Letters from Middle Earth

[Valandil]

Tenth in a series:

2 Girithron (December), 1964

Mother,

Yesterday the spirit of King Araphant passed from this earth and went to be with his fathers. He was 175 years old and he reigned for 73 years. We will lay his body to rest three days hence. Arvedui now is King of Arthedain and I am Queen.

Araphant left us in peace. He was taken sick only a week ago. Gandalf arrived at Fornost after long absence on 28 Hithui (November), unbidden, but as though he knew what was to come. On the 29th, Gandalf (even I have come to call Mithrandir by this name) talked and laughed the whole day with the King, then on the 30th, the two of them counseled late into the night with Arvedui. When next morning we awoke, Araphant woke not. All the people mourn the passing of ‘Araphant the Good’, but they also rejoice at the coming of Arvedui to the throne. If Arvedui himself lives to be 175 years old, he will reign until 2039… and hopefully we may conclude our reign at Annuminas. Arvedui has not yet taken the name ‘Envinyatan’ – ‘The Renewer’ – for he waits until we remove to Annuminas for that… which will be perhaps in 36 years… the year 2000! At that time, he desires to take this new name for himself, and name the kingdom ‘Arnor’ anew. Unless I misjudge, as Elendil’s heir he desires also to re-claim the title ‘High King of the Dunedain’ – held of old by those at Annuminas. I know not how King Earnil of Gondor will receive such news, but I expect Arvedui to ask no tribute or levies. Already I judge we have little enough hope to gain a seedling of the White Tree, as Arvedui was Earnil’s rival claimant to Gondor’s throne.

It has been nigh twenty years, but Gondor’s rejection still chafes at Arvedui. He saw in that chance the hope to reunite the Dunedain, and to continue his line. I think he now hopes desperately to make manifest Malbeth’s words in another way… taking for himself a new name, and making his kingdom into a greater one. It is a great task, and it almost consumes him. But Malbeth has been ever a great seer. Not once have his words of foretelling proven false, though some of the words he shrouds in mists come true in a manner other than that expected at their first hearing. Malbeth says little to Arvedui, since the time of Gondor’s succession. We cannot say if he thinks Arvedui’s plans are futile, or if Arvedui takes the right path and may indeed fulfill his own doom for good by taking this on himself… or if Malbeth even knows. Malbeth is older even than was the King… 190 years now, and he says he will live to be 200! He says it as if in jest, but even the jests of Malbeth are counted weighty.

Would you hear of your grand-children, my mother? Aranarth is 22 years old. He has become a man, but will come unto greater manhood still in 10 or 20 years, as he is a Dunedain. He excels in all the training given a young prince. And I spy the young maidens of the kingdom looking upon him with favor, and I smile. Yet I know that his training must be rigorous, and that many years must pass ere we seek to find one for him to marry. Meanwhile, these young maidens will likely marry other men, but such is how things are. Father indeed waited unusually long to marry you, by the standards of Gondor, did he not? In this way, father seemed to follow the customs rather of Arnor, than of Gondor.

Aramir is 18 and a fine youngster. He has joined in the training with Aranarth, and already seems to be the loyal companion as is fit for the next brother to an heir. He is bold, and seems less inclined to the depth and insight of Aranarth, but is steadfast and always ready. You should see him at play in the games we hold! Ondowen is now 14, and begins to shine brightly among the other young maidens of Fornost, already grown tall and slender and pleasant of face and manner. Minohreth is 10, and if she loves her older sister dearly, she seems to think Aranarth no less than a Vala! Estelmir is an active little boy of 6, and Anoriel, whom you have yet to meet, is now 2 years old.

The work in the countryside progresses well. Within 12 or 15 years we should have a well-traveled road between Fornost and Annuminas, with a constant band of farmlands, one or two leagues wide, the entire way, with small towns here and about besides. At that time, Arvedui will begin to rebuild the old city, and re-make it as the new White City of the North. He will change the terms of those receiving royal grants, giving land in exchange for work to rebuild the city. Oh we so hope to leave a greater kingdom for Aranarth. And we so hope that if Arvedui will indeed be last to rule at Fornost, that Aranarth will be the first in over one thousand years to begin his reign at Annuminas!

We ourselves spent this last summer at Annuminas, our final summer as prince and princess. Arvedui directed the surveyors in laying out the major buildings of the new city. We had miners who searched for the best deposits of stone and metals, and engineers to begin devising the defenses and water conveyances. It has not yet begun to take shape, but we can well imagine how it will be.

Meanwhile, Arvedui seeks to lay claim to more of Arnor’s former lands. Few are willing to take farms on the East Road between Bree and the Weather Hills, so Arvedui under Araphant had already begun to establish outposts and guard-towers, there and on the South Downs and some few up the River Hoarwell above Tharbad. He thus hopes to ease the fears of those who would re-settle those lands with an evident presence of soldiers.

Give our deepest appreciation to Master Elrond and the Lady Celebrian for taking you into their home of late, and healing you of your illness, and providing you with a place of restoration. The Second Age Master of Weapons and War is truly become the Third Age Master of Healing and Lore. Perhaps even the Master of Hospitality. He must know that we would have sent for you long hence, but that the way to Imladris has become again more perilous of late, east of the Weather Hills. Nonetheless, Queen Elenawen wishes to join you there. We have made it known to her that she is welcome to stay here amongst her grandchildren, but we think she wishes to seek greater joy and peace, and that to stay at Fornost would be ever a reminder of her loss. Further, she treasures the friendship she had with you for all those years you spent at Fornost, while she was yet the only Queen here. Therefore Arvedui sends already his request to Elrond that she may be taken there to abide in spring.

The Yule is upon us again. This one will be bitter-sweet, as we consider our loss of Good King Araphant, but rejoice also over his good memories, and in the season, and with great celebration of the First Yule under King Arvedui. I know not how they observe this season at Imladris, Arvedui thinks they mark it not so much as we, so I therefore send you tokens of the Yule with this message, that you may remember those seasons you passed here at Fornost with us.

The blessings of the Valar be upon you this season!

Your daughter,

Firiel

[Valandil]

Eleventh in a series:

17 Urui (August), 1976

Dear Mother,

It is as we feared. Word comes from the far north that King Arvedui, my husband, perished in the sea, early last year. I had prepared myself against this day, but the soup is still bitter. For long have you had no word from me, so I will tell now the full tale, though I expect to be joining you and Queen Elenawen soon at Imladris. Then as three widow queens shall we dwell together.

It was just ere the Yule, nigh unto two years ago, that Angmar’s forces came upon us at Fornost. We expected no winter attack, as Angmar had seldom attacked then before. All were going about making preparations for the Yule, and if any warden or official looked into the Seeing Stones, they saw only a great winter storm, slowly advancing down both sides of the North Downs. None knew what that storm hid.

Finally, some few survivors of our distant northern villages and outposts came fleeing to Fornost, warning us that those storms hid all of Angmar’s might. It all seemed so hopeless. Those storms were less than a day’s march from us and it was then first light of day. Arvedui soon determined, after careful examination in the Stone, that there was no hope of holding off the advancing armies with the force we had on hand, for they were well equipped for scaling the walls and were of overwhelmingly great numbers. There were both orcs and men, as well as wolves and other figures… perhaps trolls, if that were possible.

Quickly the word was given for our people to flee. They were to leave all behind that was not needful to their flight and make haste westward, in small groups and by diverse paths, to try to cross the Lhun into Lindon. That would be even a steady ten days’ march for men in summer weather, but it seemed the only hope for all our people that winter. The army coming from the east side had already rounded the Downs and would reach the south gate of our outer wall before the northern army reached the west gate. And Lindon seemed the only land to the west which might have strength remaining to repel this foe.

In order that our people might gain time to flee, forces were sent both north and east to harry the advance of our foes. Of the rest, some were sent as groups to provide a rear-guard for our people, while the others were kept in the city, to give resistance to her capture and further delay the pursuit.

Oh mother, it was an awful day – and yet there is little account of what happened. Of those sent forth to delay the foes, none are known to have survived, though some may yet wander in the wilds, and that is our hope. Many of those who fled were pursued and cut down and many lost in the wilderness beside, with little provision and less hope. Everything that we held dear was lost that day... our people, our city, our kingdom… our dreams.

Arvedui then turned the stone to Gondor and bid the warden there to give news of our plight to King Earnil. He sent forth messengers to warn those in our realm; those of Bree and Shire, and the stations on the South Road, the soldiers on the East Road and in the South Downs, the city of Tharbad and those farmers on the way west toward Annuminas.

After giving orders for the general populace and the arrangements of the soldiers, Arvedui called our family together. He divided his personal guard; 10 for himself and 50 for us… and he took the 20 best foresters; 10 for himself and 10 for us. He took to himself Celebereg and some few other companions… and he bid the rest of us to depart and make all speed for Lindon… his wife and his sons and his daughters. He would not come with us, but would try to draw off the invaders and to exploit their weaknesses. He would go to the north, to draw them off of those in flight to the west, and those under our protection to the south. He hoped that fortune would return to us, and that we would meet again and see this foe destroyed, but he could not guess if it would be so. Aranarth bid him divide the Seeing Stones between them, that they could speak thereby, but Arvedui would have both, as seemed fit to him. Our farewells were painful, but we strove to keep back our tears.

After one last embrace with my husband, I took my daughters to make our hasty preparations. My sons had a strange encounter, of which I now know the full tale. Much like my brother Faramir, they determined, all three, to defy their father’s orders and to take to the battle, that they might defend him and the kingdom. Happily, they met a better fate than my brother, for outside the chamber, awaiting them, was Malbeth the Seer. He bid them follow him to his private chamber and there he gave them each his counsel.

Aranarth he bade to do as his father commanded – to lead the people to safety. He told him that to disobey was to yield to his pride and would lead to our people’s destruction, but that to obey was to honor not only his father and king, but to honor all his fathers before him and all his sons after. For only in his safe arrival at Lindon was their any hope for the future of the Dunedain. He gave also into his keeping heirlooms of the house of Arnor… and treasures of Numenor, such as he had gathered into his keeping for this day. There were scrolls and tapestries and various small treasures, but there was also the Elendilmir, which he had just obtained of Arvedui, the Scepter of Andunie and the shards of the sword Narsil itself! With such treasures in his keeping, Aranarth was forbidden to recklessly risk all in personal combat that day.

Aramir he bade to provide safe-keeping over me, his mother, as well as his sisters. For he told him that Aranarth would have troubles enough to watch over all our people, and that someone must also see to the safety of his father’s wife and daughters. He gave him a necklace which he said had belonged to his own mother, and indeed, that was the only trinket or personal item in Malbeth’s chamber. For though he had long lived there, his room was simple – he had only a bed, a table and chair with paper, pen and ink, and a stand with basin, pitcher and cup.

(continued)

[Valandil]

Letter 11 - Part 2

Then he dismissed those two and, strangest of all, and only of late to our ears has come this tale: He said unto Estelmir, that though only 16 years of age, he knew him to be notable as a scribe, as well as a forester and hunter. He equipped him with winter garments, canvas for shelter, rope, a knife, bow and arrows… and a tube with scroll, pen and ink. Malbeth told Estelmir that he had himself one last duty to perform for his people, and that it needed a witness. Then Malbeth took Estelmir off to the south gate. Estelmir inquired why he had not so equipped himself as well, but Malbeth only told him he needed not the winter garments whither he was going.

The south gate of the outer wall was mostly deserted, for Malbeth had assured Arvedui that he would hold it long himself with only one helper of his choosing. Arvedui must have been surprised at this, but men do not doubt Malbeth, and it greatly aided the plans. Indeed, perhaps Arvedui thought that Gandalf or Curunir would come as Malbeth’s helper… and thought the south gate safe indeed, little realizing that the helper of Malbeth’s choosing would be his own youngest son. When they reached the gate, they left it open, but Malbeth stood just outside. He sent Estelmir to an outcropping of rock high overhead, close enough that he might see and hear, but far enough, and sheltered enough that he might escape detection. He bid him stay and watch to the end and record all that he saw and heard, to not seek to encounter the foe, but at night to slip into the hills and survive the winter as best he might, then strive to return to his brothers and his people, even be it a year or two thence. And then the two waited for the onrushing army.

Much of this account I now have of Estelmir, for we have none other who saw it as he did. First, he watched the city empty itself – so many people, he thought, yet not moving so swiftly, nor seeming so prepared for what they would encounter. Many tried to bring too much that would slow them; wagons and packs and sleds laden with things not to treasure over life itself. They brought their cattle and their sheep and hogs – and whatever manner of beast they owned. Arvedui had released all the draft horses to any that might use them, and all seemed so heavy-burdened. Most fled through the west gate, save a few who left early from the south gate, for it was known that the south gate would be sooner under attack. Yet from his perch, Estelmir was able to see the west gate as well, and to take note of what transpired there.

They waited, Malbeth standing still as stone, leaning on his staff, with his cloak close about him. Finally, the winter storms came into view – first from the east, then from the north. Late in the afternoon, the storms reached Fornost – icy winds swirling all about, blinding snow, bitter cold. After just a taste of that, the storms broke completely and all was still. There was revealed for any to see, a great northern army half a league from our west gate, and a great eastern army less than half a mile from our south gate. They began to advance on us; slowly at first, then with a quiet drum-beat, but ever-growing and building into great sound that shook the very earth. Those in flight, still on the open plain, panicked and ran shrieking in all directions. Many soldiers guarding those in flight drew themselves up in a line to halt, or at least slow, that great northern army.

Meanwhile, the advancing orcs of the eastern army had come to our south gate, deserted by all save Malbeth. They stopped when they saw him, a lone silent figure… who was but an old man. Then they laughed and jeered insults at him, and harsh threats. In the midst of all this Malbeth raised his voice above their din and shouted to them, “Stop!� A captain of orcs came forth, menacing Malbeth with his sword and asked why he should stop for a single old man before the open gate of a city he meant to take. Malbeth answered him, “For not long hence, your own master shall slay you on this very spot.� Stunned, the orc drew back, for though seeming outrageous, truth somehow rang through this claim of Malbeth.

Then Malbeth did an amazing thing. He spoke to all those orcs gathered about, telling them that their days were now short – and that none would see another summer. Then he pointed to each in turn and prophesied, telling him who would be his slayer. For some, it was to be a roquen of Gondor, for others – a rider of the Eotheod, for others – an elf of Lindon or Imladris, for some few, an avenging man of Arthedain… but he named each by his own name, as “You, Sherpaz, shall die at the spear of Fehrwohlt of the folk of Eotheod. You, Grenzik, will taste last of all the sword of Telemir, soldier of Gondor. You, Burghrat… you will skulk away and avoid the slaughter, but will then perish slowly in the wilderness… cold, hungry, alone.� Finally, Malbeth looked at one orc among the many and his eyebrows shot up. He told him, “You, Chunglabe… you shall be slain not one minute hence by your very comrade, Bildreeg!� This last was finally too much for them. The orcs rushed on him as one, to do him in. Malbeth was quickly cut down, but he showed no fear, nor even sign of pain. He who had never wielded a sword, died as bravely as any warrior could. An old man indeed… 200 years old.

But as they hacked him, blades flying in the air, they stopped suddenly, as if frozen. In their frenzy, a misguided stroke had taken one of their own. It was Chunglabe, the one whom Malbeth had last addressed. He looked up at the one whose sword had pierced him and faintly said, “Bildreeg…� and then he convulsed, stiffened and said no more.

The orcs were taken aback by this and drew away once more, as though contemplating their fates told them, having seen the one already fulfilled. And then, though his mouth moved not, a sound like laughter came from the body of Malbeth. The orcs broke completely. They shrieked and shivered and wailed. They began to panic and run about. Estelmir thinks that they all would have fled, if not for the arrival of the second wave of the army… men – cursed men of Carn Dum! And with them rode their sorcerer-king, on a black horse. By all accounts, this same has sat on the throne since Angmar was founded, more than 600 years ago.

Seeing the dead bodies and the open gate and the disarray of the orcs, the evil king called forth the orc captain to give account of himself. The captain came trembling, and told his king what had happened, but not telling what Malbeth had foretold about himself. The king was angered, and ordered him to remove the bodies and to sack the city. The captain hesitated, looking about, as if for a way of escape. He obviously did not want to touch Malbeth. Enraged, the king lifted his great mace, and brought it down mightily on the foul creature’s head, crushing the helmet inward. The orc crumpled to the ground, and so was filled more of Malbeth’s word, and I doubt not that all the others fell just as he said they would. Some men came forward and dragged aside all the bodies while others herded the orcs on into the city before them. Soon after passing the gates, the orcs regained their ferocity and began to run hither and thither all through the city, looting and disturbing and destroying, but there was none there for them to slay.

While the orcs and men moved into the city from the south gate, their king paused over the body of Malbeth. Then he looked up suddenly, and gazed about him, looking high on the rocks above. His look paused when it passed where Estelmir hid, but only for a brief moment. In that moment, Estelmir says that he was himself seized with such a fear as he had never known, nor could have imagined and desired to flee. But he mastered himself and stayed perfectly still, concealed by rocks and branches… and soon, the gaze moved on.

(continued)

[Valandil]

Letter 11 - Part 3

Oh mother, it was sad to hear of Malbeth’s end, but it sounds like the work of the unseen hand who intervenes, and indeed, who had gifted Malbeth with foresight for his whole life. Arvedui never disdained Malbeth, although the words of Malbeth seemed to doom him… for he knew full well that these words were not Malbeth’s own, but were simply given to him. In fact, from coming to the throne, Arvedui gave orders that a scribe be kept ready at any time to record the words which Malbeth was given to speak. And upon Malbeth he bestowed honors and favors, and he had ever a place at the King’s table, although he never did seem to care for such honors that men seek and he ate but little. Yet I think he accepted them out of love and respect for Arvedui. Such wondrous things are said of him. For as I say, he never wielded sword, nor did he ever take strong drink, nor feast to excess and he never took a wife, but remained celibate. Perhaps one day I shall take upon myself to write an account of his life.

Their king entered the outer walls of our city, driving his forces through the empty streets, right up to the main south gate of the older city. This was barred against him, and he spent much time breaking through, only to find again a deserted place. For our people had all gone. If indeed he had led his forces first around to the west gate, perhaps we would have all been lost, crushed between his two armies in the field, as he thought to crush us between his armies in the city.

By this time much had happened at the west gate. The storm broke with the setting sun, and a few trolls were there indeed, sheltered from the sun by the storm’s might. They broke forth and set upon the west gate and the walls about. Men and orcs brought forth ladders and sought to scale the walls. Then they turned their eyes about and saw the flight of our people. Our own group was the last to depart and the largest, and held together in good order while the others broke and fled – and some of the foe turned from the city walls and gave chase.

Just as Angmar’s forces began to overcome those walls, and while their other army finally began to enter at the south gate, there came from within the walls a loud trumpet call. All was still for a moment, then the west gate was thrown open, and forth came Arvedui the King, with his companions and his small detachment of guards and foresters. They came forth riding on horses, but not our heavy horses… these were those left of the fleet horses used by the messengers, now made into chargers for the king and his men. They flew past those foes nearest the walls and fell upon the flank and then the rear of those who attacked our people afield. None of these foes were mounted, so Arvedui and his men went hither and thither as they willed, closing, striking and moving on to another. The enemy wanted to bring down the king, so they sought to close him in, but they could not. Meanwhile, our people were able to flee once more, as their foes turned to hem in the king. The king stayed out of their hands for more than half of an hour and then, as they still converged, he and his men forced their way through the last gap, turned to the north and rode hard away. This was the last we saw, the last I saw, of my husband. But if he had joined us, all Angmar would have pressed us, while they divided themselves after – some pursuing him northward, others harassing our people westward, and Estelmir says it was long before all those orcs scattered in the city could be brought together to aid in the chase.

Even when Arvedui came forth, those at the gates and walls had turned to chase him. As they did so, all those left inside erupted forth, fought their way through the few that remained and marched across the plain, with all haste, yet holding their formation and not dispersing in flight. Most of Angmar sought the greater prize of the king, but some gathered to fight this band. Though they suffered losses, they prevailed each time and eventually joined with the rear-guard who defended us. They were led by my brother-in-law, Araphor, who left the gate with 8 score men and reached us with 7 score remaining – quite a feat that day and on that field. But just as they joined us and as Araphor greeted his nephew Aranarth, an arrow struck him down from behind. He then asked only of his wife and child. None wished to tell him their fate, but Aramir said, ‘They have gone on ahead.’ With the clarity of life’s end, Araphor saw the true meaning and with his last breath gasped that he hastened on to join them. It was a fell day.

Full night was now falling, we had just reached the woods at the edge of the plain, more than a half league west and south of the city – and it was just then that the King of Angmar re-emerged from the city, declaring it deserted and began to organize his companies for the pursuit and destruction of our people.

For the next three days we rested little. We were in constant flight, taking only brief rests after long hours of marching, interrupted by fending off attacking raiders from our rear. I remember little more than the constant weariness, the foul faces of our orc assailants and how those around us fell – too many and too often. The men guarding us stood steadfast, but always they were diminished in number. We had each taken no more than one or two day’s provision, which we attempted to stretch into a week – so with much exertion and little food we weakened further. We had taken no water, as there was plenty of snow. The snow slowed us, but it slowed our foes as well. It also left them an all-too clear trail by which to keep up the chase.

The people had divided into many groups and ours was the largest. Now and then a smaller group would join us. We said nothing, though we felt the hopes of our people were greatest if we stayed in small groups as we were hunted. But that may not be – and surely the enemies we repelled would have devoured a smaller group. A few times we reached an isolated farmhouse where the people had not yet heard of the terror which was upon us. So in those times we gathered more provision and a few more people to us as well.

On the fourth day, we had only few encounters and our spirits began to rise. The fifth day, no attacks at all, though some thought they marked sounds off to the left or the right. On the sixth day all was still, and we thought ourselves finally beyond the grasp of the enemy, so that we planned to rest on the seventh day and refresh ourselves for the remainder of the trip. By this time we were more than half-way to the Lhun, a bit south and west of Annuminas. We had perhaps 700 people with us, including six score fighting men.

(continued)

[Valandil]

Letter 11 - Part 4

So we rested for all that day, but as dusk arose there came shrill cries of war. Our foes had come upon us, and they had us hemmed in, from behind and before. Their numbers were great and the outcome seemed in doubt, for we could not this time press on and seek to slow them. All reached for something they might use as a club or spear. The weapons of those already fallen were given to women and to children. Then our foes beset us and all seemed lost.

A hail of arrows came unexpected from the south flank, striking not us, but our enemies… then another, and another, each with deadly accuracy. It was a company of two score archers, of the Halflings of Shire. They then divided themselves, sending some to oppose each part of the orc army. Our men pressed all the harder and the orcs began to fear. The swords of the Dunedain and the bows of the Halflings then made short work of them. Only once did a squad penetrate to our archer-friends. A half dozen reached them unscathed and began to wreake havoc among them, too close in their midst for proper use of the bows. Aramir and a companion rushed to their aid and threw down those orcs, the last with the aid of a halfling pikeman, though the orc mortally wounded him as he fell. Then the field was won.

The fallen pikeman had been their captain. Another halfling came forward to Aranarth, touched his hat and offered his service. He was their captain’s lieutenant, and his name was Anzelain Tuck. The messenger had reached them at the end of the second day after the fall of Fornost. They had taken Arvedui’s warning as a summons and sent this aid, all who could be gathered so quickly, with more to follow. He seemed crestfallen to hear that Fornost was already lost and her people scattered and harried in the wild, for their intent had been to go to Fornost. After resting from nightfall the day before, and after this fresh attack, our people were ready to move on, but these stalwart friends said they would hide themselves along our trail and seek to bar further pursuit. Oh, may Eru and the Valar bless all them and their people richly!

At last, after five more days travel, with less food than before, but a bit more rest – and no further attack, we reached the Lhun. It was not yet frozen-over so we walked south along it another four or five leagues until we met a small company of Cirdan’s Elven foresters. Some smaller groups of our people had already arrived, so they had news of the fall of Fornost and the flight through the wilderness. They rejoiced at the arrival of our royal house and escorted us one more league to a ferry station they had made. We crossed and there were united with hundreds more of our people. The next several days they continued to arrive and Aranarth and Aramir began to go back across the Lhun, seeking and finding more wanderers afield and returning with them. Cirdan granted us space to dwell and his people assisted ours in the making of winter shelters. Aranarth and Cirdan took counsel together. Our arrival brought the first news of Arvedui’s flight to the north, so Cirdan made preparations for a ship to sail north along the coast, as far as the ice permitted, in hopes of finding him and his men. But we heard no word from the ship once it departed.

The Yule had passed, though it was still the season, and the Elves gave a great feast and many gifts to our people, of such things as were needful to help us through the winter. After another week we had settled in for the time, and those arriving had begun to dwindle, until only now and again a lone wanderer reached us, with tales of horror and despair.

When winter ended, Cirdan sent for Aranarth. A fleet of Gondor had arrived at the mouth of Lhun, with great force for war. Alas, that it was come so late. For since more than a year before the attack on Fornost, we had warnings of a gathering of Angmar’s forces. These we relayed to Gondor, with requests for their aid, but ever were their counsels divided, for some feared that to make a great sending to the North would open them to attack from Gondor’s own foes. What good, they asked, to send forces that we may save Arthedain, and thereby lose Gondor?

Earnil had come not himself, but sent his son Earnur, who is grown into an enormous man. He says little – and I know not whether he recalls me from those days long ago… 35 years before this! Still, Earnil did send to our aid at last, for when Arvedui told of the attack by the Stone, he would delay no more, but dismissed all counsel of caution and sent his fleet. Perhaps he truly did honor Arvedui and our alliance. Perhaps he even remembered me kindly, as I was in my early youth. But it does seem certain that Earnil was moved by that message of Arvedui. And we learn of late that Earnil had further contact with Arvedui through the stone, and found something of his movements, right up to just a bit before Gondor’s fleet reached Lindon.

Much of what came next you know, for Gondor’s great forces marched off to war, thousands and thousands of men. With them went Cirdan’s armies and Aranarth leading those who remained of our fighting men – some 12 score, along with some few dwarves who came from further north. Cirdan had already sent word to Elrond and asked that he send his forces to Fornost as well, that Angmar’s armies might be defeated at last. And so it was. Angmar’s King thought too little of the force sent against him and too much of his own warriors and sent all forth to war, with too little thought to their arrangement or how they were ordered, and all were swept aside.

(continued)

[Valandil]

Letter 11 - Part 5

In mid spring, we brought our people back to our own lands. The enemy had mostly holed up for the winter in Fornost, sending out raiding parties to gather plunder for their provision, but not marching fully to war against the Bree-land or the Shire, likely waiting for that until the spring. We found a few of our farms undestroyed, and a farmer with wide lands five leagues north of Bree granted that we set thereon our encampment, to which we might gather news and make our plans.

Aranarth journeyed to Fornost and found it hopelessly defiled. Once what crop we could sow was in the field (we were given seed by the folk of Shire and Bree), he sent men to salvage from Fornost what they could and to burn the rest. We gathered news from all about. None were found alive from those on the East Road, though some few on the South Road had escaped, and perhaps half those soldiers in the South Downs. Tharbad had not been attacked, and some had fled there. Some were found here and about, surviving in the wild, but many more were found who had not survived… those whom the foe had fallen upon, and those who had fallen from hunger or cold. No further word of our rescuing archers had reached Shire. At last, in the harvest time of last year, Aramir found Estelmir, who told his strange tale and added to what we knew of that Last Day. We were overjoyed to find him, for when we marked his absence from our flight, we thought him lost to us. But ever, Aranarth sought for news of his father, sending out parties in all directions, but mostly to the north. All returned with no news. As summer came, and then grew into fall, our hope for him began to fade, for he would surely have managed to come back by then, if he yet lived. When winter came, Aranarth knew he must abide in one place, that any word could be brought to him. But Aramir would not be dissuaded even by the winter, so he continued to venture forth, ever farther and for longer, and Estelmir began to go with him.

Finally, just days ago, they returned from a long voyage to the far north. Strangely enough, they had met Gandalf on their return, just as they passed the ruin of Fornost, so he accompanied them. They brought with them a strange man from Forochel, of the people… Lossoth. He gave his account to Aranarth, how Arvedui had come to him the winter before last, how he and his people gave them food and shelter, how Arvedui’s men kept a fire at the coast and how one day a great ship came for them… but too early in the spring, for there was still much ice. How Arvedui thanked him, and went aboard despite his warnings, feeling his duty to re-join his people and not wishing further delay. And how, after he boarded, he was lost, with all his men, and all those who sailed that great ship, and with those round stones he kept.

Then the man took forth a ring and said that it was a token of Arvedui’s thanks, and that he wished to redeem it. Arvedui had told him that he could name his price and he asked for four wagons of supplies and goods and tools. Aranarth examined the ring and saw that it was the very Ring of Barahir! While despairing to hear final word of his father’s death, he esteemed the man who had aided his father; giving him food, shelter and good counsel. He gave orders for a great feast, and then gave an order that this man be granted three times what he had asked… no less than twelve wagons full of provision and goods and tools. When this man, Ikwen, finally departed from us, he left rejoicing, both at his new wealth and for hearing at last the news of Angmar’s destruction. The man also had some few other items to give us from Arvedui and his men, including some letters they had written against the chance they would return not. I have myself a letter from Arvedui… perhaps the last words he has ever written.

Alas, so many are lost to me. None knows the fate of my dear friend Forniel, who was a sister to me. Of Arvedui’s other sisters, Imrawen and her husband Dernlias live, though they lost their elder children, but Ithilwen and her family are no more. We have suffered less than most, for we have no more than a quarter of our former people. Fornost is beyond saving, and Annuminas is not yet ready to be dwelt in. Nor do Aranarth and Gandalf think it good that we make for ourselves a place, while some may yet live who would work toward our destruction. We simply have not the strength in arms to lay further claim to the land. Therefore, Aranarth will forsake the title of ‘King’ – as he has no land to rule, and take instead the title ‘Chieftain’ – for he now rules a people only, who have no home. They would have made him their king, once we had final news of Arvedui’s end, and still think him their king, but he has no kingdom. He arranges our people in groups and advises and instructs them in how they will now live. My older daughters depart from me. Ondowen is already wedded to the son of the farmer on this land, and now Minohreth wishes to wed one of our young soldiers. Even Ondowen is too young for this, but what can I say? I have no means to provide for them. If they have husbands, perhaps they will do better. Even Estelmir joins with the men, at his young age, but he has already proven himself hardy in the wilderness. He says he journeyed on his own up to Carn Dum, and spied it out. I have only Anoriel left to me, my youngest, who will soon be 14.

All our dreams are now lost. There is no Arthedain and there will be no Arnor. There is no Fornost and there will be no Annuminas. We had wanted to leave for Aranarth so much more than what we started with, yet we leave him only a shadow of what we had. And I have lost my husband, he with whom my father matched me, and with whom I found at last the love I long had sought. I recall those days of my youth, and how cruel I thought my fate to be matched with this unknown prince of the forsaken north. My fate was far kinder indeed than I could have dreamed it would be, but now I lose all that came to me.

I would be a hindrance to my son and to my people now. Elrond invites me and I will indeed come there soon and dwell again with you. Give my greetings to him, as well as Celebrian and their children, and to Celeborn and Galadriel – and to Elenawen, who must now mourn the loss of her son, as I mourn him, my husband. And truly, I had prepared myself for that news from Forochel, and deemed Arvedui lost indeed, but the words yet stung as I heard them.

After all this, Malbeth was right… Arvedui was indeed Last King in Arthedain.

Your daughter,

Firiel

[Elanor the Fair]

Well done, Valandil!! It took me a while to read the letters but they were a great find!!

[Valandil]

Twelfth in a series:

4 Lothron (May), 2056

Dear Ondowen,

Greetings my daughter. I hope that this finds you well, for my children and grandchildren are my great reasons for hope. I fear that I am not so well myself. I have just passed my 160th birthday and guess that I may not see another.

I see too little of you and all my children, as well as my grandchildren. While your brother Aranarth has become leader of a secretive and hidden people, I have dwelt mostly alone for this second half of my life. Alone I say, for while the Elven folk here are good and kindly in their way, they are not like us. Especially in these waning years of mine, they little know how to speak to me. Oft times of late I come upon some small group in the Hall of Fire, and they cease their talking and their fair laughter, in which I had so desired to share, and turn to me a grave look or a faint smile… and I feel their pity and perhaps condescension… and then I wish no more for their company, for it is now but a constant reminder that only I age among the ageless. So I spend my time alone; taking short walks, eating what little I desire, resting much beside the warm fire with a hot drink and a thick blanket.

Neither of your grandmothers lived many more years after my arrival here. But you know that well. After their passing I have been so much more alone, for even the Lady Galadriel, who was so gracious to me, departed but a few years after I came. Elrond’s wife and daughter spend much time away from here now, staying with her in Lorien. I rejoiced when Aranarth came with his new bride, swollen with child, for I thought that they would dwell here with me. But the time of their stay was all too short – and even that was more than forty years ago. I wept so when they left me. I had so wanted to hold court as a Queen, while my son surveyed the fair ladies of the land who attended me, that I might watch his choosing and advise him therein. But I knew her not before we met here at Rivendell, when she was already his wife. And I rejoiced to see another grandchild… the first child born to a son of Arvedui, but he was removed from my life all too soon, and I was once again all alone. For alas, Imladris, which was my paradise, has become also my prison.

So much has changed in this world since I first came to the North. Arthedain is no more, and yet Angmar is crushed as well. News travels much slower of late, but have you heard that Gondor has yet no king and that Mardil the Steward still holds power? Foolish Earnur could not resist his pride, but answered the challenge of Angmar’s old sorcerer-king. But even that was several years ago, and you must surely know it. Of late, Gandalf comes much to meet with Elrond, and sometimes also comes that other one, Curunir, as well as Lady Galadriel… and they meet together with others of note and take counsel together. They talk much of Mirkwood, that portion nearest Gladden, where fell your father’s ancestor Isildur. Ever are their brows knit and their voices hushed, but I hear just a bit now and again… for perhaps they think too little of my hearing that remains.

But at least your nephew Arahael is grown into a good young man, as well as his brothers. I see even them too little though. Perhaps five years since I saw Arahael, but eight or more since I saw his father Aranarth. How are your sisters and their families? Is there any more word of your brothers Aramir or Estelmir? Perhaps they are still well, for many of our people disappear for long into the wild and yet return safely one day. I would that we could all be together just once yet again, that I may see you all for one last time, and that we might tell stories and sing the old songs, but I fear that time will not permit it. I think that I shall have failed by the time this message even reaches you. Send word then to my son, for I have no means to contact him directly, for Elrond’s sons are away and my own messenger knows not how to find him. He can find you at least, and I trust that you will know how to send word on to Aranarth. Let him know that the time has come to see his mother off.

Oh, how I miss you all, my children. How I miss my mother and father and brothers. I miss so much my husband, the Last King, his arms and his eyes, and the years we shared together at Fornost. I strangely miss my old home of Minas Anor, which they now re-name as Minas Tirith. How I miss the White Tree!

Oh, I miss also the vigor of my youth and the cause to hope for a better future, that I might one day long to see. And yet, given the choice, even knowing now how all was to pass, still would I have assented, and gone yet again with Arvedui into the North. It is now time to go to him again, and I have kept him waiting long.

All my blessings I wish upon you and your children, and your brothers and sisters and their children as well. Watch over your children and bid the others do likewise. May peace enshroud you and may joy be your constant companion.

Your mother,

Firiel

[Valandil]

This concludes my translation of the 'Letters of Firiel'

I welcome any further comments, and look forward to reading other letters which may be found and translated.

[Elanor the Fair]

What a sad letter!! Firiel started her correspondence with such hope - and ends it with such sorrow and loneliness.

Thanks for the ending of the tale, Valandil. The letters were great!

[Earniel]

A fitting letter to conclude FÃ*riel's letters! They were all a marvelous read.

I do wonder whether Aranarth was in time to see his old mother off.

[Valandil]

Yes it was sad... made it a bit hard to finish. In some ways though, it makes me think of the plight of many elderly today. For most of history, they have stayed with their families. In recent times though, they're put away in a nursing home, often left alone and basically just wait to die. Firiel was sort of a proto-type of that... although we wouldn't normally think of Rivendell as a nursing home, it became one for her.

It makes me think of the song Bilbo sings in 'The Ring Goes South' (for Bilbo had a similar time in his life, though not for so many years):

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen,
Of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were,
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen:
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago,
And people who shall see a world
That I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
Of times that were before,
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door.

Love an older person who's in your life today!

[Beruthiel's cat]

You've written a lovely and interesting series of letters, Val, and I've enjoyed reading them. This last letter was particularly poignant and you've done a wonderful job shedding light on a "forgotten" period of the history of Middle Earth. Congratulations on a job well done. I hope you decide to write more!

[Olmer]

Originally Posted by Beruthiel's cat

I hope you decide to write more!

An I hope you will be able to print it some day. I 'll be among the first buyers.
Darn stupidity of copyright law is robbing people of so many exiting and talanted stories as such!

[Valandil]

Originally Posted by Olmer

An I hope you will be able to print it some day. I 'll be among the first buyers.
Darn stupidity of copyright law is robbing people of so many exiting and talanted stories as such!

Why thank you Olmer.

I DO understand the need for copyright laws though... but maybe I can either wait until they expire, work out a deal to publish with permission (if anything I write is really that good) - or just publish a 'vanity run' someday of a few hundred copies for limited distribution to friends and interested acquaintances.

[Valandil]

Originally Posted by Eärniel

A fitting letter to conclude FÃ*riel's letters! They were all a marvelous read.

Thank you!

Originally Posted by Eärniel

I do wonder whether Aranarth was in time to see his old mother off.

Well, who knows? Maybe with the foresight of his people (and esp if he had the timeliness of Gandalf), maybe he did indeed.

[BeardofPants]

Karl, I'm wondering, do you have this in word document format? If so, could you email it to me?

[Valandil]

Originally Posted by BeardofPants

Karl, I'm wondering, do you have this in word document format? If so, could you email it to me?

Yes - just PM me your email. I have the document at home, so I can't send it right now.

I'm willing to send this to others as well. Just promise you won't try to pass it off as your own work. Also, if anyone else would ask, I'd hope you're really serious about reading them. The total work is 42 pages long.

EDIT: psst! you're giving away my secret identity! please just call me 'Valandil' or 'Val'!!

SECOND EDIT: I MIGHT want to touch up a thing or two... a couple items in response to some good comments I've received (thank you Gaffer! ) as well as a thing or two I wanted to modify. I'll try to take care of it right away though.

[Earniel]

Originally Posted by Valandil

Well, who knows? Maybe with the foresight of his people (and esp if he had the timeliness of Gandalf), maybe he did indeed.

So the bundle of letters you found has all been translated? No other letters from FÃ*riel's family among them?

[Valandil]

Originally Posted by Eärniel

So the bundle of letters you found has all been translated? No other letters from FÃ*riel's family among them?

I'd have to dig back into that trunk to see... or would YOU like to look?