The Followers (Please see the Word Aside)

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Postby Me-elf » Tue Sep 16, 2003 7:54 pm

Gwathrenethir Nirethir stood silently on a streetcorner in Imladris. Every so often an Elf clad in the pale hues of Elrond's city would pass by, but they were few, and those who did were sullen of face, for they felt it. Every Elf in all of Eä had felt it since the beginning of the Fourth Age of the Sun.<BR><BR>The End was near.<BR><BR>Gwathrenethir pulled her vibrant black and silver wings around her against the cool evening air, indeed, even against the dark, infinite shadows that had begun to grow long in the valley of Rivendell. Only her silver eyes were visible to Elves outside of her own mind and body, for the rest was cloaked by her wings. Her heart, ever-young, burned with fear and excitement at the days to come; she needed only the others promised her, the other Elves who had recieved the vision of the White King of Eä.<BR>He had come to her on an Elven dream-path, alight with glory and power. She had, in the dream, cowered before him in reverence to his awesome might. He spoke to her in a roaring, thundering voice:<BR><BR>"The time draweth near. Evil arises. Thou shalt go Imladris, Gwathrenethir Nirethir. There thou shalt meet others whom I have appointed to journey with thee to Valinor. If thou shouldst reach it before the End of Days, thou mayest live in peace and happiness forevermore. If thou shouldst disobey me, or fail to reach the Last Haven, thine will be no less a fate than that of Númenor. I, Eru, have spoken."<BR><BR>And he was gone.<BR><BR>Now Gwathrenethir had been promised by Neinna that when the End did come, she would be allowed return passage to Valinor, and would no longer be stuck on the Eru-forsaken rock that the inhabitants called Middle-earth. Men, Dwarves, Orcs, evil all. The Elf filled with hatred, having had her fill of evil. She would return to Alqualondë and rebuild it in the name of her father...and the Swan. <BR>The name was sweet upon her tongue and in her hidden mind. Thirgil...Thirgil Tar-Alquandil.<BR>In the common tongue it meant RiverStar High-Swan Lover. She had not forgotten him in all those thousands of long years since his death. Those years were nearing their twenty-five thousand mark. Her heart beat faster at the prospect that she may yet see him again outside of the dank halls of Mandos. <BR><BR>The entire ordeal had an appealing romance about it. She, a Princess, her lover, a Knight. The Vala of Death had removed the memory of Thirgil Tar-Alquandil out of the annals of Eä, and she, desolate, had gone in search of Námo's sister, in hope that she might appeal to her brother and Thirgil would be sent back. Mandos had said no, and Gwathrenethir could do nothing to appease his hardened heart. Nienna took Gwathrenethir as her follower, and tought the Princess the beauty of a steadfast spirit, and the kindness of sympathy. She had then sent Gwathrenethir to Gondolin in Middle-earth that the Elf might do good and bring hope to Middle-earth in the prime of its life. She changed her name from Gwathrenethir Aeronhwest to Gwathrenethir Nirethir, and departed the Valinorian shores, but the trials of Middle-earth had only scarred her more. <BR><BR>Now, as she thought these things, tears filled her eyes and her heart ached for the comforts of the Sea and the River of her birth, the city her father had helped to build, the Knight that had asked for her hand. She lowered her wings and cast them about her shoulders in a cloak-like manner, glancing with her penetrating gaze up and down the street.<BR><BR>An Elf she had not noticed before now stood across from her and a little way down the avenue. Slowly, naturally, Gwathrenethir ceased to lean against the wall and began strolling beneath the eaves and balconies toward the hooded figure. Upon one of the stone bridges that spanned the path was a pair of Elves, wrapped in each other's company so completely it made Gwathrenethir sick to watch. Instead she devoted all her attention to the Elf. The single Elf on the same street which she had been told to go to in preparation for her journey. Perhaps one of the others promised to her by Eru. The figure turned to her and crossed the street with speed. Ruffling her feathers, lest the Elf be hostile, Gwathrenethir braced herself for words from the stranger's mouth...
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Postby MeganBaggins » Fri Sep 19, 2003 10:27 pm

<i>Elemmírë shivered against the resounding chill that was now laid heavily upon her soul.<BR>Not more than an hour ago, she had woken from a dream, which had filled her both with awe and fear. <BR>She had seen and been spoken to by the creator...Eru himself.<BR>And now, try as she may, serenity would not come again to her weary mind. Letting out a submissive sigh, she gave into the fact that the rapidly approaching night would hold no rest for her until she had found what she was looking for, something unknown, yet.... recognizable. Throwing her Father’s old dark green cloak over her, she slipped out of her room in the house of Elrond and began a quiet walk down the streets and passageways of Imladris...bound for anywhere...anywhere where she could calm this cold restlessness within her. <BR><BR>As she walked her mind wandered to a choice that soon needed to be made, a choice that would direct her life’s path drastically. Valinor. Long she had pondered this frightening question... whether to leave over the sea, bound for the Blessed realm, or stay in the home she loved. Her Mother’s blood called to her about the sea, and what lay beyond, but her Father’s blood spoke just as strongly to her of the silent and beautiful refuge of the forests of Middle earth. And so she was torn between two essential sides of her being...she would never be able to silence either one, no matter what decision she made, one side of her would always regret it. Would peace ever be hers to hold? <BR><BR>She stopped her wandering for a moment to look out across the sunset bathed valley. A now eternal autumn had settled upon Rivendell, as though to signal the waning of the time of the elves. <BR><BR>The vision of the valley only made her sad so she hastily moved on down the street.<BR><BR>Suddenly, when she had only walked a few yards further, she was struck with the odd feeling that the spot where she was standing was where she needed to be. So she halted, not that she had a choice for it seemed as though she could go no further even if she tried.<BR>She had not been standing there long when she saw a figure approaching her slowly. She had decided to wait for the shadow to speak to her when a voice inside her head whispered to her.</i> <BR><BR> “Speak to her...she is one, like you, whom I have chosen.”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë, no longer unsure, quickly approached the figure.</i><BR><BR>“You have been spoke to and chosen by Eru as well, I can feel it.”<BR>
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Postby Me-elf » Sat Sep 20, 2003 2:22 pm

Gwathrenethir's feathers settled and lay smooth at these words. <BR>"Perception is strong within you. I am Gwathrenethir Nirethir, former Princess of Alqualondë. Are there others with you?" asked the darker Elf.<BR>"There are none. I have arrived with no guide but the presence of Eru inside me," said the cloaked figure.<BR>Gwathrenethir nodded, and looked up and down the street.<BR>"There are more close by, I can sense their presence. We will wait for them, they will find us."<BR>Gwathrenethir and the other Elf walked to the edge of the narrow street and took up residence against the smooth stone walls. The night came hurriedly on, and soon a lantern or two were lit in the windows around them, casting a warm candle-glow on the street. The cloaked Elf's face remained hidden beneath her hood, but Gwathrenethir stood with her wings folded behind her. In this manner the two waited for any sign of Elven movement from either end of the cramped avenue.
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Postby Arenial » Sat Sep 20, 2003 10:44 pm

<i>Liri huddled closer to her small fire. Staying warm on the Misty Mountains wasn't always easy. Next to her lay her black stallion, Fëaglar(Spirit of Brilliance). A soft moonlight spilled into the little cavern which Liri a called her home tonight, causing her silver hair to shine. Suddenly, the light got brighter, almost blinding. Liri turned to shield her eyes from the light. After a second, the light faded and Liri was able see again. She turned back to her fire, only to see a woman standing there. Liri followed her eyes until they rested on the woman's face. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her skin was soft and pale, her eyes were a brilliant blue and her golden hair rippled over her shoulders and passed her waist. Liri knew who she was almost instantly.</i><BR><BR>"Varda." <i>she whispered in awe, dipping her head in reverance.</i> <BR><BR>"Rise, child." <i>Varda said kindly.</i><BR><BR><i>Liri obeyed.</i> "To what do I owe this honer, milady?" <i>she asked.</i><BR><BR>"I bring a message from the great I Am, Ilúvatar."<BR><BR><i>Liri's eyes widened. Who was she to recive a message from Eru?</i><BR><BR>"You are to go to Rivendell," <i>Varda continued</i> "There, you will meet five others. You are to journey to Valinor with them."<BR><BR>"But, why me? I am no one important. Why would Eru want me?"<BR><BR>"Only He knows. Do not worry Lirimaëarelen, you will find your purpose. You are more important than you think." <i>Varda said, placing a hand on Liri's shoulder.</i> <BR><BR>"Now, go. You must hurry or you will miss them."<BR><BR>"Yes, milady." <i>Liri said, still bewildered at the news.</i> <BR><BR><i>With one last smile, Varda disappeard, leaving Liri alone. Liri quickly put out the small fire, mounted her horse and road off into the night. She had to make it to Rivendell in a day. Luckily, she was only a bit more than half a day away.</i>
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Postby Me-elf » Sun Sep 21, 2003 2:29 pm

Gwathrenethir slept fitfully on her feet. Her eyes would not shut, but stayed upon the end of the alley even in her dreams. She saw Elves before her mind's eye, they were all walking, walking toward Imladris. <BR>The shadows soon covered all in the narrow passage between the two Elven buildings. The darkness, though deep, was not pressing or dank. Only the evenings in Imladris still had the light touch of the cool late-summer wind. Elves still dwelt therein, and nature still favored them, for it had been treated well by their kind, and in turn it chose to bless the fair folk. The lighter Elf (Gwathrenethir hadn't learned her name) stood as still as the stone wall she leaned against, wandering her own Elven dream-paths. Gwathrenethir breathed the cool air deeply, and returned to her dream...
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Postby Alassemiire_Arineel » Mon Sep 22, 2003 3:06 pm

<i>Alassemiire swung off her horse, Arinlinque, just as they came within the gate of Imladris. Looking about her she saw with sorrow the damage which the slow decay of time had done since its master had departed for Valinor. Valinor. Her heart longed to return there. Yavanna had sent her on a mission to Middle-earth long ago, and with great heartbreak she had departed from her people, her brother, and her lover. <BR><BR>Ingwe had taught Alassemiire much, and was always a kind and loving older brother. When she had declared that she was leaving Valinor for Middle-earth, she was met with strong dissaproval from Ingwe, but resisting the pleas and entretees of Tuilere Brilthor, her betrothed, had been the most painful. The last words that she had received from Tuilere had been icy and cold, not warm and loving as she was used to receive from him. That in itself had almost caused Alassemiire to turn back, but the gem of Yavanna that Yavanna had given her strengthened her resolve to go on. <BR><BR>Now it was time to return. Iluvatar himself spoke to her in a dream. She was to meet a group of elves in Imladris, she would know them when she saw them. Her heart told her that Gwathrenethir, her good friend, would be waiting there as well. Looking about her carefully, Alassemiire turned and walked down one street after another, her elven eyes taking in each elf that was around her. Her heart told her to go on farther. Just as the first light of morning shone into Imladris, Alassemiire caught sight of two elves seated next to each other, looking around. <BR><BR>"These are the ones you shall return to Valinor with. I have chosen them, as I have chosen you, to travel this dangerous road." Iluvatar spoke to her heart, and Alassemiire approached them. <BR><BR>"el sila lumena vomentienguo - A star shines upon the hour of our meeting." Alassemiire said, to the two elves. The two elves stood and looked at Alassemiire. At once Alassemiire recognized one of them.<BR><BR>"It is well to see your face once again, Gwathrenethir Nirethir." Alassemiire said, grasping Gwathrenethir's arm.<BR><BR>
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Postby Aiwe » Mon Sep 22, 2003 5:08 pm

Kemenkhílë rose slowly from the nest she'd made in the hollow beneath an ancient mallorn's roots. She had awakened from fitful slumber with such overpowering pain, such homesickness, that now she threw her head back and howled. Howled to the vessel of the moon, and to the shining stars, a long, mournful wail that silenced the nighttime forest with its shuddering grief. Keme sat down again beneath the twisted roots, weeping silently for the home she abandoned so long ago. Valinor! with its beauty so astonishing, a place where she once learned from and served the great Yavanna Kementari. Yavanna, the only one in alll of Valinor who seemed to love Keme more, not less, for what she had become. Even Keme's beloved brother, Kalgil, had carefully distanced himself from her after that first full moon had shown the wolf's taint was in her blood. The two vertical scars running from her forehead to her cheeks, and the ragged bite-mark on the right of her neck throbbed with the memory of the violence that had robbed her of her sight, and of her life. <BR><BR><i>I ran away...so long ago...</i> she thought to herself. <i>I turned my back on all the elves and spirits of Valinor, rejected them, rejected Yavanna despite the pity she took on me. I am no servant of Melkor, because of what she did for me. How could I have been so selfish? So rash? How could any of them forgive my actions now, when they all shudder to see me as I have truly looked ever since that accursed werewolf bit me?</i> she fumed, running clawed fingers across the throbbing scars of her face. <i>But I had to do it,</i> she remembered. <i> at least, I felt that I had to. I was scorned, hated, even my own father treated me as If I were a spy of Melkor. They could not stand to have their fair city tainted as I had been tainted. How could I ever wish to go back to all that hatred? How could I dare to hope for forgiveness from the ones I rejected?</i><BR><BR>Her sobs slowly turned to low, regular breaths as she drifted off back to sleep. A voice, so clear that it was hard to believe it was part of the dream, and not the voice of someone sitting next to her, spoke. <i>"Forgiveness,"</i> it said <i>"Is there if you but ask for it. Return home, Kemenkílë, and seek your forgiveness. In Imladris you will meet your journeying companions. You will know them when first you sense them."</i><BR><BR>Keme's blind eyes snapped open. She knew in her heart whose voice she had just heard. <i>Imladris...</i> she thought. <i>Yes, I should like to see Imladris once more before the end...</i><BR><BR>She reached into her little cave and pulled out a small, tattered bundle, full of of clothes and a few leaf-wrapped cakes of <i>lembas</i> from the nearby realm of Lothlórien. She felt her left hand with her right--it was taloned and sleek-furred, for she was in what had become her "natural state" since that fateful blood-bite. Keme was a werewolf, and though the werewolf can take the form of either a full humanoid or a full wolf, these forms are taxing to maintain. The middle ground is the rest state, where a werewolf need not concentrate to hold its shape. This is the form Keme had spent most of her life in since the bite, for the form of her former self, a slender, raven-haired elf maiden, brought back the memories of the life she could no longer live. <BR><BR>She found the finely-worked ring on her left middle finger. It was mithril, she knew, both from memory and the tangy scent of metal it gave off, and it had a teardrop of opal set amongst coiling flower fines. She rubbed the band, feeling every familiar leaf and flower lovingly. It was a gift from her brother on the day she was accepted as servant of Yavanna. She wore it always to remind herself that yes, the past was there, the life before the blood-bite was there. She never wanted to forget, no matter how much her heart was pained by those memories. She removed the ring from her finger and packed it with care into her meager bundle. <BR><BR>Then, drawing a deep breath, she changed. The change was slow as always, painful as always. Keme gritted her teeth as she felt her bones crunch and her muscles twang into new shapes. She collapsed onto her hands and feet, which became paws with agonizing slowness. Finally it was over, and she tasted the air with her wolf's nostrils, finding the path to Imladris. It took but a moment, for though her eyes were sightless gray orbs, her ears and nose and all other senses were of werewolf height, more sensetive even than the keenest of elves. She took the bundle in her mouth, and padded silently through the trees. <BR><BR>--Aiwe
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Postby Me-elf » Mon Sep 22, 2003 6:18 pm

Gwathrenethir rose at Alassemiire's tug, tears of joy alight in her ageless eyes.<BR>"My friend," she said. "how long it has been. I had a feeling in my heart that you would join us, it has been my only consolation during my long journey here. And how is the great horse?" Gwathrenethir approached Arinlinque and stroked the velvet nose of the horse. <BR>Turning back to the two Elves, Gwathrenethir gestures to the cloaked Elf.<BR>"This is..." she paused, unsure of herself. "I am afraid I do not know who this is."<BR>The lighter Elf stepped forward and touched her forehead lightly in greeting.<BR>"I am Elemmírë of Imladris, it is my pleasure to meet you," said the Elf softly.<BR>"She is to be our traveling companion," said Gwathrenethir. "I feel others on the wind. Alassemiire, shall we wait here in Imladris for a few more days? Or shall we move?"<BR>"We shall stay." Alassemiire replied. "I should like to wander Rivendell once more before we take our leave...forever..."
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Postby Aiwe » Mon Sep 22, 2003 7:41 pm

Keme reached Rivendell after weeks of hard running. She panted heavily in the cool night air of the wilderness outside the city, and braced herself again for the change. This time it took even longer, as she morphed from wolf to half-wolf to elf. The pain was immense, excruciating, but she kep her jaw clamped tight and did not cry out. Finally she was elven--but just as her wolf form bore elvish marks, so her elf form bore wolfish features. Her teeth were sharp, her nails were black and talon-like, and silver streaked her raven locks. She felt for the knot in the bundle and untied it, and selected one of her shifts and her tattered cloak. Over her head she pulled the simple dress, and then fastened it behind her neck with a knot which could be quickly undone should she lose control of her form or need to change back to a wolf. She felt for the clasp of the cloak, then fastened it at ther throat and pulled the hood down low to cover her unsettling scars and cloudy, translucent eyes. Now suitably clothed, she sniffed her way to a willow tree and cut a switch with the mithril knife from her parcel of things, and with bundle tucked in one hand. and the willow switch sweeping from side to side in front of her path, she navigated through the cool, damp-feeling stone streets.<BR><BR>Elf-scent was everywhere, yet she knew right away, once she caught a certain trail, that it was the one she must follow. She walked briskly, dodging stones and statues with the aid of her willow-switch. In the forest, she had no need of such a tool, as the trees smelled different from the ground, and she could imagine the texture of the earth in her mind from the information gathered by her nose, ears, and skin, and she could easily avoid tree-roots and stones. But here, everything was stone, and it was difficult even for a werewolf to smell the difference between marble and alabaster. Eventually, she smelled three elves ahead--they were the ones, without a doubt. She stopped at the edge of the group, touching the hem of her hood to make sure it hid her face still.<BR><BR>"Hail, my companions. I am Kemenkhílë, called Seregaur, former servant of Yavanna. May I hear the voices of the ones I am to return home with?"
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Postby MeganBaggins » Tue Sep 23, 2003 12:17 pm

<i>Elemmírë stood still against the cold stone wall in silence as the sun descended below the horizon. She knew for a fact that the night would be a long one. She soon slipped into a dream of days long past...but yet still so close to her that she felt as though she could almost reach out and bring them back to life. <BR>****<BR>The wind was blowing warm on Elemmírë’s face, and her nose caught the wonderful scent of ancient trees. She patted the neck of her horse, ninquë, then tuned her elven senses deeper in on the world around her. She was soon brought out of her reverie, however, when her father rode up beside her on his brown stallion.<BR><BR></i> “Elemmírë, we are approaching the palace, we should be inside within the hour. Remember, be courteous to your cousins, keep in mind that you are of age now and need more than ever to mind your manners...remember the last time you were here?” <BR><BR><i> Elemmírë remembered well the last time she had visited Mirkwood with her father and brother (A little less than 300 years ago)...in fact she was likely to remember it her entire life...it had indeed been a time worth committing to memory. <BR><BR>Elemmírë had gotten herself into a rather large fight with her cousin Naurgalen, who was only 20 years her senior. The fight lasted more than an hour, but had eventually ended, producing in its wake two dirty elf-children and quite a bit of disturbance in the palace halls.</i><BR><BR>“Did you heed my words, Ele?”<BR><BR>“Yes Ada.”<BR><BR>“Excellent, enjoy the rest of the journey.” <BR><BR><i> Her father retreated back to the end of the small line of horses and left Elemmírë to her thoughts.<BR><BR>Three quarters of an hour later, Elemmírë, her Father, and her Brother were safe inside the stone<BR>Caverns of the palace of the Woodland King. Elemmírë had just been shown to her rooms, and changed out of her traveling clothes when a resounding knock thudded on the large oak door that opened out into the halls. She hastily crossed the room and opened the door to find a young male elf, not much older than herself, standing outside of her room.</i><BR><BR>“May I be of service?” She queried.<BR><BR>“Suilad, Elemmírë.” <BR><BR><i> Elemmírë was a bit taken aback by the fact that this complete stranger had known her name. But for some reason she felt as though she had seen this elf before...and then it hit her.</i><BR><BR>“Naurgalen?”<BR><BR>“Indeed, it is good to see you once more, my cousin. It has been many years since the last time I have seen you. You have grown into quite the lovely young elf maiden, if I am allowed to say such things.”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë smiled and opened the door wider, gesturing for Naurgalen to enter. He did so gladly and settled himself down on one of the green upholstered chairs that were set upon a large brown carpet in the center of the room. Elemmírë took a seat beside him on a small loung and proceeded to shower him with questions.<BR><BR> The pair talked long about the events of the past years, recounting all they could remember. Finally, Elemmírë looked out of her window to see that night had fallen on Mirkwood. Far off in the distance she could hear music, and the sound of many merry voices. Naurgalen stood up, and by the look on his face, appeared to be plotting something. Elemmírë picked up on this and gave him a look of good-natured distrust.</i><BR><BR><BR>“What are you planning, cousin? Another fight perhaps?”<BR><BR><i>Naurgalen laughed, and grabbed her hand.</i><BR><BR> “Nay, something better...something you will quite enjoy I am sure.”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë raised an eyebrow,</i><BR><BR>“What reason do I have to trust you? Last time you said such a thing you lead me to a mud pit and threw me in head first!” <BR><BR> “I guess you will just have to blindly trust me, and forget my past actions. Now, I will be back in no less than five minutes, in that time I suggest you change into something a little less...royal than the garments you are dressed in at present.”<BR><BR><i> He looked incredulously at the silver gown she was currently donning.</i><BR><BR>“ Pray tell, oh master of wardrobes, what sort of clothing should I wear on the mysterious escaped you have planned?”<BR><BR><i>Naurgalen thought for a moment,</i><BR><BR> “Something simple in green perhaps?”<BR>***<BR><i> Elemmírë woke, and for a moment forgot where she was. Then she looked sideways at her new acquaintance, now sleeping, who rested against the wall next to her. A quiet sigh passed Elemmírë lips...it was a sigh of the sadness of things beloved that now existed only in her dreams. As her eyes came fully into focus, she caught sight of an approaching elf, lit by the first rays of dawn. </i><BR><BR> "el sila lumena vomentienguo” <BR><BR><i> The elf spoke when she had come face to face with the pair. A happy look of recognition came over the female elf’s face as she looked upon Elemmírë’s companion. </i><BR><BR><BR>"It is well to see your face once again, Gwathrenethir Nirethir."<BR><BR><i> “Ah, so that is her name.” Elemmírë thought to herself as she watched the two friends embrace.</i><BR><BR><BR>"My friend," <i> Gwathrenethir said, tears of joy in her eyes.</i><BR><BR> "how long it has been. I had a feeling in my heart that you would join us, it has been my only consolation during my long journey here. And how is the great horse?" <BR><BR><BR><i>Gwathrenethir stroked the nose of the horse belonging to their new travel companion.<BR><BR>Turning towards Elemmírë, Gwathrenethir motioned towards her.</i><BR><BR>"This is...I am afraid I do not know who this is."<BR><BR><i>Elemmírë laughed lightly to herself and touched her forehead in greeting.</i><BR><BR>"I am Elemmírë of Imladris, it is my pleasure to meet you," <BR><BR><i>She said quietly.</i> <BR><BR>"She is to be our traveling companion," said Gwathrenethir. "I feel others on the wind. Alassemiire, shall we wait here in Imladris for a few more days? Or shall we move?"<BR><BR>"We shall stay." <i>Alassemiire replied.</i> <BR><BR>"I should like to wander Rivendell once more before we take our leave...forever..."<BR><BR><i> Once again the voices in Elemmírë’s blood called to her.<BR><BR>“To the sea, Elemmírë.... to Valinor!”<BR><BR>And then,<BR><BR>“The forests of middle earth do not yet fade, take rest beneath their branches.” </i><BR><BR>For a moment she hesitated, thinking again of Mirkwood...but as quickly as the uncertainty came, it was gone and she knew where she must go.<BR><BR>“To Valinor, yes,”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë spoke beneath her breath.</i>
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Postby Me-elf » Thu Sep 25, 2003 11:30 am

Gwathrenethir turns her head sharply to the newcomer. She studied the Elf carefully, noting the sharpened teeth in the shadows of the hood, the long black nails, the mallorn switch in her hand. This Elf was blind, and what's more, she was a werewolf. Still, around her was the air that all of them posessed, the feeling, the almost-scent of one who has heard the voice of Eru himself. Casting aside all doubts, Gwathrenethir spoke.<BR>"Hail, Kemenkhílë, Follower of Eru's voice. It is good that another has joined us. I am Gwathrenethir, the first to come to this street. These are our companions as yet: Elemmírë and Alassemiire. We have determined to linger here for a few more sunrises, and then we shall depart. Welcome to our company."
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Postby GollumsTorment863 » Sat Sep 27, 2003 10:08 am

Falas Telthalion opened his eyes. No...they weren’t open, but he could see. He could see a dim light, as of a candle flame, flickering in the distance. He walked towards it, knowing what it was, and who held it. But as he drew near, a wind came unseen and unheard, and he was thrown into darkness once more. <BR><BR>Falas had this dream often. He knew it was a dream. He knew he was asleep. And yet this knowledge did not affect him in any way. The dreams came and went, and then there was peace. A peace he could never have were he awake, alive, living. He often wondered when the real peace would come, the peace uninterrupted by troubled dreams of the past. He wondered what it would be like to die. He had lain there waiting for 3,000 years, an entire age of the world, yet the final sleep had not come to him. He had not yet drifted off to Mandos’ silent halls, and he was beginning to think he never would. The gift of immortality given to the elves now seemed like a terrible curse. He was forced to live with the guilt, the fear, the memories...not even sleep could take those away. <BR><BR>Falas waited for the dream to fully fade, so that his mind could rest. But the dream didn’t cease, as he was accustomed to. Instead, it continued on. The usual darkness that the dream ended with was unchanged, but he could hear something. Confused, yet intrigued, Falas allowed his thoughts to wander, despite his misgivings. Listening closely, he realized what the sound was. It was the sea. The voice of Ulmo in the deep. The waves of Ossë rolling on the surface. Slowly, sight came to him, dim at first, but then with startling clarity. He saw the sea, he saw the shores of Eldamar. He saw the broken ships of the Númenoreans, along with his own fleet of Swan Ships from Tol Eressea. Then he saw himself, struggling against the crashing waves of the Belgaer Sea. He tasted the salt water filling his lungs, heard the cries of the men surrounding him. The mortal men being crushed beneath mountains, or being pulled down beneath the waves. The end of Númenor. Why was he seeing this again? ...Darkness. The island of Númenor, the White Tree’s roots being ripped from the ground, the Temple of Morgoth being constructed. Falas standing in the Palace, awaiting the words of Ar-Pharazôn...No, the words of the Deceiver. Ar-Pharazôn was merely a puppet, as Falas soon discovered himself to be as well. He saw the Deceiver, smiling benignly at him while searching out his weaknesses, reading his soul like an open scroll. He saw the white swan ships sailing in the harbor towards Númenor, himself the captain of one. He saw his father, his brother...and he saw her. He saw her holding a candle in the darkness, waiting for someone other than him. He saw himself help build the city of Avallónë, laying brick upon brick. He saw King Olwë, in the fair city of Alqualondë, speaking with his father. He saw his mother. He saw the trees. He saw the sea. The sea that was his mother’s womb...and then there was nothing. This dream had catapulted him backwards through his life, to the point where he was no longer there. To the beginning, when he was nothing. At first, Falas wondered if he had finally stopped living, if this is what it was like to die. But then he heard a voice. It was the most amazing sound he had ever heard before, there was no way to explain it. He had never heard this voice before, and yet he knew who it was. It was Eru, the One. <BR><BR>“Falas Telthalion, awake from your sleep.”<BR><BR>“I cannot.”Falas was startled to hear his own voice. For 3,021 years he had slept, and not uttered a sound. <BR><BR>“Do not disobey me, child. Awake.”<BR><BR>Falas opened his eyes. He was awake now, he knew he was. There was no going back to sleep now. Eru had opened his eyes. Without words, Eru had silently commanded him to return to the Undying Lands, the one thing that Falas could not do. It was impossible. Falas had accepted that long ago. He could never go back there, not after the mortifying crimes he had commited. He deserved the pits of Utumno, and no less. Certainly not the Paradise of Valinor. Eru must be mistaken, but...he had felt the call of the sea lately. In his dreams, in his subconcious sleep. And that commanding, powerful, yet loving voice was impossible to resist. He had to obey the One. He had to rise and walk in a world that he didn't know. He had to depart for Imladris, a place he had never been to, only heard of...and yet somehow, he knew the way.
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Postby GollumsTorment863 » Sat Sep 27, 2003 4:43 pm

Guided by some invisible force, Falas wandered through the streets of Imladris, a certain reluctance in this gait. It had been a few weeks since his departure from Mirkwood, but the world was still rather disconcerting to him. When he had come out of the earth and gone back to the Kingdom of Greenwood, the few elves that remained there looked at him in surprise, and with a slight suspicion. He was brought before Thranduil once again, who had not forgotten him over the years, and was greeted by him with courtesy. Falas told the king about his intentions to travel to Rivendell, and Thranduil granted him permission to go. Falas was allowed to wash and given fresh clothes, and also two mithril daggers, crafted by the dwarves, as a blessing. Falas hadn’t deserved the courtesy shown him by the Silvan Elves. If they knew who he was they wouldn't have been so kind. He was lucky the songs of old had forgotten him. <BR><BR>Falas had never seen Rivendell in its full splendor, when the elves sang constantly, and the light of Valinor still shone in their eyes, but that was just as well. He preferred the quiet twilight which now encompassed the city, and the soft movements of its inhabitants. He pulled his cloak about him, not as a shelter from the cold night air-elves did not feel the cold-but as a shield from the many eyes watching him. He had no physical attributes that stood out, nothing to make them stare but the aura of guilt surrounding him. Or perhaps they didn’t stare at all, maybe Falas was imagining it. He could never tell.<BR><BR>Falas made his way to a sidestreet and followed it to its end. Here there was a corner which branched off onto another main road. And standing on the side of the street was a small group of elves. They were waiting for him. Somehow he knew that these would be his companions on his journey to the place of his nightmares. He hated to bring the curse of his presence upon them, but Eru had spoken, and Falas could not disobey.<BR><BR>“Are you soon departing for Valinor?” he asked softly. This was his way, short and to the point.
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Postby Me-elf » Sun Sep 28, 2003 5:39 pm

Four heads turned at the soft sound of the voice. Not even the Elven ears of the first four had heard the sound of the Elf's step. Gwathrenethir went up to the stranger and gripped his forearms with her hands.<BR><BR>"Welcome, kindred spirit, we intend to depart in a few days' time."<BR>Gwathrenethir looked into the downcast eyes of the younger Elf. <BR>"You have been afflicted, that is plain. Your journey with us will be hard, but the end will be a welcome relief, I promise," she said comfortingly.<BR><BR>"These," she went on, "are our companions. Elemmírë, Kemenkhílë, and my friend Alassemiire of the Vanyar. I am Gwathrenethir of the Teleri of Alqualondë. You have come to join us, I sense?"<BR><BR>The Elf nodded silently.<BR><BR>"What is your name?" asked Alassemiire.<BR><BR>"Falas," said the Elf. <BR><BR>Arinlinque backed away from Falas, snorting irritably. Alassemiire hushed him, but the horse appeared still nervous, uneasy.<BR><BR>"What is it?" asked Elemmírë. Gwathrenethir put out her hand for silence and stood listening hard. Her wingtips trembled slightly with her concentration, the black pinfeathers shaking like chattering teeth. The others looked at her curiously.<BR><BR>"We cannot linger here, we must go now. There is no time to wait for any others," Gwathrenethir said, her voice soft but urgent. She whistled quietly, and out of the shadows of another alley strode a great black horse. <BR><BR>He was handsome and dark as night-sheen, with red markings that entwined his legs up to his sides; his nose up into his mane. These markings entwined themselves into vine shapes like the twigs of a weeping willow. <BR><BR>"His name is Morloch. He came to me in my wanderings many ages ago..." a faraway look came into Gwathrenethir's eyes as she stood leaning an elbow against her horse.<BR><BR>"Come," she said suddenly, swinging up onto Morloch's back. "We must ride." <BR><BR>And so, as the first light of dawn touched the treetops of Imladris, the Followers galloped out of the Haven behind, and made for the West, for Valinor.
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Postby Aiwe » Sun Sep 28, 2003 9:14 pm

Keme listened to the solid hoofbeats Morloch, smelling his thick scent on the air, and said, "I have no horse, but allow me a few moments..."<BR><BR>She slipped into a deserted, windowless alley and ducked behind a cart, where she removed her garments and changed once more. She returned to her companions as a wolf, black and lithe, but scarred and blind as before. Her things were neatly bundled up and tied at one end of the willow-switch. <i>No sense hiding it from them. They'd find out sooner or later, if they haven't figured it out already. Besides, I don't feel such an outcast amongst them, despite what I am.</i> <BR><BR>She followed Morloch's scent-cloud to its source, and gently poked Gwathrenethir's ankle with her stick. The winged elf was puzzled for a moment, then she took the end of the long switch in her hand, and, with Keme holding the other in her mouth, led the blind wolf out of the city of stone.<BR><BR>Once the hoofbeats became hollow heartbeats instead of harsh clatterings, and the rich scents of moss and decaying wood rose in a thick cloud, and the soft, moist coolness beneath Keme's paws told her that they had reached the end of the stone roads, Keme tugged lightly on the stick. Gwathrenethir released her end, and, after taking a moment to adjust things so that she could carry both stick and bundle comfortably, Keme loped after the swift horses. As she ran, glad to be out of that prison of stone, Keme wondered about the latest companion to join their group. <i>I never even heard his footsteps,</i> she thought. <i>Granted, my mind was elsewhere, but still...that elf is talented in the art of stealth. There must be a story behind that.</i><BR><BR>--Aiwe<BR><BR>
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Postby MeganBaggins » Thu Oct 02, 2003 5:52 pm

<i>Elemmírë Stood still and quiet as the other elves spoke amongst themselves. Another had joined the group of those called, he seemed sad, something from his past was haunting him. Minutes ticked by, and Elemmírë was about to speak when one of the horses began to snort and move nervously, and Elemmírë cocked her head to try and decipher the reason for the horse’s unease.</i> <BR><BR>“What is it?”<BR><BR><i>She asked, but her question went unanswered, as Gwathrenethir motioned for silence.<BR>After a moment a stressed expression seemed to play across the elf’s features, </i><BR><BR> "We cannot linger here, we must go now. There is no time to wait for any others," <BR><BR><i>Gwathrenethir said, her voice tainted with a pressing urgency. She whistled quietly, and out of the shadows of another alley came a grand, dark horse. It reminded Elemmírë of her father’s stallion, and she couldn’t suppress the grieved sigh that came from the innermost reaches of her still mourning soul.<BR> For no more than a few seconds she watched as the others moved about, readying themselves for travel, then hurriedly excused herself.</i><BR><BR>“Forgive me, I must gather a few of my belongings, and fetch my horse, I will not be more than a quarter of an hour!”<BR><BR><i>With that said, Elemmírë dashed off down the street towards her rooms. On arrival at her dwelling, the sudden realization of what she was about to take upon herself hit her like a stone to the head.</i> <BR><BR>“I shall never come once more to my home, I am leaving.... without return.”<BR><BR><i>Quickly and quietly she brought out a few of her old traveling packs out of a back room, then proceeded to gather all she would need, and a few precious items that she could not bear to leave behind. In the space of ten minutes, she had all she needed packed. <BR>She hurriedly scratched out a note to anyone who would first realize her absence, and closed the door on many a memories, then proceeded to the stables and mounted her white horse, ninquë.</i> <BR><BR>“Come my friend, we have one last journey to make together.”<BR><BR><i>Swiftly, the two made their way to her now ready companions and set off through Rivendell, one last time. <BR>Elemmírë closed her eyes for a moment, taking a last deep breath of the air of Imladris, her home.</i><BR>
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Postby Arenial » Sat Oct 04, 2003 12:06 pm

<i>Liri hurridly entered the great city of Rivendell. She had not been here in over one thousand years and yet, it was still the same. She rode through the streets. Where were the others? She had to find them quick. A sound of hoof beats just ahead of her caught her attention. She could see five on horses. There they were. Liri rode after them.</i><BR><BR>"Wait!" <i>she called loud enough for them to hear.</i><BR><BR><i>They halted. She quickly rode up to them.</i><BR><BR>"What do you want?" <i>asked one with wings.</i><BR><BR>"I am Lirimaëarelen. I am to join you on your quest to Valinor." <i>she said and briefly told them of her encounter with Varda.</i><BR><BR>"Very well then" <i>said the one with wings</i> "I am Gwathrenethir. With me are Elemmírë, Kemenkhílë, Alassemiire, and Falas." <i>she said pointing to each one in the group.</i><BR><BR>"Pleased to meet you all." <i>Liri said.</i><BR><BR>"Come, we must hurry." <i>said Gwathrenethir. And with that, they rode off west, toward Valinor.</i>
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Postby GollumsTorment863 » Sun Oct 05, 2003 9:41 am

Falas rode silently behind the others, gazing at the scenery flashing past him. This Middle-Earth was a beautiful place. Crude, yes, compared to the Undying Lands, yet it still held its simple beauty. It saddened Falas that he was being forced to leave it now. It almost made him wish he had not slept all those years. But no, living would have surely led to him making a mistake again. <BR><BR>Falas glanced down at the horse he rode. He had no idea who it belonged to. When Gwathrenethir announced that they would depart, he had slipped off to find a means of transportation. He had journeyed on foot to Rivendell, but he assumed that they would be traveling at a much faster pace west. Two streets away he had seen the horse unwatched, and so returned with it to his companions for the journey. It was a beautiful creature, and he had no qualms about taking it. Theft was a small crime compared to the treachery he had committed. In any case, the horse seemed undisturbed by his presence, and obeyed his commands willingly.
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Postby Me-elf » Sun Oct 05, 2003 7:48 pm

When Lirimaëarelen had joined them Gwathrenethir felt that the company had completed itself. It was like a circle that had been broken and scattered, gathering itself together again for one purpose. The Elves rode hard. Gwathrenethir sped Morloch along with her voice, muttering dark words in a long forgotten tongue. She felt darkness behind them, pressing from the East and North. It threatened to swallow them out of thought and memory, and the world after them.<BR><BR>Falas had gotten a horse, as had Elemmírë, and all but Kemenkhílë rode with such fervor and speed that any who saw them wondered if the company had really gone by at all, or if they had simply imagined it.<BR><BR>Gwathrenethir turned in her mind the thoughts and feelings she had encountered since this final adventure. Excitement, fear, hope, camraderie among kindred spirits. Her memories passed as fleetingly as the trees that flashed by as they rode, harldy discernable from the surrounding scenery, so great was their speed. They would make for the Shire, Gwathrenethir determined, stopping but few times between their position now and their destination. She would, she thought, be the one most loathe to halt, so great was her impatience to see her Swan again...
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Postby Arenial » Sun Oct 12, 2003 9:01 pm

Liri yawned and sat up. The company had stopped for the night by a small stream. It was a peaceful night and the moon was full but Liri could not sleep. She silently got out of bed and walked up to a hill a little ways off and sat down, pulling her cloak around her small body to keep warm. She hadn't been sitting there for more than a few minutes when she noticed another presence on the hill with her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Falas sitting on the other side of the hill. Liri quietly krept over to where he was sitting.<BR><BR>"Hello Falas." Liri said quietly<BR><BR>Falas didn't say a word but gave her a tiny smile. <BR><BR>"I couldn't sleep." Liri explained as if answering an unasked question. The two sat in an awkward silence for a while, both not sure what to say. But at last Liri spoke. <BR><BR>"Well, I guess since we'll be travelling together I suppose we should get to know each other a little better, don't you?"<BR><BR>Falas looked at her and nodded slightly, not saying a word.<BR><BR>"Well, I'll start. My name is Lirimaëarelen but you can call me Liri if you want. I am pretty sure I am a Telerin elf though I can't be certain."<BR><BR>Falas gave her a questionable look. Liri explained.<BR><BR>"I never knew my parents, where I was born or anything of the sort. They were both killed when I was a baby and a Telerin Elf by the name of Ëarfalas of the Grey Havens took me in and took care of me until I was about two thousand years old. He was killed then. I've been wandering Middle Earth for about a thousand years now." she ended as she looked to the ground.<BR><BR>"Oh" was the only reply. "Where... uh.. where did you get that scar?" Falas asked.<BR><BR>Liri looked at him. That was the first time she heard him speak since they left Imladris. His voice was mellodic but sad, pleasing to the ears.<BR><BR>"Orcs" she answered then chuckled softly "It happened not too long after I became a ranger. One day I was attacked by about ten orcs. I killed them all but the last one gave me this scar." she said tracing it with her finger. "But, that's in the past. I am anxious to get to Valinor. Maybe I shall find some answers there. But, what about you? What is your history?"<BR><BR>Falas looked into her eyes. So understanding and trusting and yet, he wasn't sure what he would say.<BR><BR>(cue Falas. You can decide if he tells Liri or not and I have no idea what Falas's past was like.)
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Postby GollumsTorment863 » Mon Oct 13, 2003 1:49 pm

Falas sighed softly and looked out across the trees which surrounded the hill. He had come here to find some peace and solitude, but he found that he didn't mind the company of Liri. She seemed kind, and had readily told him of her past. He was a bit surprised at that. It showed she trusted him, though she knew nothing of him as of yet. It seemed wrong to withold the answers she asked for, yet...he couldn't tell her everything. Not yet. <BR><BR>Still gazing at the trees, not looking at Liri, Falas spoke. "I am also of the Teleri. My father was the ruler of the island of Tol Eressëa, though my family was originally from Alqualondë. I lived there for many years, sailing the seas, rarely feeling land beneath my feet. When Númenor was built, I often sailed there to speak with the men who lived there. I came to visit the island more and more, and I had many companions there..." Falas's voice began to falter slightly. He had to choose his words carefully. "I...happened to be there when Númenor fell..." This was too difficult. He was leaving out so much of the story that it hardly made sense anymore. But he didn't want to think about the rest, let alone tell it to someone else. There was too much pain. Not knowing how to continue, Falas simply let his words dissolve. <BR><BR>Liri, who had been watching Falas as he spoke, interpreted the cause of his silence to be from the pain he felt because the loss of his friends at Numenor. She smiled sympathetically. "You seem to have led a difficult life, my friend. If there's anything I can do to alleviate your pain, all you have to do is ask." <BR><BR>Falas smiled at her, glad that she hadn't asked any furthur questions about his past. "I thank you for your concern, Liri," his smile faded and his eyes grew distant. "...but I'm afraid nothing can take such pain away." He stood up and began to walk away, but then stopped and turned back to Liri. He felt some concern for her. Despite her sympathy for him, she seemed to carry a great weight of her own as well. She looked up at him questioningly, wondering why he was still there. Falas felt a bit awkward. He wasn't used to dealing with other people. Knowing he had to say something, he said, "You should get some sleep. We have a long day of travelling tomorrow."<BR><BR>Liri nodded, yet didn't move. She watched Falas as he strode back to the camp. However, she noticed that he turned at the last moment, disappearing into the trees when he thought she wasn't looking. <i>She</i> should get some sleep? Looks like he wasn't taking his own advice.
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Postby Me-elf » Mon Oct 13, 2003 4:24 pm

Gwathrenethir did not sleep that night. She sat with her wings wrapped about her against the cooling night breeze, quietly whispering with Alassemiire about the old times, though her heart was not in their conversation. She had notices Liri get up, and then Falas follwoing her, but the Telerin Elf simply stared at the flames, her silver eyes searching the tongues of fire for shapes of things past. Soon, even Alassemiire laid down, and Gwathrenethir was left to her own thoughts that rang in her head like a clanging bell. The small campfire changed to leaping flames, hundreds of feet in the air, burning Gwathrenethir's home...<BR><BR><i>Alqualondë burned. Her father had been killed, her mother was not at home, Gwathrenethir Aeronhwest had only her friend Thirgil Tar-Alquale to protect her through the evils of this horrid night. The sounds of battle came to her from the shore. She heard screams and clash of metal as the Kinslaying raged on. From her hiding place in a forest Gwathrenethir could see the lurid fire-glow rise from her city.<BR>Such a sad night.<BR>Thirgil had promised to meet her here, he had <b>promised</b>, but it was much past the appointed time. Drawing her black sword Narfëa, Gwatherenethir set out to find the knight she loved most.<BR>Sword drawn, she hurried silently through the silver undersides of the bushes, searching for her Thirgil. She felt him, his presence was there, around her, in the river. He was there, as she was.<BR>As she came out of the bushes and to the bank of the river, she beheld a terrible sight. Around her lay the dead bodies of Elves. But there were no other creatures. There had been a slaying of Elf by Elf. Gwath was horrified. A figure to her right stirred and groaned; whimpering in pain. Gasping, the Telerian princess looked at him, wild with fear, for the presence she felt eminated from him.<BR>Her heart in her throat, Gwathrenethir crawled along the bank, still able to hear the sound of the battle. She crept toward the figure that had stirred, silently making her way toward him. She tried to deny it, to convince herself that it wasn't so, but she knew that before her lay Thirgil Tar-Alqandil, the Elven Knight that had chosen her, the Telerian Princess for his bride-to-be.<BR>He was struggling on his stomach to crawl up the bank, grunting with every shove. <BR>"Shh," said Gwathrenethir, placing a trembling hand on his head as she reached him. <BR>"Princess?" he said, rolling onto his side and peering up at her. Gwathrenethir realized he had been blinded by the blade of a sword.<BR>"Aye, Thir. It is I," she replied in a whisper.<BR>"Then all is well. You are alive..." he gasped in pain before going on. "Alive to serve Elvenkind. I struggled to come to you, to see if you lived. I tried, my love, I tried..."<BR>"And you succeeded. We are here, and nothing can separate us, not even Mandos himself. Be strong, my Swan, be strong." Gwathrenethir attempted to feel for herself the strength she spoke of, but none of it would come. Instead she felt only the cold wind, and the trembleing of Eä beneath her, as it shuddered against the feel of the blood that had been spilt upon her face.<BR>Suddenly a heart-rending cry on the opposite shore drew Gwathrenethir's eyes upward, and she beheld one of the Silver Swans on the bank, crying out with the only voice it would ever have. A voice at the time of its death. It plunged over, and as it did she felt Thirgil go limp in her arms.<BR>The Swan had died. </i>
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Postby Arenial » Thu Oct 16, 2003 3:08 pm

Liri still sat on the hill. Alone now, Falas had left. Her eyes staryed to where she had last seen him go off into the woods. She was half-tempted to follow him but decided against it. She found that she enjoyed his company and was looking forward to getting to know him better. She yawned.<BR><BR><i>Well, I best get some sleep.</i> she thought and walked back to camp. She slid under her blanket, wrapping it tightly around her. She stayed awake for a while though, her eyes refusing to close. She had many nights were like this. She lay there, watching Gwarthrenethir out of the corner of her eye until at last, her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep.
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Postby MeganBaggins » Sat Oct 25, 2003 2:09 pm

<i>Elemmírë could not sleep. Her head was flooded with an overwhelming torrent of memories. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing with all her might that she could go back in time and forever solidify those moments that haunted her dreams and tormented her spirit. An hour passed, and still she lay awake. She felt cold inside, so cold that it seemed as though warmth would never again grace her soul.</i><BR><BR>“If only he had not...”<BR><BR><i> But no, she could not blame her sorrows on him. He had been nothing but wonderful. And then he had gone, like a moonlit mist disappears in the heat of the sun. He had been a dream, that’s all.</i><BR><BR>“Then why does he yet linger in my heart?”<BR><BR><i> But Elemmírë’s silent question went unanswered, and a restless slumber finally took her. <BR><BR>*****<BR><BR>Elemmírë gazed skeptically at her reflection in the elaborate mirror. Green had never been her most preferred shade to wear, but green was what Naurgalen had suggested, and so she had obeyed. Presently, a muffled voice spoke from the opposite side of the door,</i><BR><BR>“Elemmírë, are you dressed?”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë took one last glance at her reflection, then replied.</i><BR><BR>“Indeed, do come in.”<BR><BR><i> The knob turned and Naurgalen entered, carrying a brown leather sack in his hand.</i><BR><BR>“That colour suits you well, Elemmírë. Come, let us depart!”<BR><BR><i> With his free hand, Naurgalen grabbed Elemmírë’s wrist and pulled her hastily out of the door and through the lamp lit halls of the palace. At length they came to small grey stone door, unguarded and rather secret looking.</i><BR><BR>“Where are we g....”<BR><BR><i>But Naurgalen motioned for silence as he produced a rusted key from a pocket in his breeches, and noiselessly slipped it into the large iron lock that fastened the door.</i><BR><BR>“You shall see, little cousin. Be patient”<BR><BR><i> Naurgalen whispered. Elemmírë furrowed her brow at the name: “Little cousin.” But did not say anything aloud. <BR><BR>She sighed happily as Naurgalen opened the door lead her out, their bare feet making contact with the feel of forest floor. The smell of ancient trees permeated her senses and for a while, as they were walking, all she could do was peacefully take in the essence of the wood. A short time later, Elemmírë noticed that the sound of voices she had heard in the room vas very near now, and she could even see shafts of light shining through the trees, as if in greeting. Then, as they came to a clearing, Elemmírë could see a group of merry looking elves, all dressed in green and brown, sitting on stools made of felled trees. They were chatting, eating, laughing and singing all at once, and Elemmírë could not help feeling quite joyous at the sight. A warm glow came from a great many torches fastened to the surrounding trees and a cheery fire in the middle of the circle made yet more light. When those in the circle noticed the couple’s presence, they called out cheerily in greeting,</i><BR><BR>“Suilad* Naurgalen!”<BR><BR><i> Naurgalen smiled widely and brought Elemmírë into the midst of the ring.</i><BR><BR>“Meneg Suilaid Mellyn!”** <BR><BR><i> Naurgalen answered, sitting down with Elemmírë upon two wooden seats. Soon, Elemmírë was caught up in happy conversation with a group of merrymakers. All the while Naurgalen sat, unbeknownst to Elemmírë, looking with a soft expression at his female cousin. Others in the group saw this, and smiled slyly to themselves, for many of them had seen, and had once worn the look themselves. <BR><BR><BR>An hour or so later, Naurgalen unfastened the leather bag he had been toting and brought from it a bottle of wine.<BR>He then plucked two goblets from a nearby table and poured the contents of the bottle into each. Naurgalen handed one to Elemmírë, and held the other in his right hand.</i><BR><BR>“A toast,”<BR><BR><i>he said softly,</i><BR><BR>“To my little cousin, who is all grown up and quite the beauty. May the rest of her days be blissful ones.”<BR><BR><i> The two raised their glasses, sipping down the sweet, fruity liquid.</i><BR><BR>“To blissful days.”<BR><BR><i> Elemmírë whispered.</i><BR><BR>________________________________________________________<BR>OOC<BR>Sindarin translations:<BR><BR>* "Greeting"<BR><BR>** "A thousand greetings, Friends!".
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Postby Me-elf » Wed Oct 29, 2003 7:34 am

As soon as dawn brushed the eastern hills with her weakening late-summer fingers Gwathrenethir roused herself. She had slipped into a dream sometime during the night, but the dream had been no better than the waking hours. She stood, and the others too began to stir. Alassemiire was putting the fire out, as she did so she held out to Gwathrenethir a wafer of lembas bread.<BR>"Eat, friend, we must soon be on our way," she said. Gwathrenethir took the bread and bit it absently as the others went about making ready. She stared far out to the west, she felt it that way. There was another, one more Elf that felt the call of Eru. There were other Elves with her, but she was the only Elf that had that life in her, the only one of her people to travel with them perhaps. But why?<BR>"Elemmírë," said Gwathrenethir to the first Elf to join her. "Do you feel it?"<BR>"I do, we will meet her today," Elemmírë replied. Gwathrenethir nodded.<BR>"I think so, too."<BR><BR>§ § §<BR><BR>When all had been made ready, those with mounts mounted and those with legs sprang forward, and again the movement of the little band began. <BR>They traveled in hill country, grasses weaving in the cooling breeze about the horses' legs and rolling in waves over Arda's back. It was beautiful, but when Gwathrenethir called a halt at noon it was not the grass that she had stopped to look at.<BR>"There." She pointed over the land, almost to the horizon the Elves could see a large group of Elves.<BR>"Let us ride to them, she is there," said Gwathrenethir, pushing Morloch to the north.<BR>It did not take them long to reach the encampment. They were camped upon a hilltop, and it looked to the Followers that they had been there some time. Small huts had been erected, and there were worn places in the grass that appeared to serve as roads in this community, small as it was by Elven standards.<BR>An Elf, tall and great, stepped out of the largest hut. His clothes were rich, though old looking, such as Elves in former generations would wear. He was covered in doeskin and upon his back was a cape from the skin of a white stag. His headdress was of twisted bronze, and it covered long brown hair, braided intricately. He made as if to turn back into the hut, but thought better of it, and looked for the first time at Gwathrenethir and her group. He strode over to them, and they waited.<BR>"Hail," he said. "What do you want?"<BR>"We are a band of Elves under the call of Eru to come at once to Valinor. One of you, we feel, will journey with us. Why not all, I do not understand. Can you explain this?"<BR>"All," said the Elf. "I will tell you why not all. We will never go to Valinor. We will live in our forever home, our home that always has been and always will be. None of us will go with you."<BR>"My heart tells me otherwise." Gwathrenethir, old and wise, bored a fierce glance into the eyes of the one who dared oppose her.<BR>"Who are you?" she continued.<BR>"I am Denkar, leader of these people."<BR>"And I am Gwathrenethir Nirethir, Princess of the Teleri people of Alqualondë."<BR>"This means nothing to me," said Denkar defiantly.<BR>"The same," Gwathrenethir returned. There was silence for a few seconds as Denkar took the sting of Gwathrenethir's blow.<BR>"One of you <i>will</i> go with us," said Gwathrenethir, though more gently.<BR>"No. We are the Metavari, the Last Unwilling. We will never--"<BR>"Father?" a young Elf burst from the door of the hut but she did not continue with her sentence. Instead, she looked at the band of Elves with queer knowledge. She knew their purpose. Denkar looked up at Gwathrenethir, a hint of fear in his eyes.<BR>"She is the one," said the Princess. "She will go with us."
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Postby Morphobia » Thu Oct 30, 2003 1:27 am

Jaera glanced from her father to the traveling elves who had just shown up. She could feel the hostility, and she ducked back into the hut just as her father swept in behind her. His face was red with rage, and he looked fit to burst. 'You will not go with them,' he hissed, furious. Jaera's mother Jala looked up from her embroidery, stunned at her husband's outburst. 'You will not leave this place, no matter what they say. We are the Metavari; it is against our nature, you understand?' Jaera could only nod mutely. Jala rose from her chair, peeking through the cloth that hung at the entrance to their home.<BR>'What is going on outside, Denkar?' Although her voice was soft, it was an order, and Denkar's first thought was to ignore her. But defying his wife was not an option for him.<BR>'These elves, they come to our home and say our daughter must travel with them.'<BR>'Where are they going?'<BR>There was an akward pause. 'Valinor.'<BR><BR>Jaera had heard of Valinor. Although her parents did not often speak of it, she heard of it as a child. Her tribe were wanderers in the early days, and there was wanderer's blood in Jaera. No doubt this opportunity to travel had aroused Jaera's interest, but there was no chance that her father would allow it. This was her chance.<BR><BR>'Father, wouldn't you please let me go?' Jaera asked, a little softly.<BR>'What was that?! I told you you're staying here!' Denkar growled, and Jaera glanced pleadingly at her mother. Jala's lips were drawn into a tight line, showing that she would not support her daughter's argument this time. Jaera tried approaching the problem from a different angle.<BR>'But you were a wanderer once, Father. Don't you think I deserve this opportunity?'<BR>'You can go wherever you want, Jaera Fallowthorn,' Denkar burst out, 'but never to Valinor!'<BR>'Why not, Father? You and Mother were both fond of traveling; I think I should have my chance.'<BR>'I have my own reasons, Jaera. You stay.'<BR>'Mother!'<BR>Jala shook her head. 'I cannot help you there, daughter.' Jaera sighed. She made for the door.<BR>'Stay there, young elf. You're not going anywhere.'<BR>'Let her go,' chided Jala. 'Meeting outsiders does her no harm.' Jaera escaped quickly.<BR><BR>She watched the elves at their little camp. She felt the urge to go over and talk to them, her sea-green eyes watching every face and silently evaluating them, something her father often did before accepting elves into the Metavari tribe. She tucked her lock of gold hair behind her ear, unsure of what to do. One of the elves waved at her, motioning for her to join them, and she did. After all, what harm could happen?
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Postby MeganBaggins » Fri Oct 31, 2003 10:40 am

<i>The pleasant warm glow of the fire lit the somber expression on Elemmírë’s face. Today had been a long one, though not without reward. The company had found their final elven member; alas, it would not be easy convincing her people to let her depart. Elemmírë picked up a long stick, and with it began to absently poke at the fire. For a long while she sat in silence, reflecting over the road behind, and the road ahead. It would be a long journey to the grey havens, for many miles still separated them even from Bree, the only town between Rivendell and the Shire. Elemmírë’s thoughts turned to the Metavari, a strange group they were...very different from any other elven tribe she had come across; but one of them was chosen to follow the will of Eru, against all her tribe stood for. <BR><BR>Elemmírë smiled at Falas as he sat down across from her to warm himself in the glow of the flames. Elemmírë had noticed that Falas was, for the most part, silent. His eyes seemed haunted by some distant memory, and she wondered what stood behind him that would cause him to be so grave. Elemmírë remembered something her father had said, long ago before his untimely death. Words of startling truth had come easily to her Father and this statement, along with many others, Elemmírë treasured:</i><BR><BR>“Everyone has a story, some tales are written by happiness, some by heartbreak, some by sickness, some by war...but in the end every story has an unknown end...and in that way all beings are alike.”<BR><BR>“You were so right, Ada...almost too right it seems,”<BR><BR><i>Elemmírë whispered longingly, brushing a cold silver tear from her pale cheek. So many ends of those dear to her had come to pass in the last century, and Elemmírë felt as though she would not be able to bear another death or separation without her own departure from the word that she still clung to despite the broken heart she carried inside.<BR><BR>A surreptitious grumble in her stomach reminded Elemmírë that she had not supped that evening. Reluctantly, she left her place at the fire for a moment to fetch one of her bags. From it, she brought a potato and some waybread, which she had snatched from her own kitchen in the last minutes before her departure from Rivendell. She set the bread upon her lap, then stuck the potato firmly on a sharp stick, holding it over the fire to roast.</i><BR>________________________________________________________________<BR><BR>OOC: Forgive the shortness and shallow content of this post.<BR>Its Halloween day and I have alot of planning to do before tonight!<BR>So, again, forgive the shortness...because I was rather cramped for time while writing it.<BR><BR>~Meg~<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>
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Postby Me-elf » Tue Nov 04, 2003 7:28 am

Gwathrenethir sat by the campfire in her usual way, motionless and silent. She stared up the hill at the community of Elves who milled around, going about their work and play, content with the life they had in Middle-earth.<BR><i>How could they be so happy?</i><BR>Out of Denkar's cottage came the young Elf, storming away from the house as though angry and hurt. Alassemiire looked up, and Keme, who remained silent most of the time, sniffed the change in the air at the captive Follower's entrance into the world outside.<BR>Gwathrenethir stood and motioned for Jaera to join them. Cautiously at first the young Elf drew near, looking back every now and again. When she reached the camp Gwathrenethir put her arm on Jaera's shoulder and led her to the fire. Jaera sat, and Gwathrenethir sat next to her.<BR>"Your Father will not let you go, I perceive," said the old Elf.<BR>"That is truth. He is so stubborn, but Eru has called, and I will answer, even if it means running away from my people," said Jaera.<BR>"We wish to avoid this, but if it is necessary it must be done. Even better would be if we could convince the Metavari to join us. There are shadows on the horizon, waiting to swallow this land up. How I'd hate to see Elves meet a fate such as that," said Alassemiire to Gwathrenethir and Jaera.<BR>Gwathrenethir nodded slowly, but Jaera shook her head.<BR>"Father will never join us, his feet are grounded here."<BR>"Will he listen to reason, do you think?" asked Gwathrenethir.<BR>"Perhaps, if you can convince him," said Jaera.<BR>"I may be able to, at that," said Gwathrenethir softly.<BR>"Gwathrenethir," said Jaera suddenly. "How old are you?"<BR>Gwathrenethir smiled a smile that lit up her eyes with aged light.<BR>"I was the first Elf born of Elven parents. I am not of the firstborn, but I am the first of the secondborn. No one is older save for those who woke on the shores of the great river."<BR>Jaera nodded.<BR>"Go back home, Jaera. I will speak with your father tomorrow."
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Postby GollumsTorment863 » Fri Nov 07, 2003 9:30 pm

Falas sat by the fire, immersed in his own brooding thoughts. He was aware of the goings-on in the company, aware of where they were, and why they were stopped in this Metavari camp. However, he found that he didn’t care much. He had been quiet since they left Rivendell, rarely speaking except when spoken to, which wasn’t often. He felt a distance between himself and his fellow travelers, save perhaps Liri, whom he had spoken to the most, though these events didn’t occur often. Yet he preferred the distance, he would rather be alone. He found that he still seemed to be in a state of neutral dispassion, undoubtedly influenced by his 3,000 year torpor. It was hard for him to interact with not only the beings, but the entire environment of this unpolished world that surrounded him. And so, he dwelt within himself, within his world, within his memories...<BR><BR><i>“Thinsûl, throw me that rope!” <BR><BR>Falas’ younger brother complied with his elder’s orders obediently, though with a slightly halfhearted toss. Falas ignored his brother’s lack of enthusiasm and caught the rope deftly, then began tying the ship securely to the dock. Dozens of other elven sailors around him followed his example while Thinsûl and the first mate, Nenorn, steadily lowered the anchor. It was silent work, and they were quickly finished with their task. The sailors then stood at attention, awaiting the orders of their captain. Falas stood tall before them, a figure of undebatable authority. He didn’t waste any time dishing out new orders.<BR><BR>“I want all of the cargo unloaded, preferably in haste. I have things to attend to on shore, as I’m sure the rest of you all do as well. However, handle the objects with care, for as you know, they were given to us by the men of Númenor.” The sailors nodded and went to work. <BR><BR>After watching his crew for a moment, Falas beckoned to his first mate. Nenorn strode over to his captain, ready to carry out any and all orders Falas wished. For Falas was a good captain, loved and admired by all of those lower in status. He was very serious most of the time, though he was seen in mirth occasionally by those who were close to him. Nenorn had been his close friend since their childhood, and so had witnessed Falas in all sorts of moods. Falas’ current mood, he perceived, was a contemplative one. This was proven true through Falas’ following words, spoken in a quiet voice, accompanied by a furrowed brow and a soft frown.<BR><BR>“Nenorn, you know more of my brother’s labors than I do. Do you find him sufficiently suited for this crew?”<BR><BR>Nenorn followed his captain’s gaze, his eyes resting on Thinsûl. The younger elf was sitting on a barrel, issuing orders to the hardworking sailors around him, who were eyeing him with disdain. He looked up and noticed Falas and Nenorn watching him. Quickly standing up, he picked up a small chest of silver jewelry, and hefting it under one arm, walked lazily across a plank towards the dock. Nenorn chuckled a little and turned back to Falas. “Well, he certainly has a lot to learn, but I think he holds promise.”<BR><BR>“Do you?” Falas asked softly, still watching his brother. “It is possible, to be sure, but you are certainly right, he does need to learn many more things. Courtesy not being the least on the list.”<BR>Nenorn laughed once again. “He’ll be alright, Falas, don’t worry so much.” The first mate took a gulp of water from a flask and sighed satisfactorilly. “I think they’re about finished. What do you say we go meet with your father. I’m sure he’s interested to know how your travels were and-“<BR><BR>Falas raised a hand to silence Nenorn. “Where has Thinsûl gone?” he said abruptly, glancing about. <BR><BR>Nenorn frowned. “I don’t know. He was just here, I saw him come back twice more to help unload cargo. Always light objects of course...” he added with a wry smile. <BR><BR>Falas ignored his friend’s comment.“Though his laziness can be abided for now, completely shirking his duties cannot. Finish overseeing things here. I’m going to find my brother.”<BR><BR>Nenorn sighed. He almost felt sorry for Thinsûl, knowing that he was to receive a harsh lecture from his brother and captain. <BR><BR>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<BR><BR>Falas paced through the streets of Avallonë, searching every corner and alleyway for his brother. Thinsûl was only one hundred years his junior, yet he acted like a five hundred-year-old. Falas and Thinsûl had never been very compatible, yet their father wished them to grow closer. That was probably why their father had suggested that Falas take his brother on as a crew member of his ship. Falas had complied with his father’s wishes, but was now regretting that decision.<BR><BR>Falas turned a corner and caught sight of the one he sought behind a blacksmith shop. He couldn’t help but notice that his brother was not alone. He was in the company of an elven maiden, one who Falas couldn’t help but notice was stunningly beautiful. Falas sighed. He should have known his brother would be up to something such as this. Striding forward, Falas cleared his throat loudly, gaining the attention of the two elves. They had been deep in conversation, but at the sound the maiden turned around, surprised, while Thinsûl stood tall and glared at the cause of the intrusion. He walked up to Falas. “May I ask, </i>Captain, <i>what you are doing here?”<BR><BR>Falas ignored the sarcasm in his brother’s voice and spoke sharply, his anger evident. “May</i> I <i>ask, Brother, what </i>you <i>are doing here? You did not ask for leave to depart.”<BR><BR>Thinsûl shrugged. “The unloading was almost finished, so I assumed...”<BR><BR>“You assumed? You do not assume anything while on my ship. You take orders, you do as you are told. If you are unsure of something, you ask, but you do not assume.” Thinsûl opened his mouth to retort, but was stopped by Falas’ next tirade of words. “You will go back to the ship and see if any more of your help is needed. Once the work is completed, you will clean all the lower decks until they shine like moonlight on still waters, is that clear?”<BR>He could tell Thinsûl wished to throw in a snide comment or two, but the blonde-haired, fierce-eyed elf knew better. With a look of apology aimed at the maiden who stood behind him, and a final glare at Falas, Thinsûl took his leave. <BR><BR>There was a momentary silence between the two elves left behind the blacksmith shop, but it was finally broken by Falas. He looked at the maiden, who seemed rather flustered. “I’m sorry you had to bear witness to that,” he said apologetically. <BR><BR>The young she-elf looked up. “Oh, it’s alright. I hadn’t realized Thinsûl had not completed his duties. He failed to mention that detail.”<BR><BR>Falas half-smiled. “Yes, he fails to mention a lot of things. Including you.”<BR><BR>The maiden blushed slightly. “You mean, he...he hasn’t mentioned me at all?”<BR><BR>“No,” Falas replied, growing more intrigued. How long had his brother been seeing this maiden? And where ever did he find such a jewel? “May I ask you your name, since my brother has neglected to inform me of it?”<BR><BR>The maiden smiled. “Of course. My name is Silaurë.”<BR><BR>Falas nodded respectfully. “I am pleased to meet you, Silaurë. My brother will probably be awhile, so I don’t advise you to wait for him tonight. Would you like me to escort you home?” <BR><BR>“I appreciate your offer, but my home is not far,” Silaurë answered. “It was pleasing to meet you as well, and I hope to see you around the city, now that your voyage is over.”<BR><BR>Falas smiled. “I would like that as well.” Raising his hand in a gesture of farewell, he turned to go. “Numarië.” <BR><BR>The auburn-haired maiden waved, then turned onto a sidestreet, quickly disappearing in the growing twilight. Falas’ eyes followed her until they could see her no more, and then he turned away and began walking the short distance to the small palace in the center of the city. He needed to speak with his father.<BR>
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Postby Me-elf » Sun Nov 16, 2003 2:30 pm

Gwathrenethir did not wait for the next day, as she had said. Not long after Jaera had gone the Elf stood up, saying that she would not be gone long, and went back to the settlement of Elves. She went boldly up to the door of the cottage and it was opened by Denkar, who looked at her with extreme disapproval.<BR>"What do you want?" he asked unkindly.<BR>"To ask what it is you want," said Gwathrenethir. "Why do you hold back those who want most to go with us?"<BR>"Because it is not in our nature to follow the call of the Undying Lands. We do not want it."<BR>"But you cannot dictate what your daughter wants, and perhaps her desire is to go with us to Valinor," said Gwathrenethir gently.<BR>"No. I have told you no once and the next time I will drive you away by force. Leave my doorstep and be gone," Denkar retorted. Gwathrenethir backed away slowly, a little sad that words alone would not dissuade the iron Elf. They would have to remove Jaera by force.<BR><BR>Gwathrenethir returned to the camp and called to Keme. <BR>"We will not be able to get that young Elf out of there by words alone. Keme, you must create a diversion as a wolf, so they will not suspect us. I will go to the cottage when Denkar and his Lady have come out to see what is going on and tell Jaera we must leave now. If she will come, we will take this to mean Eru has willed it. If not, then He has not. Now, make ready to fly with all speed towards Bree. We ride again today."
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