeed." Siralil said and smiled.

Gifor then gave a quick wave to the servant, he wanted a mug if ale he told Siralil and Sitinion. "You want some too..?" he asked them as the servant came over to the table. "No thank you." Sirlil answered before Sitinion could say anything. Siralil took Sitinion by the shoulder dragging him up form the bench he was sitting on. "We should go now." Siralil said shortly.

"A-alright.." Gifor mumbled. "Are you sure you don't want to..." He looked at Sitinion, but he didn't get to finish his sentence before Siralil said no once again and excused the both of them. he almost dragged his son out of the common room, to Sitinion's annoyance. He would rather have a mug of ale then go to sleep now....

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:36 PM December 19, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

Bracken clip - clopped along the road heading west as they descended from the Tower Hills. The horses were in no hurry, having rather enjoyed their brief rest of the previous night. There had been grass aplenty for them in the thick undergrowth beneath the trees, and even a thicket of berry bushes for them to browse on.

The Elves, however, felt the urgency grow in them to reach the harbor, and once they had gathered on the flatlands at the base of the hills, they urged their mounts on at a rapid pace. Seagulls flew in wheeling flocks this far inland, calling the Firstborn to the sea. The horses caught their riders’ eager spirits and did their best to shorten the distance between themselves and the promise of the harbor.

It was early morning when they reached the outskirts of Mithlond. The horses by then were flagging, and the Elves had used up the last of their food and drink. Hungry and thirsty, they stopped one of the townsmen and asked the way to the nearest Inn. ‘It’s The Swan you’ll be looking for, gentle people. Just down the street here,’ he said pointing, ‘and then a right turn at the iron monger’s sign.’ He tipped his hat to them as they thanked him and then rode on.

The wooden sign of the Inn was grayed from exposure to the salty sea air. It creaked as it swung in the brisk morning breeze, the chains from which hung rusted and pitted by the sea’s mist. On it was engraved a graceful swan ship, its sails unfurled, filled by a fair breeze, as it sailed westward out of the harbor. The Elves dismounted, handing the reins to the two stableboys who had rushed up eagerly to be of service.

As they mounted the stairs to the Inn door, Erkaliel heard one of the boys speaking to the other. ‘I wonder if they will all be leaving on the ship.’ The other boy said he supposed they would, why else would they have ridden their horses so hard to get here.’ The first lad grinned at the prospect. ‘The stablemaster will be in a very good mood, then, with nine new horses to keep and sell.’ He rubbed his hands in anticipation. ‘We may even get a little something from his good mood!’

‘Nine horses,’ thought Erkaliel. ‘Now isn’t that interesting? Our hosrses plus the two missing make that number. In wonder if by some chance those other two horses were the ones meant to ours.’

The companions strode into the Common Room, and secured a table for themselves. Erkailiel waved a serving girl over, asking what were the offerings for the morning meal, and what might the Inn have for drink. ‘Well,’ said Miriel, ‘the Cook is in an especially good mood this morning and had fixed a fine spread for breakfast.’ She ticked the menu off on her fingers, then went through the beverages from ale to sweetspice tea. ‘It’s all tasty,’ she assured them. Turning to two figures who sat at a small table at the end of the bar, their heads bent low over their plates, she pointed and smiled at them, saying, ‘At least those two gentlefolk think so.’

Erkaliel’s eyes narrowed as she looked into the shadows at the two figures. Elves, by the looks of them. She stepped a little closer and hailed them, her eyes going wide as she recognized their faces.

‘By the One,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s you . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:50 AM December 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and Sitinion - By Orofaniel

Siralil and Sitinion had had a good night sleep indeed, but they had no idea of what was waiting them down in the common room....

***

The two elves went down the stairways and found their way into the common room there they had been the day before. Gifor the elf that they had met was nowhere to be seen. Sitinion sighed as they seated to order breakfast. "What is it son?" Siralil asked him seeming annoyed over that his son sighed.

"Nothing father." Sitinion answered and sighed again. "It's just....we're leaving Middle-Earth today father, and I'm having second thoughts." Sitinion continued. He, himself was stunned that he had said such a thing to his own father. How could he? After all that Siralil had done for him? His father had been so kind that he had brought him to the Heavens and giving him a free ticket to Valinor, where he would live forever in peace.

"What?!?" Siralil exclaimed while rage was rushing over his face like thunder. "I d-didn't mean...." Sitinion mumbled while he looked at his father.

"I just feel bad for the Company and for Tanroth. What if they aren't dead?" Sitinion continued trying to defend himself and what he'd just said. He knew however that his father would never let him get out of this fully skinned. It was a terrible thing to say to his father, even though this was what Sitinion felt.

"They are dead!" Siralil said and raised his voice. "How come they're not here then?" When the ship is leaving this afternoon?" Siralil continued now almost whispering. "Don't feel bad for something you didn't do, son." Siralil said now, as he was trying to comfort his son. He bent over him clapping him on the shoulder. "It'll be alright son, when we get to the ship you'll see we've made the right choice...It'll be alright." Siralil continued.

But deep down Sitinion knew that it wouldn't, even though Tanroth and the Company never showed up.

*********

Tanroth - By Novnarwen

"By the One," Tanroth heard Erkaliel exclaim. "It’s you . . ."

Tanroth looked up to see Erkaliel leaving her seat, and walking towards the two gentlemen the waiter had referred to. Tanroth got a glanced over at the table as well, and could see a face, which was familiar, Siralil. He excused himself, looking warningly at Arilewen, who had been following Tanroth's eyes, and spotted Siralil as well.

From the moment Tanroth had understood that Siralil had gone to the Havens and take the seat, which originally was his, Tanroth had hoped that the company wouldn't get to meet Siralil and his companion until the ship was leaving. Still, to let the others know would be morally correct. This especially, simce one of Tanroth's companions and him could be squeezed out of the seat they had been dreaming of, from the moemnt they left the woods of Lothlórien.

When Tanroth rised from the table as well, the others seemed to turn in every direction, to have a better look at what was going on. Tanroth reached Erkalile who was now staring at the two elves by the table. "Siralil...?" she said, questioningly. The other elves at Tanroth's table turned in the same direction, and Firiel and Rostin stood up. They had heard Erkaliel, and Tanroth hadn't been able to stop her either. The truth would have to come out now; Tanroth would eventually have to tell them of the meeting with the Hafling.

"Oh dear," Siralil answered. He too, looked a bit surprised, but seemed to deal with this new situation they found themselves in, much better then Erkaliel or the others, for that matter. "Tanroth, you made it," Siralil said, a bit merrier. Tanroth nodded and made grim face, telling Siralil that they had all made it, together. "They deserve this, and you know it," he added.

Now Dunaire, Imthôlion and Solondil had come forwards. And they pushed Tanroth forwards, so they could have a better view of Siralil and his companion, who tanroth discovered was Siralil's son, Sitinion. But insted of looking at Siralil, who had fallen silent, they stared at tanrloth with great eyes. "You don't look very surprised," Firiel said, halfway whispering. Tanroth nodded, and made a grin.

"I am not either," he said. "But that is not the point," he added, hushing at Dunaire as was eagerly arguing with Sitinion, who almost looked frightened by Dunaire's 'river' with words.

"I changed my mind," Siralil said after a while. He was clearly starting to get annoyed by Dunaire and the others, who were after his opinion casting silly arguments out on him, all telling him that he had no right to do this. Tanroth however, knew that Siralil was right. Siralil had the right to go, even though he had changed his mind and gone to the Havens secretly. It was obvious that this was wrong, but there was really nothing anyone could do. Siralil could by right go, if he wanted to.

"I am going," he said, through clenched teeth. By this, Arilewen made her way through the crowd and left the Inn. Dunaire followed her, while the others tried to digest this heavy news.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:47 PM December 20, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post- Firiel and the confrontation.

"I am going," Siralil said sternly, now looking at Tanroth with disgust. He swallowed and turned his head towards his son.

"Siralil?!?" Rostion exclaimed. "Calm down Rostion." Tanroth said and raise his hand.

"What do you think you're doing??" Firiel asked him angrily. Siralil laughed. "Calm down Firiel dear...." He said and smiled. "Don't you dear say that to me!" Firiel exclaimed now seeming even angrier. Her cheeks were going red and her eyes were blank. Her hands were shaking of anger.

"Sitinion, maybe you want to explain all of this." Rostion said suddenly. He had been quiet all the time; no one had even noticed that hew as there. Tanroth nodded. "Yes, Sitinion, since you're father won't tell us, why don't you explain...." Tanroth said and looked at him with stern eyes.

The poor elf sat there, trying to be strong, but deep down he knew that Tanroth was right and that by all means; they had the right to ask such a question. "W-we...My father changed his mind." Sitinion said suddenly, to his father's annoyance.

"No, son." Sirali replied he didn’t smile now. He had this worry expression in his face and his lips were curled. "I have come here to claim the place in the ship I had, but I gave away. I had the right to that place..." Sirlil said now looking at Solondil who also approached the table where the two elves were seated. "Remember..?" Siralil asked Tanroth and smiled evilly.

"I do remember that!" Tanroth said, while his anger was rising. Firiel stood behind him watching his eyes become as blank as her own eyes. "But I also remember that you gave away that seat to Arilewen!" Tanroth said as he hit his hand in the table where Sitinion was sitting. "No need to be quick tempered about this.." Siralil said teasingly. "You claim something that is not yours!" Tanroth continued now bending over Siralil, he looked him in the eyes; "Not yours..," he said again.

"I wonder whom the Lady gave the places too....." Sirali said after a moment, only to tease Tanroth. "Ahh....Now I remember." He continued smiling like the sun does on a warm summer day. ”The Lady gave the seats to this that were the oldest!" Siralil said now angrily, while he rose from his seat. "Didn't she..?" He asked Airilewen whom had just entered the common room again. Arilewen gulped, without saying something.

"Then if so, what is Sitinion doing here?!?" Rostion interrupted. "He is not even close by age to be the eldest. He is at least a thousand years under your age!" Rostion continued now pointing at Sitinion while he looked at Siralil.

Sitinion had to say something, but he didn't know what to say. There were no words for what he felt and what he wanted to say. "I-I'm here because of my father's wish." Sitinion said almost as he was announcing something. He, as well, got up from his chair. Tanroth laughed. "Well, so are we...we are here because this was the lady's wish." He said looking at Sitinion. "So, should we follow your father's wish or the Lady?" Tanroth now asked Sitinion, as teasingly as he could.

Sitinion didn't know what to answer, but e didn't have to, because his father had already dragged Tanroth out of the way so he could stand by his son and defend him.

Firiel took a step forwards. "You, Sitinion, of all people, know what the right thing to do is..." She said. "You know that these seats were not for you, nor your father!" she said turning her eyes over to Siralil. "He gave his seat away. And he cannot come here and claim it back, if not Arilewen is willing to giveit back." Firiel said and looked at Arilwen with sorrowful eyes.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:08 AM December 21, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Tanroth - Novnarwen's post

"He gave his seat away. And he cannot come here and claim it back, if not Arilewen is willing to give it back." Firiel said.

Tanroth followed the conversation carefully. Arilewen stood behind him, breathing heavily. Tanroth couldn’t understand how Sitinion had more right to go to Valinor than Arilewen. For Tanroth however, all hope was lost. He had a mission, to lead the elves safely to the Havens. Now, if someone was going home, and there was obviously someone who was, he would have to lead that person home, right? He shuddered by this thought, but tried to look at the positive side of it; there would be a ship after the War as well.

Arilewen looked as if she was in serious thought. It was after all her decision. Is she was to separate father and son, which Siralil was not hoping for, or go herself. It was obvious that most thought it was out of question that Sitinion would go with this ship. He was far younger than any of the members in the company. Tanroth looked at Arilewen, and said in a low voice:”You better decide quickly. The ship will leave soon.” By this, Siralil seemed to be very surprised. He hadn’t really imagined that any would separate his son and him. Now there was actually a chance for that, which would mean that Sitinion could die in the war while fighting.

**~**

The company made ready to leave the Inn. From the window of the Inn, they could glimpse the white swan ship and the white sails. Soon the Inn was over crowded by the elves that were apparently leaving as well. In the corner or Tanorth’s eye, he coulfd glance Siralil and Sitionion. They too, made their way to the Grey Havense, but not very sure in their case.

“Do you think she will let him follow his father?” Firiel asked, as they walked to the Havens. Tanroth hadn’t told Firiel about the Hafling yet, and he wondered if he ever would. It didn’t seem right yet, would it ever? Is anyone knew, maybe they would feel bad for him that he was the one who got this mission, since he was ‘doomed’ to go back, if anyone else did. Now even, the one who would be going back, wouldn’t do it out of own intention, but out of the fact that this person had no choice

“I met a Hafling,” Tanroth said suddenly, stopping.

Firil looked questioningly at him. Rostion came over, while the others walked straight ahead, following the crowd.

“A Hafling?” she said, wondering where all this was going. Tanroth took a deep breath, looked at Rostion then at Firiel and started telling, about the Hafling and the meeting at the outskirts of Michel Delving. “He told me two elves had passed through Michel Delving just a day earlier. One of them had introduced themselves as Siralil,” he said, finishing with another sentence that made no sense at all.

“I won’t be going with this ship. I must follow the last person home, to Lothlórien,” he said, with great difficulty. Firiel and Rostion had known this for a while. It had been obvious for quite some time now; from the moment they met Siralil and Sitinion at the Inn. No one had said anything about this matter, and Tanroth gussed it was out of pity.

Neither Firiel nor Rostion looked surprised, they only looked at him, saddened that this was the end; the end of their journey and something that was supposed to end so differently. However, Tanroth clapped Rostion and the back and whispered that they would meet again, “Some day,” he said. They started walking down to the Havens, where many elves already had made it to the ship and waited comfortably for it to sail west.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:04 PM December 21, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion was shocked to see Siralil and his son at The Swan. Did Siralil intend to reclaim his place on the ship, thus forcing Tanroth to stay behind? Rage coursed through Imthôlion’s veins, so he left the Inn before he did anything he might later regret. A cool breeze drifted from the west, drawing the elf’s attention to the great expanse of water. Beyond that great expanse was the great continent of Aman. Imthôlion’s heart was torn in two. To the west was a perfect life, but to the east was all he had ever known and loved. Could he really leave his homeland in this time of war, without even trying to fight in the great battle? Deep in his heart, Imthôlion knew he would not be able to rest until he helped fight the Evil. A stay in the Halls of Mandos would be ahead of him of he did not sail now, for he knew he would die in battle. Yet now he was so close to sailing, Imthôlion found that his heart belonged to Middle Earth. Though evil walked her fair lands, Middle Earth was a fair land in which he had been born.

As Imthôlion thought about which way he would go, west or back east, he found that his feet had taken him to the harbour by their own accord. He looked up at the great ship that he had stopped next to. Tanroth would be left behind, for Siralil would have his way, as older elves often do. Imthôlion had never liked Siralil, and now he saw clearly that Siralil was not a just elf, for no just elf would give up their place on a Ship, only to take it back from one who had made such an effort to get his companions to the Havens. Tanroth deserved his place more than any elf Imthôlion knew. Perhaps if it came to it, Imthôlion would give up his place so that Tanroth could sail, for Imthôlion knew that Tanroth wanted to sail more than he. Imthôlion didn’t even think he wanted to sail know. No, he had made his choice. He would stay and fight with the other elves who had remained. He would die valiantly in battle.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

There, on the Western shores of Middle-earth, Rostion stood beside Tanroth. He patted the Elf in the back, who had been their leader on this last journey of theirs, and been with them through all the hardships of the road. It might have been his last journey, too. he thought. But there's nothing I can do. He turned to Tanroth, and said,

"My friend, I am honored to have been on this road with you as my leader. May the Valar, under the One, protect you, and someday may you find the ship to bear you to the Undying Lands. There, I'll be waiting or you." A tear fell on his cheek. I, crying? he thought. So long since I last cried. I'll treasure this one, more than any gem or pearl Arda might have.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:32 AM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire stood behind Rostion as he spoke to Tanroth.

"My friend, I am honored to have been on this road with you as my leader. May the Valar, under the One, protect you, and someday may you find the ship to bear you to the Undying Lands. There, I'll be waiting or you."

As Rostion stepped forward onto the ship, Dunaire turned to Tanroth. "Namarie, mellon nin." Dunaire was, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, trying to think of something to say, then gave up. "Namarie." He turned and walked slowly onto the ship, glancing back only once.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Orofaniel's post

Firiel and the Company stood there together on the harbour. The ship was ready and its white sails were already blowing in the smooth wind. "This is it." Firiel said to the others. "This is we say good bye to Tanroth and the one who follows him back to Lorien." She continued. Her eyes went blank as they had done earlier that day, but this time it was because of the sadness she felt, not the anger. Rostion stood next to her and took her hand. There were now tears that streamed down from Firiels' pale face.

She took her hand and wiped them off, but they continued to come. "I'm sorry." Firiel said and laughed. "I'm just going to miss this earth....and….." We know Solondil said. "So will all of us," he continued.

"Let us not grieve." Tanroth said. "Because we reached our goal, we have succeeded.....We came here as a group of nine elves, but it seems that only seven of us are able to leave, and move on to the next step. I will, as I've said before go back to the Lady in Lorien. I will not decide who the second will be, that is not up to me. All of you have to make a choice, a hard choice indeed, on so little time, but we have no more. " Tanroth said while he had a serious look upon his face.
_____________________________________________

Elentari's post

Imthôlion was lost in his thoughts for some time, until he heard the familiar voices of his companions. Although unaware of the confrontation, he could hear sadness in the voices of his friends. As he approached them, he heard Dunaire say farewell to Tanroth. So it is true, thought Imthôlion. Tanroth will not sail.

"Tanroth, my friend," said Imthôlion after the others had moved away toward the ship. "So you will not be sailing?"

"No," said Tanroth, hiding the emotions that tried to push their way to the surface. "I shall not be sailing on this ship."

"You worked so hard to get us all here. It is not right for you to be left behind, when without you none of us would have made it this far." Imthôlion sighed and turned toward the ship. "I shall remember you, my friend, and shall see you again when your time to sail comes. Farewell." And so Imthôlion turned and left, joining the other Elves aboard the ship.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:46 PM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[piosenniel]

‘This is what comes of such a long time lived in this marred world,’ thought Erkaliel as she had watched the interaction between Siralil, Sitinion, and Tanroth. Reason was of no avail, and a current of anger played round the group. ‘It is said,’ she thought further, ‘that when an Elf dies the fëa will go to the Halls of Mandos. There to better understand Eru’s purpose for them. Perhaps then this anger and wrong-doing will be understood and the Firstborn will be whole again.’

Erkaliel felt herself apart from this. She had no power to make this situation right. And beyond that, since she had climbed Elostirion and looked toward the Undying Lands, her only thoughts had been of that far country across the Bent Seas. In her room, she had left her pack and her weapons, a little note attached to them that someone in need should have them. She shed her traveling clothes – the breeches, vest, tunic, boots and pulled on a green dress, shot with threads of gold – the color of the leaves of Lothlórien on a fair, sunlit day. On her feet were soft green shoes. About her shoulders she drew on the grey, finely woven cloak her aunt had made for her long ago, and clasped it at the throat with a shining six-pointed star of silver and crystal. Eärendil’s star, the hope which hung always in the sky.

~*~

As she made her way to the dock, she pushed the cape’s hood from off her hair, which was now unbound. The sea breezes caught the tendrils about her face and played with them gently as she made her way to the slip where the White Ship lay at anchor. Her companions were gathered on the dock, surrounding Tanroth.

He stood with Rostion, a resolved look on his face. Dunaire stood just behind him; both had just spoken with him. Firiel was there, tears staining her cheeks, though she laughed in spite of them. Imthôlion had just finished speaking with Tanroth, and Erkaliel’s brow furrowed as she watched him turn away from the waiting ship, his steps taking him eastward down the road.

Coming up quietly behind Tanroth, she put her hand on his arm, causing him to turn toward her.

Utúlie’n aurë, Tanroth. Nai hiruvalyë Valinor. Namárië!

One last look at him, who had led their band so well, then her grey eyes turned West, to the White Ship waiting, and her steps carried her on board . . .

_______________________________________

Translation of Elvish:

‘The day has come, Tanroth. May you find Valinor. Farewell!’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:56 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post - Firiel

Firiel stood there and listened to Tanroth's words. She thought of how the Lands of Valinor would be, and then how it would be to return back to Lorien. How the war was upon them, and how much blood that would be spilled. She would have to witness all of this if she decided to return to Lorien. Firiel didn't have much more time to think before one of the companies stepped forwards and announced that she would return to Lorien........

And because of this, Firiel was able to leave Middle-Earth together with her husband and sail to the Undying lands, and live there for ever....

Nova's post - Tanroth

Tanroth wasn't surprised by seeing Arilewen step forwards. She didn't have to say anything either; Siralil would have his way. Tanroth wanted to stop her; she could go west if she wanted, but this was not his decision, it was hers and hers alone.

As the elves made ready and said their last farewells to Tanroth and Arilewen, Tanroth realised that this was kind of the exact thing he had been through before; when his parents had left and sailed west. Firiel and Rostion had been his best friends for as long as he could remember; almost like a family, and now they were leaving too. Tanroth shuddered; this was the end, but not of all things.

The sails looked proudly over the harbour and the blue-green surface of the water. The water was so blank; the ship looked as if it was double ship, both setting sails in just a moment. Firiel and Rostion stood in the crowd at the ship; they hadn't settled yet, and waved to the two elves that stood looking, yearning after the opportunity to leave as well. Firiel cried out a last goodbye, but it was drowned in the voices from the excited elves. Tanroth however, could see it in her face expression that it was a last goodbye. "Good bye," he whispered, and Arilewen added a last farewell as well. She smiled, even though she was staying, she had found peace after all then. There was a war coming, but she looked as if she had faith. Not only in the ring bearer and the quest he lead, but in the elves in Lorien.

"He would have been at better use than I, in this war. But..." Arilewen started as the Elves in the ship feel silent, and the ship was about to leave the harbour. Tanroth waved and smiled, looking at the elf at his side. Tanroth had listened to her, meanwhile reaproaching himself. Why hadn't he figured it? Two horses missing, two riders, same road... Why hadn't he understood it? How many possibilites where there? Surely, any of Sauron's or Saruman's spies would have been more careful. They wouldn't have left a camp not covering all their tracks. He had been dumb and he had been fooled. And for this he would have to pay. Too bad Arilewen had to pay for it as well. If they only had been a bit faster, if they had gone with greater pace...

"You've done greater than you can imagine," he said after a while, knowing all about being separated with his family. Arilewen made a short laugh. "Always this positive?" she asked, the atmosphere being much lighter now. "I have hope, if that's what you mean," he stated, but inside he felt it quite different. It wasn't the fact that the war was coming, just this quest and the ring bearer. Would he be strong enough to bear it? Would he make it all the way to Mount Doom? Tanroth shook his head. How dared he doubt it? He felt ashamed, and made a last effort to spot Firiel and Rostion. They couldn’t be spotted anywhere, to Tanroth’s big disappointment. Had he seen them for the last time? He could glimpse Dunaire however, who smiled and was in the next moment gone. She had moments before said her goodbyes to him and now she too would be gone. Tanroth sighed, and made a grimace

"Come, we must ride back with haste," he said suddenly, avoiding Arilewen's look. Blank-eyed, they walked towards the Swan Inn again, where the horses would be waiting for them to take them home to Lothórien. Now they would only be two to share the difficult road, but they would make it together. Tanroth looked over his shoulder to see the last glimpse of his friends; companions, and a part of his kin, setting sails for Valinor...

[piosenniel]

~*~ To Elvenhome ~*~