At the turn of the millennium, when the whereabouts of the One Ring were not yet made known, and the great deeds of the War of the Ring were not yet come to pass, there happened a chance meeting between Eldar and Edain in the desolate land of Eregion.
This tale concerns said meeting, of where we are told of the Elf-maid Losseth and the young ranger Gelldûr the Eagle-Watcher, and their eventual quest to scale the Misty Mountains and catch sight of the great eagles of Manwë.
Chapter I
A Chance Meeting in Hollin
T.A. 2993
The elf-maiden Losseth came down the side of the Redhorn at the break of dawn. The journey from the mountains had been uneventful and, to the elleth, more akin to a nightly stroll through the snow. Still, she had managed to gather valuable information on the lay of the passes, and the weather had treated her fairly for most of her scouting trip. Now her feet were bearing her down the sloping hills with a steady pace, and into the desolate lands of Eregion, called Hollin for its holly trees that grew among the fabled Elvish ruins.
Losseth, as the elf-maiden was called, was clad in white and brown, a hood covering her head. From what little could be seen of her face, she had sun-touched skin and pale, silvery eyes that swept across the untamed landscape with a cold alertness. No jewels nor silverwork did she bear openly, and the weapons she carried were sheathed and hidden away behind her broad stature; Only the bow on her back remained visible, a curved pole of birch tied at the ends with a firm string.
Moments passed as the elleth trekked down next to the walls of a steep cliff. For Losseth, it was like any other return journey from the peaks of the Hithaeglir. Her heart ached as snow turned into wet grass, but still she appreciated the sight of the red holly trees, and savoured the smell of blooming flowers. She paused under the shade of a tree, regarding the red-tinged canopy vigilantly, and it was then that Losseth first beheld the silhouette of a cloaked stranger dwelling under a pair of trees.
With keen eyes, she saw first a torn, dusty cloak, and ragged brown boots. Whoever the stranger was, his face was mostly hidden from her by the way his hood fell over his head, but Losseth saw that he had dark hair around his mouth and chin. He was tall, taller than what she was told was normal for men, and in his bearing the elleth was reminded more of a gallant young noble. The man bent over the remnants of a campfire, and her eyes fell onto the dull gleam of a silver brooch shaped like a star, it's seven points extending outwards from his heart.
A man of the north. Losseth mused. She was not unfamiliar with the sight of a ranger, as she had seen many come and go under the boughs of Imladris, and it was customary for the Chieftains of the Dúnedain to be raised in secrecy under the care of Lord Elrond. When Losseth was brought into the world, Isildur's Heir then had been Aranarth, son of the last king of Arnor, Arvedui. After his death came his son Arahael, and then his grandson Aranuir, who was Chieftain when she first began her training under Lord Brenedir. By the time the Watchful Peace had ended, the line of Chieftains had grown to seven, and Arahad son of Araglas held domain over the remaining Dúnedain.
Yet even as she thought back to the days of the Watchful Peace, Losseth's gaze hardened, and she stayed by the tree in her caution, unwilling to reveal herself to the ranger just yet. She raised her bow from her back and nooked an arrow, letting it fly loose and strike the bark of the tree next to him.
The man sprang up in alarm, drawing his sword. Losseth watched as he turned around to inspect the arrow that she had shot, and she caught a glimpse of weary grey eyes turning their gaze to the shaft stuck in the bark.
The elleth took a green cloak out of her pack and draped it over her shoulders, walking across the open plain with her head bowed low. To the eyes of a lesser man, the movement of her figure would appear akin to the dancing of grass blades in the wind, but she loathed to traverse the ground so out in the open; She felt naked without the presence of trees.
At last, she reached the two red holly trees and approached the ranger. With soft tones she spoke, "Far have ye come, stranger. The road is not kind to the lone wolf who treads upon it."
The stranger turned. Losseth was greeted by the sight of a man neither young nor old, proud of bearing and yet weary from travel.
"I know this land. Who are my friends, who are my foes." The man said in Sindarin. His eyes swept across her attire and beheld the piercing silver that stared back at him from the confines of her hood. He sheathed his sword. The ranger had already loosened the arrow from the bark and extended it towards her.
The elleth took the arrow and bowed graciously, "Thank you. I apologize for the caution, but the Enemy whom we both share is wont to deceive in the guise of fair and beautiful forms –" Her hand stretched out towards the desolate landscape "– This land is proof of that."
"So it is." The ranger observed, lowering his hood. Losseth saw that even for a Dúnadan of the North, this man was but a youthful sapling, a fair-faced youngling who was still full of curiosity and enthusiasm compared to his older kin. He had jet black hair, and the grey eyes she had caught a glimpse of earlier were filled with a sense of wonder at her appearance.
The man introduced himself, "I am Gelldûr, as my kin call me."
Losseth replied, "And I am Losseth, as they have come to name me in Imladris." She did not dare to lower her hood yet.
The ranger observed her studiously for a moment before suddenly looking past her at the snow-capped peaks, "You came down the mountains?"
"Aye. ‘Tis where I was assigned to scout the mountain passes. So have I done for half a millennia by the reckoning of men." She answered, eyeing the ranger. His eyes lit up at her reply, though his voice remained respectfully inquisitive.
"Then it is not without cause that you are among those few deployed there, I believe that you must be few assigned to such a treacherous route. What of this venture will you report?"
Losseth pursed her lips. Her mind went back to the clouded, overcast days in which she had toiled by the snow, tracking the movements of the Enemy, "That the winds of the Misty Mountains blow ever-tirelessly, and the flickers of light that emerge from the holes leading to Goblin-Town are ever present. The foul Yrch who make their abode in the caverns below surface only when the sky is overcast, for it is the glare of the sun they hate most."
She sighed as she remembered the flow of black masses emerging from one of the rear-entrances high up in the northern High Pass, "I cannot say whether they are currently working towards a common goal, but they are merciless as ever when it comes to hunting and killing. Perhaps they simply wait, lying in the darkness until they are given orders by their master."
"Many of them may still come down and south from the mountains, my kinsfolk will not permit them to reach so far as to ford the rivers. That is what I've come here for two past springs, the snows hamper them worse than it does Men, choked into their holes. But in the first melt they may begin to emerge." The ranger said quietly. His eyes flicked up to the peak of the Caradhas with what Losseth thought was wariness.
Losseth nodded, pleased by the ranger's vigilance. She remained quiet as he continued and told her about how he had spent two weeks wandering hither. It was not something he was dissatisfied for, he said. Losseth saw him curl his lip and place his hands on the pommel of his sword.
Her eyes went to the disassembled campfire behind Gelldûr and she wondered where the man's path was going to go next. The fire had long been stomped out, and the rocks he had used to build the fire had been tossed into the ground. The floor was strewn with remnants of dirt and charred bark, "Tidings not unwelcome, I deem. It is good to know that the watchful eyes of the North remain ever vigilant to hamper the Eye where it may. Tell me, whence do you intend to tread now? I see that you make ready to leave these forsaken lands."
That was when the ranger had told her that he had intended to make for the west, wishing to aid his brothers by the river. Losseth offered him shelter by the newly reclaimed camp of Echad Eregion, and he had graciously accepted, smiling faintly when she had dryly mentioned that a pincushion would not be the ideal companion. Soon after, when the last signs of camp had been cleared out and hidden, the two set off under the starlight, following the cliff-walls deeper into Hollin.
OOC: Comments, questions and critique are more than welcome.
