Long Lost Leaves

[Ingwe]

Ingwionis sat down with A'mael once again to have dinner, near Dol Guldur, near the place he thought he would not have to endure now. The reading Radagast had to study over would be arduous but with so much of it, he was likely to find something, and thus there may be no need for anyone in the company to go back into those halls, perhaps ever again. But he knew it'd not be that easy.

The company had been out from Rosgobel for over two months now, "or was it three by now" Ingwionis pondered. Either way, it didn't much matter.

Ingwioinis knew that he would most likely remain here, in these lands, forever. He was given a chance to go back to Aman, a chance to never fade. He withdrew from that chance and chose to live with his wife. She had been summoned to leave Middle Earth as well, and her offer was still open. Ingwionis' father was strict with him though. In a vision, only days ago, he had spoken with his father, who from Tirion cast his thoughts to him and Ingwionis onto him. It was hopeless now. There would be no going to Aman again, unless by some miracle, and Middle Earth seemed to be out of miracles now. The powers had left, for the most part.

So he pondered that his destiny would be a long one. He would get a chance to journey throughout Middle Earth again, and perhaps many times with the life he had left to live, before the fading would begin. There was no set time for that to happen now, but he felt his spirit ever so slowly consuming him over the last age.

He would share in the fate of those called the Avari, most of whom survived the darkest and most troubled times any Man, Elf, or Dwarf has ever seen in history. In the east they faced brutal foes - the Easterlings, and others such as Elves and Dwarves of the Four Eastern Clans who had joined the ranks of evil. After the fall of Sauron, the power hold over those people began to die out, but it had only been four or five years now since that time came. Perhaps some of the Elves in the east had lived well, and managed to remain with the friendly folk there, but if any did, it was not very many.

By now, the Elves of the East in reality had pushed very close to the shores of the Eastern Sea that was far away and beyond these lands. The quest of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee to Mordor was great and long indeed, but a most greater journey as far as distance separated the company from any potentially friendly aide, if they were waylaid by renegades of Rhun. The Balchoth had not been completely annihilated. Their influence still filled the eastern summits of the mountains south of the Sea of Rhun and perhaps beyond. They went here and there, from the South-east of Mordor the whole way to Northern Rhun and even into the further regions of the east. They drew so far north that they passed near the settlement of Urd, just a hundred leagues east of where Ingwionis and A'mael had spent the last few years together.

But Ingwionis and A'mael were lucky. They had sent their daughter (from Ingwionis' first wife) to Ithilien, to the new Elven settlements, to be safe. But by now their home had been spotted and without them there to defend it, with their guards drawn to the west, their home was razed by clansmen from the East; whether it was the Balchoth or Wainriders of Old or even Variags who spotted it, it wasn't known yet, for none were there to witness it. Ingwionis had bad feelings the last two nights and had asked himself questions of what he would find when he returns.

Now those questions didn't matter anymore. In speaking with his father in dream, he wasn't able to sleep for three nights now. His thoughts were dreadful. What is to become of me, and of us, if both of us do remain here? Like a child, in his mind he asked himself, would it hurt to fade, would it be painful, would it be sad? He was brought to a cold chill by these thoughts, a chill he hadn't felt since he was left for dead two ages ago after the War of Wrath, when his father lost track of him on the field of battle. His father was most hasty in returning, and now he was most hasty in judging him to not be allowed to come back after his task here was complete. And after the wonder, the sadness, the fear, all began to subside, he felt angry, and cursed in his mind to the point that it came out aloud. "Oh no!" He realized he may have startled everyone, but he looked around him. It was already night now, and most were all asleep. His thoughts had kept him on edge for hours, unaware of his surroundings. He was lost in a thought, living a single moment in the span of a few hours. But to him, the time had passed very quickly now. He had only been thinking of this for several minutes, and now a few hours had passed? But it was natural for this to happen to him. He was a day dreamer, and oftentimes he would slow his own time while everything went on around him. It had gone the other way before, when he could see everything in slow motion, but only when he was calmer, and at peace.

A'mael had risen at around this point. Perhaps she felt that the calm of the night had been stolen. Radagast meanwhile was still reading over the studies brought to him.

A'mael had tried to talk to Ingwionis while he was in deep thought, but failing that, she had decided to get some sleep. It was not common for this to happen, but has happened before. Ingwionis' mind was fully directed at his father's words to him a couple of nights ago, the focus of that concentration being the possible fate for him that his wife would also share.

He had to get his mind off of this subject, and he knew A'mael would not allow him to leave the group. A'mael was not a light sleeper, but she always came out of nowhere to bring sanity to her husband's sometimes sudden and unwise decisions. Ingwionis went with feeling sometimes, to the point that he would abandon planning and go in unprepared. A'mael kept her eyes open slightly as she laid down, watching her husband standing like a statue at the campfire, waiting to make a quick approach if he slipped off suddenly.

They were not so likely to have found the manuscripts that were needed to go on with the quest. I've done nothing to this point, and it should be my chance now, the chance to show that I've got a job to do, that I can show my father that I remained here for a reason. I've got to do it for myself and my dear A'mael. And if I do not survive it, either way, I'm doomed if I don't try, and if I don't try, then more than myself is doomed. Ingwionis thought passionately now, the wreckless fire was burning again. His grey-blue eyes seemed red against the light of the fire, but redder than they would be had it just been the reflection of the flames. He knew that the enemy oftentimes concealed things only found at night. The Elves have done such things as well - doors that open under moonlight, usually boggy swamps that filled with clean water at the touch of night when fate was high and need was near. The Witch-King and his apprentices had ever dwelt in mind-numbing realms of imagination involving Ring Lore and the Black Speech that Morgoth had corrupted from the Elves and Sauron later reinforcing for means of his own reign. They would keep secrets such as these away from all - it is likely the Nazgul always had something against Saruman, even when he 'served' their dark lord. And with that they would cuddle away the secrets of the Ents, so that Sauron could get to them first, but he never did get to all of them...in the North...or the South...or the West......or......the East. The Black Speech was a language of lies and cover-ups. The very information they kept locked away could only be uncovered by bravery only the Valar themselves, including Morgoth, would attempt. The night made the fear rise in both Orc and Man. All have had fear, and Sauron was ever one to fear. Ingwionis had studied the past, both that in which he had lived in and that which was lived before him, and he had studied intent...particularly the intent of those who served to do him and his kin the most harm.

A secret found within the abominable fear of the night...in the depths alone...without anyone to guard or guide me. If I remain quiet and contained...I may elude whatever lurks there, and something does lurk there. I feel it in the stem of my neck. The words in his mind were now not of fear, but of anger for what he thinks his father has cursed him with. I lost a wife once, not again. She is young, and if I die, she will be free to go to Aman. If I succeed, we will both be free to go there. Morbid thoughts he had now, a foolish intention from one whose sleep has been greatly hindered. He would use his own death as a shield for his grief now, and he knew this very well, but he would also use the night and the secrets of the enemy to try and find more evidence. It isn't my doing that brought me here...it was my father's, and it was my father's will that would keep me here if I do not do this...so it is decided.

Ingwionis slowly turned away from the campfire toward A'mael, who seems to be asleep. He kneels down and very slowly, quietly, and discreetly, pulling from his haversack laying on the ground behind him, a cloak. It was no normal cloak. It was one of the cloaks given to him by his first wife, and he slowly reached for his own bow A'mael had given him. Disappearing behind the cloak, while the others lay quietly, and Radagast on the other side of a tree deep in thought, he leaped yards ahead of him. Within the second step, A'mael was in pursuit and Radagast turned to look as he had already sensed it before Ingwionis leaped ahead.

Ingwionis went further and further, toward the grounds of Dol Guldur and into the darkness. An old torch burnt out decades ago caught his cloak and he was now more easily visible.

Ingwionis turned to look toward those pursuing him, no doubt A'mael was not the only pursuer from the company. He backed away into a notch in the hallway he was in, and it was incredibly dark - totally dark. And the sound of footsteps from his right side ended...........



But there was a break of silence to his left and with only a fraction of a second to react, Ingwionis drew his sword and swung carefully at what he knew was not someone in the company.

As Ingwionis swung, a pile of metal armor fell to the ground and the vision of a great armored...something...nearly nine feet tall...collapsed to the ground as a heap of metal armor. The torches in the hallway very briefly spewed fire and went out again. Ingwionis could not help but to be frightened inside, but on the outside he drew fury, one he had not shown for some time. From behind him, toward where A'mael and possibly others were pursuing, he felt a hand on his shoulder draw him toward whoever it was...and the touch was not the touch of darkness as he at first expected...