"Zaharias is no longer among the living."
§§§
Edarion sucked in a breath of air and pressed himself against the back of his chair. He closed his eyes and a single tear escaped, tracking a wet trail down his aging cheek. Illeandir fiddled with his knife as he waited for his friend to come to terms with the shock. The three had been inseparable for many years until Estel King had laid himself down and Eldarion took up his father's mantle. Several minutes passed while emotion twisted and turned the king's features. The weight Illeandir carried at the death of his lifelong friend settled more heavily and he found he no longer possessed the energy nor will to move and his knife clattered against the table top.
Eldarion woke from his revere at the noise and looked the elf in the eyes. Tears flowed freely from his eyes now. He had been close to the quiet elf with slanted silver eyes and hair blacker than the dead of night and skin that glowed white in the moonlight.
"How?" he asked, unable to form more than a single word. The planes of Illeandir's face went rigid and his deep green eyes hardened. The memory was painful, far to painful to revisit yet his mind, unbidden, brought him back to that fateful night on the plains of Hollin. He slipped his fingers under his fallen knife and let his hand lay there as if trapped by the finely wrought steel. He closed his eyes and spoke in a low voice, thick with grief and sorrow.
"We were escorting Legolas Thranduilion to the Grey Havens along with the Dwarf Gimli." He paused. "Zaharias and I were with a dozen other warriors for Thranduil would not have his son alone upon the land with an elderly Dwarf who's days were numbered. We were but three days from Imladris when a band of goblins, nearly two hundred strong, surrounded us in the dead of night. Zaharias was on watch and had been separated from us." Illeandir paused again as he relived the battle for their lives. Eldarion patiently waited. Illeandir took a long slow breath.
"We were far outnumbered, outmatched, we fought a losing battle. Three had perished, we knew not what had befallen Zaharias, before a great fear descended upon us." Illeandir clenched a shaking hand around the hilt of his knife. "It was no mindless attack. A shadow, wreathed in flame, wielding a sword of fire bore down on those of us that remained." Illeandir fell silent, his hands clenched until his knuckles turned white. Eldarion watched his friend draw a shaky breath. What could have happened to make him fear a memory? Several moments passed before he spoke again, this time with a hollow voice.
"We fled to Imladris. There was nothing we could do. At the time we did not know what persued us, only that it filled us with a fear greater than any had felt before save Legolas, who had encountered such before. Under the safety of Imladris and what remained of Elrond's dominion over the land. No foul beings would dare enter. It was there that we learned a Valaraukar had crawled from deep within the earth and amassed an army."
Eldarion held up hand and Illeandir stopped. "I thought the Balrogs had been slain," he said. Illeandir shook his head.
"Only three are known to be dead, Gothmog, Durin's Bane, and the one slain by Glorfindel. We do not know how many Morgoth had under his power, only that they have been summoned."
"Or awoken," Eldarion said. Illeandir nodded solemnly.
"We waited three days for Zaharias to return but he never did. I could not leave his fate unknown, when they left I remained and searched for days. Where we had been ambushed was littered with bodies and the ground scorched. I buried the three that had given their lives and piled the weapons of the slain goblins at their feet. I never saw a trace of Zaharias save for his shattered bow.
"A small band had escaped, I tracked them for days, hardly eating or sleeping. On the tenth day their tracks vanished without a trace. They were gone." Illeandir's voice cracked. "I never found what happened. I searched for years for the slightest trace of him."
"How long ago did you give up?"
"I never truly gave up until I revisited the place where I lost the trail forty years ago." Illeandir twisted one of the two gold rings that adorned his left middle finger and pulled it off. He handed it to Eldarion. "Zaharias' ring. Given to him by his mother before she and his father left for Aman. I found it there. As long as I'd known him Zaharias would never be parted from it." Eldarion recognized the small ring with golden leaves, a small part of him feared it for what rings had been known for in the past but he felt nothing from this small keepsake. He handed the ring back. Illeandir placed the ring back on his hand which fitted neatly into the one already there. The two friends sat in silence. After several minutes Illeandir, his hunger returned, finished another plate heaped with food. When he was done he leaned back with a look of deep concentration, his mouth turned into a slight frown.
"I suspect you did not come just to visit an old friend."
"No."
"Why are you here? I know you dislike being among men, there are few things that would make you desperate enough to be among them again."
"You remember when my kin disappeared from the land," Illeandir said. Eldarion nodded. "They have also vanished from Aman." This was news to the king, his startled jerk that nearly spilt his wine gave it away.
"How do you know this?"
"The sea screams of their loss, the trees groan, and the earth mutters restlessly. I have never felt such distress. Even the stars weep. I must find them, the world threatens to break asunder. Something happened and I do not know where to begin."
"So you seek my help."
"Gondor keeps a vast record of knowledge. I hope to find something that history may tell. Even if I must search every piece of parchment."
"Why! That would take years! Decades even! Do you even know what you are looking for?" Eldarion demanded. Illeandir refused to look at him. Eldarion scoffed and leaned against the arm of his chair with his head resting heavily in his hand. "Whatever you are looking for is not in the archives."
"I can try."
"Illeandir!" Eldarion shouted slapping the table with his hand causing the elf to jump. "I may be younger in years but men mature faster than elves. There is nothing that can answer your question there."
"How do you know that?" Illeandir asked defiantly. Eldarion sighed.
"When I learned that the elves had disappeared from Middle Earth I had the best of my scholars search for any explanation as to why or how. For ten years they searched. What would have taken one man one hundred years to read they did in ten. And not once did they find any mention of what could have transpired."
The faint glimmer of hope that Illeandir had held onto to for so many years vanished. Snuffed out by cold reality. He dropped his head between his hands, thick hair falling over his face to conceal the tears. A low moan escaped his lips. A pain grew in his chest that slowly built until it pressed against his ribs. Was this what it felt like to be human? To know that you were the last of your kin when all had perished? Or knowing that no matter what you did you were doomed?
"Lean*," Eldarion said using the nickname he had given Illeandir long ago. Illeandir lifted his head slightly. "All is not lost. There is still hope. The stars shine even when you cannot see them."
Illeandir was silent for a long time, during that time a servant cleared away the table and set a bottle of wine before them. Neither one touched it. When Illeandir lifted his head again there was no sign of the distress that raged inside.
"I will not give up," he said quietly. Eldarion nodded. He'd expected no less from the stubborn elf. "I will find them should I have to face Morgoth myself. I will gladly die for my kin."
"I will not stop you for I know I cannot," Eldarion said. Illeandir smiled thinly. Though the greater part of his grief had passed a dull ache was still present deep inside his chest.
"And I will help you in whatever way I can," Eldarion promised.
They passed the time remembering their many travels together and many more mishaps until the sun was low in the sky. They would often laugh and servants passing by would stop to hear their king laugh as he had not since the queen died. His daughter also stopped at the door, for a long time she stood there just listening to her father. He sounded more alive than he had the last few years. She quietly walked away with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.
"You have a daughter," Illeandir said suddenly. Eldarion seemed to age before his eyes.
"Ah, yes. You have found the root of my problems," Eldarion said fondly though Illeandir detected exasperation. "It is not Nara who is at fault, I could not ask for a finer daughter. It is a society of men and women have no place. If I had a son perhaps things would be simpler but she is my only child."
"She seems to be doing well," Illeandir noted, remembering how she handled the soldiers at the gate.
"Aye, she has a gift for command, but being a woman, and a young one though she is older than many of our soldiers, she has little excuse to practice it."
"For what little practice she has she certainly knows what to do."
"Ah yes, I heard about your encounter with the guards before you arrived."
Illeandir rubbed his neck ruefully.
"Alas, that's not the only problem. Rohan is on the verge of a cival war and they look to us for aid. Their king passed away and the eldest prince has slain all but one of his brothers, whom had hidden himself and was thought to be dead. He was banished from Rohan for many years while his youngest brother, barely fifteen, struggled to rule. Five years later, Edros appeared in the northern provinces of Rohan with an army ten thousand strong that has grown since.
"King Hassun now looks to me for much of his army has deserted him in favor of Edros."
"He is the rightful heir," Illeandir reasoned.
"That's just it!" Eldarion exclaimed, stress evident in his voice. "The army claims Edros is the rightful king while the people claim Hassun as the only child of the king left and therefore the rightful heir."
"That is a recipe for disaster," Illeandir said. Eldarion scoffed.
"You have a gift for understatement. I cannot send more than one thousand men. Any more and I will have to send men who are guarding our borders and men who protect the people in Osgiliath and here also. And if what you say is true and a Balrog is amassing an army I will need all my men."
"How many men do you have now?"
"Actively, less than five thousand. Many are home with their families until I have need of them. Should they be summoned their ranks would likely swell to twenty thousand or more but it would take weeks." Eldarion stopped talking but Illeandir sensed that wasn't all.
"You fear that if you send aid to King Hassun, Edros will declare war."
Eldarion sighed heavily, "Not only that but yes, I fear that Edros' forces are far greater than we may think. At the same time the council pushes me to marry off Nara to form an unbreakable alliance with Rohan."
"You cannot do that without breaking the line of Númenorean Kings." Illeandir said.
"Nor can I force my daughter to marry someone she does not love in good conscious. My father married for love and so did I. Who am I to deny my daughter that same right? It is something she must do for herself, as my father did for me so I must let her."
"She will be queen then."
"Yes. The fourth queen of Númenor. I would ask what your council is?" Eldarion said. Illeandir thought for a moment.
"I do not know much about her to make judgment nor is it my place to."
"My friend, it does not matter where you stand. You are my oldest and greatest friend. As for..."
At that moment a servant knocked loudly on the door and stuck his head through.
"My king, the council requests your presence."
Eldarion sighed and looked out the window to the setting sun.
"I'd hoped they would leave me be for the night, but it seems not. Though I did promise them I would be finished by sunset." He slowly stood and gestured vaguely to the door where the servant stood. "Send someone to bring Illeandir to his room." The servant bowed low and left, feet pattering softly on the floor.
"I will see you tomorrow for the evening meal?" Eldarion asked. Illeandir nodded. "Good. You have free reign of the castle and the rest of the city and may come and go as you wish. I know how you hate the city. Until tomorrow, mellon nin."
"Hannon le, mellon nin." Illeandir said. Eldarion smiled and swept out of the room. Illeandir sat in silence for several minutes before pushing back his chair and moving to stand by the large window. He watched as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars peeked out from behind the growing blackness of the sky. From where he stood, boxed in on all sides by stone he could not see the whole sky. It bothered him in ways he could not explain. He'd always slept under the stars and open sky regardless of weather. He'd have to see if he could find a roof to spend the night on, as uncomfortable as it was, it was better than suffocating inside walls.
He let his mind wander, something he rarely did anymore. Memory danced temptingly at the front. Hesitating for only a moment he plunged in. He held a wooden sword and the face before him was of the only father he had ever known. Cúnor, an elderly elf with a sharp tongue and short temper, had raised Illeandir from infancy when his father and mother had died just days after he was born.
He was learning the sword for the first time that day and already he bore numerous bruises from Cúnor's own wooden sword. Cúnor was moving Illeandir's hands and feet until they stood in the right position. When he stepped away Illeandir immediately brought his right foot back in three inches until it was comfortable.
"No, no, no!" Cúnor shouted smacking Illeandir on the leg. Illeandir yelped and hopped up and down on one foot. "It's supposed to be that way or you'll lose your balance!"
"But I feel wrong when I do that!" Illeandir argued.
"You're all arms and legs, of course it's going to feel wrong! Now go back to how you were." Cúnor demanded. Grudgingly, Illeandir complied and moved his foot back out. Cúnor struck his blade and Illeandir, completely unprepared and off balance, toppled over in a heap of scrawny arms and legs. He pushed himself back up and faced his mentor again.
Cúnor attacked again. This time Illeandir slid his foot back three inches and brought his sword up to meet Cúnor's instead of letting the old elf hit without resistance. Illeandir managed to stay on his feet but the next blow struck his side in an explosion of pain. He doubled over holding his hands to his side, his practice sword lay at his feet. Cúnor rapped his knuckles harshly with his sword. Illeandir gasped and pressed his throbbing hand against his chest.
"Never drop your sword. It's a one way trip to death." Cúnor turned thoughtful for a moment. "Keep your feet closer together. It seems to work for you." Illeandir nodded and retrieved his sword. Over and over they dueled until Illeandir was able to hold his own for a matter of seconds before they retired.
A soft cough brought him back. Illeandir opened his eyes and saw the sun was now only a red band across the horizon. He slowly turned toward the sound. A small girl, not much older than ten years stood at the doorway holding a key and a few small towels in her hands.
"Sir, I am to escort you to your room." she said softly. Illeandir nodded once and shouldered his pack containing both food and spare clothing as well as a few other essentials. The brown haired girl led him through several hallways until they reached a simple door where she handed him the key.
"This will be your room as long as you stay. If you need anything there is a bell just inside the door. Ring it and someone will come. I will bring your evening meal and hour."
"Thank you." Illeandir said bowing slightly. The girl flushed and turned sharply on her heel and left. Illeandir fumbled with the key before it clicked into place. With another click the door unlocked and he slowly pushed it open to reveal a room with a single large window facing east and a medium sized bed. A desk sat in the opposite corner with a lightly cushioned chair pushed up next to it. Illeandir glanced down at his feet and saw a thick carpet, its color was impossible to tell without light. Glancing around again he saw a candle setting on a stand next to the bed.
Dumping his things on the bed, Illeandir walked over to the window hoping he could open it enough to get out. Fortunately it did. Standing on the sill he could see a small courtyard laid out before him with multiple trees. Satisfied that he had access to outside Illeandir closed the window and stepped down. The moment his foot touched the ground a sharp pain stabbed deep into his gut robbing him of breath.
Alarmed he looked at his stomach expecting to find a knife embedded into him. There was nothing. Heat flared through his body and his head pounded terribly. Groaning he lowered himself to the cool floor. What was wrong with him? He leaned his head against the wall, the motion sent the room spinning.
He closed his eyes only to snap them open when a spasm shook his body. His head cracked against the wall painfully. Black spots danced across his vision as he crawled away from the wall. Heat washed over him in waves, each hotter than the last until he felt like his skin was burning. Cramps wracked his body, starting first at his stomach then spreading to his arms and legs. His jaw clenched together so hard he felt it crack, try as he might he could not open it to yell for help. Blood rushed from his nose from where he had bashed it against the floor after a failed attempt to stand.
His last coherent thought was that somebody had slipped poison into the food and that it was meant for the king but he couldn't remember if Eldarion had eaten any. He couldn't say how long he lay there thrashing in pain, movements growing weaker with every passing minute as the poison took a deeper hold over him.
A woman screamed followed by a bang and he was left alone again. Spasms attacked him more frequently and he was dimly aware of his life slipping away.
Someone was speaking to him, rolling him over onto his back. Moving hurt. Strong fingers rubbed the muscles in his jaw, loosening them while hands held his arms and legs still. His jaw loosened and he screamed jerking a hand free and connecting with something soft. Angry words were shouted but not at him. More pain ripped through him, like fire through dry grass.
He felt himself being lifted and with one last agonizing scream knew no more.
******************************
It is finished! I can't believe I finally finished this dang chapter! Of all the chapters this is probably the most crucial to the story line and it took forever to finish! I hated and loved it at the same time. It's nice and long too. :) I apologize if you don't like dialogue but it was necessary.
I'm really sorry for not updating for a long time. And I apologize for the next update as well which will most likely take a while to finish also. And for the rest of the chapters too because school starts soon and I'm going to be very busy for the next nine months.
Lean* - pronounced lee-an (because screw proper pronunciation, it's a nickname) I also looked up the elvish language for something I needed and found that ea is actually pronounced as two syllables ee and a so I have solved the problem of pronouncing Illeandir.
It is pronounced ill-e-an-deer
Or if you want to shorten it, I usually do, it's ill-an-deer.
Zaharias is pronounced Za-har-ee-azz, or is you wish to shorten it, Zahr-azz or Zah-har-azz.
I personally like the shorter version better but it's up to you really how you choose to pronounce it. Just make sure you don't turn the z's to s because that would be awkward...