Leothross slowed his steed to a walk as the road wound out of the gorges and the Last Homely House came into view. He had visited the halls of Imladris several times already in the last few months, but no matter how many times he visited, he could not help but catch his breath at the sight. The night was already deepening, but it no longer held the same fear as it had in the canyons of the Trollshaws. The rhythmic sound of the horse’s hoofs on the stone path faded away, and he lost himself in the pristine beauty of this land. He forgot the burden that had brought him here in the first place, and the journey that he must soon take. He even, to his great surprise, found himself smiling, as he crossed the graceful bridges and road up to the main hall.
Still, the ride had been long even for a steed born out of one of the best bloodlines Bree had to offer. Leothross could feel the weariness as he finally stepped through the doors. If the outside had been perfect, than the inside appeared to be Valinor itself. It was as if all the ancient tales of elves and glory had come to life again. This was not too far from the truth, considering that the Lord Elrond had indeed fought against Sauron in the last age. Leothross shook his head again at the wonderment of it all; he could still not comprehend a life spanning over three millennia. But the next moment, he realized in all of this finery he must seem dreadfully out of place. He attempted, with only partial success, to dust the mix of dust and horse hair from his robe. He sighed, it would have to be enough.
Then a familiar voice hailed him, “Mae govannen, Leothross!”
“Eruthaiwen? Ah, mae govannen.”
She smiled warmly, as they met in the middle of the great courtyard, “What brings you so far from Hookworth? I had not expected to find anyone from the Order here.”
“Indeed! Neither had I, to be honest. Though,” he nodded toward the books that she held in her arms, “it would appear we come searching for similar things.”
“Angmar, I would assume? Because of your journey?”
Leothross was a little taken aback, he had not realized anyone else had known. Granted, he had told Zargodon. Word must have traveled fast. He responded, “You’ve heard then? Well, it is true. I have actually been here several times already. But, since I had the opportunity, I had to look one more time. I can’t afford to miss anything not with…” He trailed off, rather than say the name. Though he was here to study it, he still did not want to think of it; it was out of place in this place.
“Perhaps I can be of help. I have studied here for 300 years – I know Elrond’s library as if it were my home.”
Leothross pushed back his brimmed hat, and his eyes brightened with interest.
She continued, offering him one of the books she held, “Have you seen this one? It is not specifically about Angmar, but there are a few chapters on it with information not found in the others. I have the pages bookmarked.”
“I don’t think so. It doesn’t look familiar.” He began to flip through the pages gently.
“There are many hidden treasures where you do not think to look.” She looked concerned as she continued, “Though, the word treasure can hardly be applied to anything pertaining to that place. You will not be dissuaded from going? There is only death in Angmar: death, and things worse than death.”
Leothross’ response was quiet, “It is not treasure that I seek there anyway.”
“Seargildin told me. You seek the past – your past. But is the past so important that you would risk your future for it?” She looked thoughtfully at the other book in her arms, and ran her finger over the ribbon that marked her place in it.
Leothross smiled at thought of it. His beard had long ago lost any color but grey, and the furrows that crossed his forehead and cheeks bespoke years of experience already. He replied lightly, “Look at me. I do not have a great future to look forward to. A few decades if I am lucky. The pride of men is in their progeny, and the works of their hands. And both are so much more precious for it being so short.”
“I suppose you are right. I think like an elf. A few short years have little meaning, but to men I can see that they have great value. I suppose that makes the decision easier.”
“Yes… It is something I must do.”
She chuckled, “I speak of my own decision, for it seems yours was set from the start.”
“Your decision?”
“Seargildin told me of your quest and of his wish to accompany you. He asked if I would as well. I will, and will help in whatever way I can, I just… Angmar…” She trailed off, but made a motion for him to follow. They headed toward the back of the hall, and she said, “The library is only one room, grand at that; but there is only one lace I always go to read. I find it calming.” They left the hall through a back door and stood on a veranda overlooking a beautiful waterfall. The water sprayed as it crashed over the rocks, and glistened in the moon light. Somewhere in valley a curlew sang its gentle note into the night. Eruthaiwen seemed to draw peace from the sound of the waterfall, and the sound of the night.
Leothross breathed the fresh air, gratefully, but still pondered her last words, “Lady, I … I could not ask any to come with me. I did not even ask Zargodon. It is something that I brought on myself. I cannot believe I am allowing Mariym to come.”
“I know. But Seargildin felt he needed to, as do I. To go alone, or with little company, would mean certain death; of that I am sure. I would not have any of you harmed on account of my own fear of that place.”
“Yes. Though, a few can stay hidden. With more, we will have to be even more than careful.”
“I would imagine so. I am not experienced in these matters, but I can see the wisdom of your words. Even so, I would not abandon this company, for I have more than one other reason for joining you.”
Leothross sighed, and turned to lean against the stone railing that looked over the waterfall. He laid his hat on it, and ran his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. If he was honest with himself, he would love it if they were to come. But, what if something went wrong? This was not their burden to bear. But Seargildin, whom he called, with the rest of men, Zargodon, was no scholar. He knew he could handle himself, and more. Eruthaiwen’s voice again broke his reverie.
“Who is Mariym?”
“Mariym is a young hunter from Bree. We … have become fast friends. She insists on coming. M’lady, if you are determined, and Zargodon is joining us, I think we can do this.”
She chuckled softly, “If only that waylaid my fears. If only it were anywhere but Angmar. I would feel better if you said you were traveling to the ice bay of Forochel, or deep into the deserts of Harad, even to the edge of that dark land it borders, but Angmar…”
She looked off toward the waterfall beside him, “I have the same fear of that place as a child does of darkness. She cannot name the terror that lurks there, but the fear is still there. Perhaps m fears are as insubstantial as the child’s shadows. I need to dispel the nightmare, which is one of the reasons I need to go with you.”
“I fear that your fears are far too well placed. The child fears the dark because it is unknown. Angmar,” he says in voice scarcely above a whisper, “may be unknown to us now. But its past is stained with too much evil for there to be any doubt about what could be there. I too have wished countless times that it was elsewhere that I was traveling.”
She again fingers the ribbon in her book, “But this seems something… more, or different; intangible. See here. This ribbon is mine. I found it in this book, but cannot remember placing it there. I wonder how long ago I must have left it there to have forgotten its placing, or perhaps I simply chose not to think on it because of its subject.”
Leothross turned to face her, looking at the ribbon she touched. He spoke with some apprehension, “It is not like an elf to forget. What does it mean? You have studied this before?”
“Possibly. It was left in a section concerning a particular interest of mine: language. It was in a chapter concerning the black speech and how the Witch King’s dark language influenced the language of his followers. All of this was in a section about the dark, tainted magics of Angmar.”
A thought immediately sprang to his mind. Magic of Angmar? Could it be related to … the other piece of the puzzle that he sought? Trying to hide his sudden interest, while still trying to get a good look at the book, he replied, “Wow. That could be a good subject to be aware of, but a dark study, indeed.”
Eruthaiwen nodded, placing the book behind her, as if she did not even want to look at it, “It is an unsavory topic to say the least; it is no wonder little is known of it, and even less is written.”
“Do you... do you think that such things are still holding sway there?”
She stared into the floor, gripping a locket of hers tightly, “I know not. Do you suspect it in the case of your memory?”
“It would explain a few things.”
“It would, though I pray dearly that it is not so.” She leaned back into the stone, soaking in the peace of land and its sounds again.
“Would it be so bad though? If it is mage, a curse or something, it could be broken, right? And I would no longer have to wonder what happened to it. Otherwise, I must keep searching.”
“And yet if it were some other thing that brought on your amnesia, would that not be better than delving into that darkness and perceiving that there is some taint in your mind? Perhaps you are right, but I could never wish such a fate upon myself. I would rather leave those memories behind, but then again, I have a great many more ahead of me.”
He sighed, thinking again of the day he had awoken, the tight spots he had gotten himself into since then, and then the night up on the Bree-fields just a fortnight ago. There were things he needed to know, it was certain. “Perhaps. But if there is a taint – I must know. I must…”
“Then I shall help however I can.”
“Thank you,” he said with a tired smile.
She placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, before laughing as only an elf can, “I cannot see you in such turmoil. Is it childish of me to hope that I can eliminate despair and suffering?”
“Childish? I don’t think so. Over optimistic? Perhaps. But that never stopped me either!”
“That’s who I have always been.”
“Well, we all have to have something great to aim for.”
“True. You seek your memories, and I seek, well, only to help as many as possible. We are the same in that respect, I see.”
“Yes we are.”
The night was beginning to wane before they had finished speaking. Leothross grumbled as he pushed himself out of his leaning position, snatching his hat up as he did.
“Here,” Eruthaiwen offered the other book as well, “Take this too, if you wish. I’ve read it through, apparently for the second time. I have no more to gain from it. Perhaps you will find something of use to you.”
He took it gingerly, almost fearfully or reverently, “Thank you. I do hope it can shed some light. You have already been of so much help.”
“I am glad to be of service in any way I can. What little knowledge I have is available, should any call on it. There is just so much more to learn.”
“Imagine how I feel! Your knowledge is great compared to mine, and I am grateful to learn from it. Yours, and that of those who were kind enough to record their knowledge to pass down. I shall see you back in Bree. We will leave soon.”
“Until next we meet.”
“Until then.”
