Chapter Six
The centuries of its conflict with Angmar left all of Arnor complete is devastation. The great cities, fortresses and towers of the realm were left to ruin. Those structures, standing for thousands of years, began to crumble and disappear. Much of Arthedain’s population had perished in the culmination of the war, with those who survived being scattered and afraid. The Norbury of the Kings, or what remained of that great city, was abandoned. The Witch-king of Angmar may have been defeated, his armies completely annihilated, but in many ways he was victorious. For hundreds of years it had been his dark and unyielding desire to see Arnor destroyed. Whilst he met his end in the process, he had succeeded in doing so.
The Hobbits of the Shire endured the onslaught of Angmar. After the fall of the Witch-king, those who had hid underground surfaced once more. The green and fertile land that they called home, the Shire, lay in blackened ruin. The farms had been burned and livestock slaughtered. Although their country had been desolated by fire and blood, those who survived considered themselves fortunate. Crops could be sown once more and homes could be rebuilt. For a time the hobbits mourned the death of their lost kin, and also for Arvedui the Last King. But they came to realise that this was not the time for grief, for their country was in desperate need of restoration. Between 375 and 379, the survivors worked together to rebuild the Shire. Soon enough, the land was green once more. In time they would come to forget the dark days of Angmar’s tyranny, being mirthful as they were before the war. The only reminder of such times was the towers and fortresses of Arthedain, which still scatter the landscape today.
But the absence of a King in Norbury troubled the Shire. For many centuries they had taken the protection of the King for granted, having been untroubled by the dangers of the outside world for so long. They looked at the days before Angmar’s invasion with nostalgia, for they had always slept soundly with the knowledge that the King, though many miles away, would always keep them safe. This security and comfort was now gone. Although Angmar was defeated, fell creatures still stalked the borders. The wights of the Barrow-downs, found close to the Brandywine River, had survived their master’s downfall. In the aftermath of Angmar’s defeat, as they rebuilt their homeland, the hobbits waited for the royal heralds to arrive with news of the King’s return. The son of King Arvedui, Prince Aranarth, had survived the war. By all rights, the crown of all Arnor should have been his.
But Aranarth looked upon the kingdom of his father with sorrow. The realms of Arnor lay in ruin, with only a number of scattered survivors. A king without a kingdom is no king at all. When the throne was offered to him, he resolved not to claim it. In doing so, the Kingdom of Arthedain was dissolved. The prospect of a reunited Arnor was diminished. Aranarth instead declared himself Chieftain of the Dúnedain, leading the remnants of Arnor’s people as wanderers and protectors of the former kingdom. They dwelled not in great castles or cities, but in the Wild. The surviving regions, which once formed part of Arthedain, were released from their ancient oaths of fealty to Norbury.
In 379, Aranarth the Chieftain came to the Brandywine Bridge. To those who greeted him, he bid that the Shire elect its own leader in place of the King. Although freed from their loyalty to Aranarth, the Shire persisted in considered him their sovereign. Thus, they willingly executed his bidding by creating the office of Thain – the chieftain of the Shire - in the King’s absence. Aranarth had granted the Shire the thainship, but had left it to them to elect its holder. It was considered a royal and sacred gift, from he who they still deemed as their rightful liege, which emulated the ancient principles of kingship. The very first Shire-moot gathered and elected Bucca of the Marish as Thain of the Shire. The thainship was created to keep the Shire in such order that the King of Arthedain had expected from his subjects. Its role was not to rule, but rather to "hold the authority" of the kings of old, until such times were restored. Today, still, the Thain of Tuckborough serves as a permanent reminder of these forgotten times. The true origin of the thainship is grounded in the loss of kingship.
Despite Aranarth’s relinquishment of his crown and dissolution of Arthedain, the old oaths of fealty, first sworn by Marcho and Blanco, and subsequently renewed upon the ascension of each new king, have never been forsaken. This ancient loyalty, although forgotten by most, has endured the centuries. Today it only exists in the oldest scrolls in the oldest libraries. The Lost Realm seems to become all the more lost with each century that passes, but still the Shire waits; for when the King comes back…
