A candle sputtered fretfully in the drafty air, casting a flickering circle of light on the desk. Outside, rain beat steadily upon the windowpanes, which were shut tight and curtained against the weather. Uilossiel frowned, got up from her seat before the desk, and shut her door. Lighting another candle, she placed it opposite the first, so that more of the desk was illuminated, and returned to her studies.
A large leather-bound tome lay before her, surrounded by several other volumes. A small notebook and a roll of parchment sat near an inkwell, close to her right hand. She furrowed her brow and began to peruse the large book once more.
Annals of the Third Age was inscribed on the spine of the large tome in intricate gilt letters, though this was merely one volume among many of that record. There was a dry sound of pages turning, and then silence once more as she hastily scanned the page until she found what she was seeking.
Year 1050 - A shadow falls upon Eryn Lasgalen, and foul creatures begin to multiply near Dol Guldur.
She considered for a moment. According to the records of the Age, Dol Guldur - the Hill of Sorcery - had once been a fair stronghold of Thranduil's people. In its day, it was called Amon Lanc, and a great fortress stood atop the hill, which jutted out from the miles of forest around it. Yet some time before Year 1050 of the Third Age, Thranduil and his people had forsaken their stronghold; and it was now occupied by a nameless power - some force of darkness too strong for the Nandor and Sindar of his people to overcome. Now all of Vanimar was preparing to send a contingent of warriors to the aid of Lórien against Dol Guldur, and Uilossiel felt compelled to seek out any knowledge she could of their foe.
Turning back several pages in her own notebook, Uilossiel frowned for a moment and scribbled some more notes in the margin. Her gaze flew to the handwriting on the page, where she had taken down some notes in a clear, precise script.
On the People of the Greenwood
In the early Second Age, Oropher, formerly of Doriath, established a kingdom in Eryn Lasgalen, Greenwood the Great. It seems that he sought to imitate the realm of Thingol in both appearance and politics, for the Eldar of Eryn Lasgalen had few dealings with either their kinsmen in Lothlórien, or their more distant kin in Imladris and Mithlond. When Oropher fell in the Battle of the Last Alliance (S.A. 3441), his son Thranduil succeeded him as king.
Those who live in that land are mostly of the kindred of the Avari and Nandor. Their speech is sundered from those of the Eldar who passed West over the Hithaeglir. Nonetheless, the royal family is of the Sindar of Doriath, and there are few (if any) Noldor in their midst. In the Second Age, as the Noldor of Eregion began to collaborate with the Naugrim of Moria, their presence was felt even in the Dimrill Dale and Lothlórien. Oropher was displeased at the encroaching influence of the Noldor and this may have been one of the reasons which led him to remove from Amon Lanc and establish his halls in the hills to the north, beside the Forest River, a tributary of the Celduin.
There were many other paragraphs upon the page, detailing the customs, political habits, and history of the Woodland Folk, but she skimmed them quickly, looking for any mention of Dol Guldur in her notes. She found nothing save a brief few sentences saying that it was currently inhabited by some servant of evil, and that its influence had corrupted the forest around it.
She remembered her stay in Lórien; how the sentries had whispered of the darkness gathering to the East, across the Anduin. And indeed, on a clear day one could look eastward across the Great River and see the hill of Dol Guldur looming distantly, shrouded in gloaming and darkness. That had been many yéni ago; indeed it was more than a thousand years of the sun since she had walked in that land. But then the power of the Lady of Lórien had held the encroaching darkness at bay. And while a shadow had fallen on Eryn Lasgalen, which some now called Taur-e-Ndaedelos, the Forest of Terrible Fear, the land of Lórien had remained unblemished. Those were the days when the threat of Angmar had loomed great and terrible in the West, and all eyes and hearts were turned in that direction as the Eldar of Imladris and Mithlond made war against the hosts of the Witch-King. So the darkness to the East had slumbered, overshadowed by a more pressing threat to the West.
Angmar had long been vanquished, but now her kinsmen in Lórien were calling for aid against the evil spreading from Dol Guldur. She shuddered, not wanting to consider what power lay hidden in that fortress, that it could endure unchallenged and undiminished in malice even after the fall of Angmar.
But what could a scholar such as she do to aid them? Lord Anglachelm had been plain in saying that they were indeed gearing for war in the East. Such a goal required action, not merely words; it meant looking to the present rather than the past. How she wished to be able to do something useful. Her brother Tancamir was away scouting the passes of the Hithaeglir with Nuldafairë and the Order of the Arrow, and the Lord Ambassador was leading a contingent westwards to the lands of the Naugrim, in order to barter for iron and steel.
With a sigh, she blew on the ink to dry it, and closed the notebook. There would be small profit in only reading of the threat to the East, and remaining idle otherwise. Wearily she gathered up the books and shifted them to one side of the desk. There would be time to return them to the library on the morrow. Yawning, she bent over to blow out one candle when a worn parchment caught her eye. It was a list of some herbs Tinwen had requisitioned for the healers in Imladris, and Uilossiel had kept it for its interesting notes on the different properties of said herbs in curing all manners of poison. From all accounts of the woods east of the Anduin, venomous creatures of all kinds lurked there, and it would be an advantage to have adequate supplies prepared. Perhaps she would make a better study of the list, and whatever books could be found in the library, and consult with Lord Laurelindo about which herbs and medicines to prepare for the journey East. She was no healer, but knew something about identifying plants thanks to the efforts of her younger sister Tinwen and her mother.
The drumming of the rain against the windowpanes had not ceased, but it no longer weighed upon her spirits as she stood up and made her way to the bedside. On the morrow she would rise and seek Tinwen's advice, for she had learned much of the healing of poisons from the people of the Golden Wood. Drawing the curtains tighter against the windows, she smiled to herself. Nuldafairë would not find her idle on his return to Imladris.
