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15. Wind-Singers Volume I: The Hunt; Cellindien and Ioristion search for artifacts in ruins across Eriador
Topic Started: May 23 2014, 08:00 PM (1,309 Views)
Ioristion

Chapter XLI: Dreams

That night, in the safety of Meluinen, Ioristion began to dream. The present confines of the world, of time and place, faded. He turned the corner, and swished his cloak behind him. He beheld a great vale, filled with fields, and a shining white city in the center upon the brow of a tall and majestic hill. He crossed the fields. He recognized Gondolin from his uncle's descriptions. It seemed real to him. And he climbed the streets in wonder at its architecture. At the pinnacle stood the Citadel, and he entered. And there, sitting upon the Throne of Turgon, was Rostor Macil, as bright and beaming as he had remembered him.

"So you have come."

Ioristion stood puzzled, "I have. Is this a vision, or a mere dream?"

"Why not both."

"Is this real, or fantasy?"

"Fantasy, but this does not imply it is not real."

"Are you in Mandos, brother?"

"You will never know if this is real or fiction. Nor shall it matter, in the end."

"Within what end, my beloved brother?"

"When I embrace you in Tol Eressea, the reality or un-reality of this conversation shall not matter."

"I miss thy great embrace..."

"Come," and he stood, wrapping him in his cloak, intertwining the two in a deep embrace. He kissed him on the cheek, "Ioristion... my dear Ioristion... you must keep safe my betrothed for me, your sister..."

"And will you not appear to her?"

"That is not for you to know, my brother."

"Oh Rostor... Macil... my brother..."

"Your foe might well take my guise, so be prepared."

"What mean you?"

"He may indeed approach you in a vision such as this, or worse."

"And how do I know that you are not he?"

"You do not know. That is why you must be cautious, and not so willing to enter into my embrace. He may transform the cloak into wings and his teeth to fangs, like the servants of the Lieutenant of old, and then he may transform into a warg and proceed to devour you with no method of escape. Then, once he has had his way with you, he may finally kill you. Be prepared and well aware."

"This dream.... it is vivid.... how can this conversation not be real?"

"It might be your own subconscious mind, telling you what you already know."

"But it is so... vivid... and so important..."

"And who can guess at the Will of Eru Iluvatar? In this regard alone, it might be well spurred on by Him, and then it is therefore real, for He hath willed it so."

"My brother...... very well. I believe you. Pray, do not leave me yet. Let me rest in thy strong arms, fictitious though they may be."

And Macil smiled. They held their embrace for what seemed an eternity, and Ioristion gradually awoke, beholding the refuge around him. He bowed his head and cried, in sadness for Macil's death, and in joy, for he believed that he had spoken with him. The stars had faded and the sun began to rise, when he stepped out of the building in which he found his rest.

He looked for Cellindien.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:21 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLII: Dawn at the Refuge

The wind rushed through the hillside brush nigh the slopes that plunged into the marsh of Meluinen. And in the midst of the marsh stood a fair glade, in which several Elvish buildings were concealed from sight. Ioristion arose from his dream and stepped outside, feeling the cool southern wind brush against his cheek and frame his hair. He look around. Most of the others in the refuge remained asleep. He saw his sister standing, staring at a small pond in the midst of the refuge, beneath a willow tree.

"Do you fare well, my sister?"

The wind rushed north and billowed Ioristion's golden hair. Cellindien looked at him closely, Well enough. And you? Are you better rested?"
Ioristion looked abroad and laughed, "Surprise, surprise. I had a vivid dream in the middle hours of the night." His expression turned serious,
"I....I do not know if it was a real vision, or from my mind..... or from Lorien himself..... I saw....... I traveled across great vast fields, surrounded by tall snow-capped peaks....... and in the center was a great hill, with a city of white stone upon it....."

Cellindien sighed, "Again, another dream. I would pay for a week of uninterrupted sleep..."

Ioristion's eyes glared as he seemed to shake, "...I....I saw him........ Rostor..... he sat upon the High-King's Throne........ he.... he embraced me, we conversed........
And he warned me...... he warned me that our enemy might take his form within a vision...... he told me to beware, and not so eager to embrace him so...... imaginary though he may seem......
Of course, it was all a dream."

It was difficult for Ioristion to read Cellindien when she said, "Of course."

Ioristion sighed, "But even if some power beyond our keen sent it, or even if they did not...... I believe we should heed it."

Cellindien seemed concerned, "You are the one who embraced him, not I. I will be honest with you, brother. These continued visions and dreams concern me... it is if you are too open to influence."

Ioristion bowed, "Perhaps....... this was such a warning. Very well. Now we should determine what we shall do next. Angmar is to the northeast, but there were many fell things there.... and I would hate to disturb anything that should not be disturbed. Grave shadows crossed the fields of Fornost....."

Cellindien waited for his decision, one eyebrow raised.

Ioristion smiled with a strange gleam in his eyes, "I believe the time has come to explore old Cardolan. The rangers do not patrol it as oft as they do Arthedain. Let us ride forth." He mounted his horse.

Cellindien mounted her horse, "Very well."

They passed away from the refuge, like phantoms, as swiftly as they came. They did not know if others in the refuge viewed them as wayward, absurd, or strange...
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:21 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLIII: The Mysterious Isle of Nen Harn

They rode through parts of Taur Gonwaith, wary of the trolls, who feared the light of the sun. They crossed over rocky terrain, and made their way along the shoreline of Nen Harn, a great, glistening lake that marked the eastern-northern boundary between the North Downs and Breeland. They sped swiftly past the glistening waters of the lake that flickered white and sky-blue in the light of the morning sun.

When they reached the bending of the lake into the Chetwood, Ioristion suddenly paused and gazed northwest, "I see something...."

Cellindien followed his gaze, "An enemy?"

Ioristion suddenly removed his fine-velvet robe and cloak, the former of which was slightly travel-stained. He wore a light tunic with a pair of shorter trousers underneath.

Cellindien looked at him, then at the water: "Ah... Must we...?"

Ioristion muttered to himself strangely, ...something strange about that isle......"

Cellindien laughed to herself and reluctantly followed him, "So we're going to see it, of course."

The waters of Nen Harn were frigid. They flowed from a river that stretched to the Baranduin, far to the west. And this in turn was fed by the waters of Lake Nenuial, which sprung from the northern Even-Rills that were fed by ice from Forochel. This was not at all to Ioristion's liking. He swam as fast as he could. He stood upon the shores of the isle, his teeth chattering from the cold. He began to run, the water felt even more like ice. He dove onto the ground and began rolling in the grass as Cellindien completed her swim. He stood, not wishing to embarrass himself further. Cellindien said nothing. Ioristion pressed forward with his soggy staff, Cellindien guarding the rear, and they found themselves in the midst of a great copse of trees, with four broken walls of old Arnorian stone framing it in the shape of a square. In the center stood a fallen tree, and near it was an old and ancient stump.

Ioristion pressed forward, "These ruins....."

Cellindien followed him, and looked about, "Whatever this place was, it was quite large. Do you know it, Ioristion?"

Ioristion smiled, "It might have been an estate...."

Cellindien climbed to the top of nearby slope and looked over the entire ruin.

Ioristion began feeling the bark of the stump. He discerned a crevice. He outstretched his left hand within, feeling deeper within the crevice.

Cellindien pulled a knife from her belt and offered it to him, "Here. Spare your hands."

Ioristion muttered, "Someone hid something here...... thank you." He began clearing the interior of the crevice with the knife, striking a harder element.

Cellindien sat down, "That is what I'm here for..."

Ioristion heaved at the object, "So someone did indeed hide something here..... perhaps this was a courtyard...... but why hide it here and not in a different vault? A hidden.... unsuspecting place..... what is this...." He suddenly pulled forth a golden necklace with a large, orb-shaped receptacle. He began picking at the latch with the knife, awe growing in his eyes.

Cellindien was quite surprised as she did not actually expect him to find anything, "The ruins are quite old. Perhaps the trees came afterwards and the hole was made then... what?! What is it?"

The latch opened: a great jewel of white splendour, shining, as with an interior light.

Cellindien breathed in sharply, "It is beautiful..."

Ioristion examined it in shock and awe, "I...I...... was this a gift...... was this lord from Numenor? That is the only way I can discern such an object coming to this place....... a gift from Tol Eressea could have come to one of the Faithful who followed Elendil.... why, it is the only thing I can think....... No Elf of Glorfindel's following would have parted with it here....... not with the North Kingdom in tatters..... Take it, my sister. It has come to you now."

Cellindien seemed reluctant, "What? No. I have no use for such things... it will only get in the way and attract attention."

And Ioristion remembered what Rostor told him in his dream, "I have a hunch....I cannot explain why.... but it may have properties we have not yet discerned......"

Cellindien reluctantly accepted the necklace, "Your hunches will be the death of me."

Ioristion smiled, "I am prone to dreams....... but you are stronger...... We will discern its power when we reach safer lands. We should return to shore, before brigands steal my cloak."

He laughed as he ran, Cellindien following him, and he dove head-first into the frigid waters of Nen Harn once more. They reached the shore.
Ioristion sighed with relief, "And here they are..."

Cellindien retrieved her own cloak, "Fortunately for both of us."

Ioristion smirked, hiding himself in a nearby bush, "You may wish to glance the other way...."

Cellindien rolled her eyes and did so.

Ioristion changed into his drier clothes, and came out of the bush, clad in his dusty velvet and gleaming golden cloak once more:
"That is better. Now, to the southwest....."

Cellindien smiled, "You and your luxuries. My clothes will dry quickly enough."

Ioristion smirked, "I am my father's son after all."

Cellindien grinned, "No son ever isn't."

They sped across the plains of northern Bree-land and avoided the woods of Northern Chetwood. They remained outside of the line of sight of any farmers, and they made their way into the vale of the Greenway. They avoided the road, for Ioristion warned: "We must avoid the mortals, for we may frighten them." And so they passed nigh the waters of the Starmere Lake at the hour of Noon, and swept downward into the vast and empty plains that stretched before them. The walls of the borders of old Cardolan came into sight, and they passed beyond them, creeping along the trees of the Old Forest, and then the stark, grey cliffs of the Barrow-Downs.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:21 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLIV: The Dreadful Mists of Cardolan

They followed the cliffs until, finally, they gave way to a dark and dreadful pass into the mist.
Ioristion gazed into the darkened mist, "Cardolan..... this fog is strange...."

Their horses neighed and Ioristion spoke in old Sindarin to calm them, "Cîl Îdh, Galroch" They pressed forward as the mists surrounded them. Their horses were in great fear.
Ioristion sighed at the entrance of the an Barrow that ominously appeared in the mists before them: "Well, we know our duty....."

He tied their steeds to a nearby column, and spoke words: "Let none then touch these brave steeds, lest thy spirit falter into a grave abyss."

They passed beneath the horrid archway and into a dark hall that stretched before them.
Ioristion sniffed, gasping, "This place has a rancorous air...."

They passed slowly through the hall, and Ioristion felt something sticky on his hands: a strong and large thread of a spider's web.

A fog began to grow behind them.

Cellindien turned to see the ominous fog, "Brother! Beware!"

Ioristion's eyes grew wide with fear, "Drat, here we are trapped.... my enthusiasm was not wisdom......"

A wailing voice can be heard, "Cold be heart and hand and bone...."

Ioristion shouted, "Ai! It is chilling!"

Cellindien tightened her grip on her sword.

Ioristion suddenly bolted down the halls and deeper into the Barrow. Cellindien chased after him. Ioristion stopped short, as large spiders came out of hiding. He bashed at the spiders with his staff and continued to run. He made his way up a narrow stair. He heard slashing and spiders quailing.

Cellindien sighed, "Whatever you do, do not go running off again! We must stay together."

They passed into a wide hall filled with spiders' webs and turned around. The fog had reached the top of the stairs. Ioristion hid himself, thrusting his body against a nearby wall.

He gripped his staff, "Whoever you may be, come forth! Naru gwath aur!"

A flickering, ghostly light could be seen, hovering in the distance. It turned and began to move away. They followed it down the stairs.

Then the voice spoke: "I shalt bury thee!"

Cellindien shouted, "Thou shalt not!"

Findikano's voice rose over the turmoil, "Halt, vile creature."

The apparition of the Elf-lord was barely visible in the fog, a flickering phantasm, not unlike their foe.

Ioristion's heart blazed, "Fingon! Why are you....."

The spirit of Findikano wailed, "Something has aroused these spirits......Run!"

They charged down the halls as the fog enveloped them even deeper. With a great crash, and the sound of screaming, they escaped.

Ioristion breathed heavily, "These powers.... we must be wary of them....."

Cellindien dropped on one knee as they breathed fresh air, "Once again, I must doubt your sanity..."

The horses were attempting to bolt wildly from their bonds, but Ioristion calmed them once more. The two Elves stood, brother and sister, lost in the midst of the endless fog.

A voice whispered in their ears, "You must not search every barrow....... I have sensed a power in one alone..... a power for good, surrounded by shadow....."

Findikano's voice could be barely heard, uttering a rhyme: "I call now here, fear and willow, I call the song in distance hear, come to us, if need be near"

Ioristion pointed in a direction, following a great hunch that arose suddenly in his mind, "To the south then...."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:21 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLV: In the Darkness of a Great Barrow

They moved forward in the mist with care, guiding their horses on foot through the terrible mists, clasping each others' hands. Ioristion could sense the Spirit was following them, and not hiding within the Staff per usual. The ground steadily began to rise, the aged path growing taller, until it curved twice through the stones. Frightful images of pillars and old tombs could be seen barely in the distance through the fog. They descended the pass. They had entered the Southern Barrow-Downs. They crept silently through the fog. Ioristion began to remember tales he had once heard in the Hall of the Leaves of Laurelin, and wondered why he had forgotten them: his madness.

They passed down into the shadows of a horrid, shallow pool of pale green, the rancid waters lapping upon fell shores. A large barrow yawned before them. Ioristion bound the horses once more, whispering to them calmly.

They entered through the ruined archway into a chamber that began to wind down a flight of broad steps to the right and then to the left. Ioristion peered around the corner, staring deep into the halls, his eyes growing wide with fear, "There are many foes within this cave......."

Cellindien's eyes stared undaunted, "Flesh? Flesh we can match."

Ioristion gazed further into the crypt, "They are not of the flesh."

Cellindien grimaced in disgust and loosened her sword in its sheath,
"And we must pass through them?"

"We can out-run them. Hurry!"

They dashed through the seemingly empty halls. There were small gatherings of mist gathering on the floors of the halls behind them. They grew as the sounds of ancient and fell voices stirred from them.

The voice echoed in Ioristion's mind as they passed through a wide, rectangular hall, and began to ascend a spiral stair to their right, "It is near..."

They reached the top of the stair and passed into a wide space, and Ioristion shuddered, preparing with his staff.

The two Elves sneaked past the turmoil that was beginning to ensue in the halls nearby and climbed a stair at the eastern end of the wide hall, and maneuvered their way around in a balcony that stretched around the entire chamber. They reached the northwestern section, and Ioristion began impulsively heaving at a gigantic sarcophagus, its lid etched with the memory and resting carving of an ancient lord.

Ioristion shouted, "Help me, my sister... I think it is in here...."

Cellindien nodded and moved beside him.

Ioristion struggled to haul the lid off the sarcophagus.
Cellindien added her strength and slowly the lid began to move,
"I only hope we do not regret this..."

They could hear the sounds of the voices growing closer.
Cellindien shouted, "Hurry!"

Ioristion pushed and shoved harder. The lid finally collapsed on the ground. Beneath were the remains of an aged prince.
Ioristion grimly reached beneath the remains, bringing forth an ancient, glimmering orb.

Cellindien grimaced, "There. We have it..."

The sounds of the voices reached the stairs. Ioristion nodded,
"We must halt our awe and wonder. We have to get out of here! Run!"

They ran as fast as they could, the Dead in pursuit, the fog surging through the halls. But Ioristion began chanting in ancient Quenya as they ran, warding the Dead. They charged through an old and ruined hall, and then down another corridor, and, sighting the path to the entrance, they charged, breathing heavily, and in great haste. They departed from the Barrow freed the horses. They ran and climbed away from the rancid pool.

Ioristion sighed, "We should retreat from these fields, lest we be lost in them forever....."

Cellindien smiled, "You are truly mad..."

They rode in haste across the fields, and found themselves trapped in Ost Gorthad. They charged as the spirits of the Dead prepared their assault, and they passed through several ancient courtyards, until finally they darted through a cave. The cavern dipped and turned and twisted, and then a blinding light could be seen down the passage: the light of the Sun. They charged through it, and the voices of the Dead subsided, until finally, they ceased.

Ioristion pointed to the vale below, and began scanning the ruins to the south, "Andrath.... There are many brigands down below...... the main passage south has been blocked.......
we should continue on the eastern journey."

Cellindien eyed the brigands and wearily turned her horse around. Ioristion listened closer, as if reconsidering,
"Yet.... wait..... Sharkey? What do they.... no..... we cannot go down there..... these are the Second-Born.....
I would become as guilty as Feanorians, and so would you. Come."

They passed away out of sight of the ruins, and they avoided the town of Bree. Their stock of provisions remained strong, for the Elves of Meluinen had aided them in secret. They passed through the Chetwood, avoiding Ost Baranor for the presence of brigands, and they crossed north, around the Midgewater Marshes. They avoided the woodsmen of Bree-land. They turned south once more, and sighted a pass. They followed the small river into the Lonelands.
Edited by Ioristion, Jan 1 2015, 06:01 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLVI: The Pass of Gondrinn and the Weather Hills

A ring of old ruins appeared before them. Ioristion paused to study them, but could find little signs of activity. As Ioristion and Cellindien moved down the pass, someone was spying upon them. The spy thought back to Imladris:

"No, Mother, I will go, and I will find him. Melimwe's note was clear!"

"My son, I forbid it! You are only sixty years of age, you are too young to journey alone!"

"I am obedient, and I honor you, Mother... but I feel something within me... something draws me to find them."

"You sound as mad as your father. At least travel with Cullastor as an escort."

"Two are too many, Mother. I will find them, I will be safe."

"You have never left the vale before."

"I am well trained, and I have ventured even as far south as the Enedwaith without your knowledge."

"My son! Fine, but remain as careful as you may. I would fall into deep and unending grief should anything happen to you."

"I will be fine. I must depart anon."

And so the spy went to the stables of Rivendell, obtaining his fair steed of a grey coat that glistened ghostly in the light of the morning sun, and with one final glance at the pinnacle of the winding pass out of the Vale of Imladris, gazing at the Last Homely House East of the Sea so far below, he turned away, vanishing from sight. He concealed his crimson garments in a dusty traveling cloak. He wound his way down the High Moor, and crossed the Ford. He stayed on the road, his hood concealing his face. He was certain to depart the Trollshaws as soon as he may. One night, he drew his sword. He heard the sounds of rough stomping approaching the road. He hid himself near several rocks,

"Wat that... horsey! Better than mutton! We'll cook 'em good!"

The spy's sword swiftly impaled the troll in the rear, the troll screamed and throbbed, weakening the spy's arms, crushing its weight upon him, and the spy scowled as he returned his blade. The troll was not yet done. Black blood spurted everywhere. He swung with his club, gagging and spitting. The spy moved swiftly to avoid it. The troll vomited, and the spy ran with his horse and supplies. He turned back: there lay the troll, collapsed in his own refuse. Its arm still twitched. Its other arm clawed. It roared. It was incapacitated, but not defeated. The spy sighed, seeking a nearby spring near the road, washing his sword and salving it with elven oils with a fairer scent. He did not want his sword to reek of troll-dung. His cloaks had been partly mired in troll-blood. He washed them as well. His arms ached. He heard the heavy breathing of the approaching troll. He mounted his horse and galloped for his life.

He hid himself more carefully on the following nights as he maneuvered his way through the Trollshaws. He heard war-drums in the distance. An entire tribe of trolls was aroused. The spy rode his horse as fast as he could, whispering Sindarin phrases to aid its morale, and they crossed the Last Bridge. He made his way up to several ruins and continued. Heeventually reached Weathertop. The spy looked abroad, and spotted a familiar gleam of gold in the Midgewater Pass. He wished to inspect it closer.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crystalline waters of the river glistened in the light of the morning sun. The Gondrinn Pass that stretched from the Midgewater dipped down into a small gorge through which flowed the river at a ford. Ioristion dipped his steed's head down to drink.

Cellindien dismounted and did the same, keeping watch.

Ioristion pulled the orb out of his robes, gazing at it, "Strange..... How did this find its way into such a bleak and horrid place....."

Cellindien gazed in his direction, "At some point the place must not have been so bleak and horrid..."

Ioristion sat down at the edge of the waters, gazing into the orb intently.

Cellindien sat down as well and removed the necklace from where she had it hidden and swung it back and forth like a pendulum.
She looked away from it to Ioristion, watching his face carefully, "Do you see anything?"

Ioristion studied it carefully, "It is certainly not one of the Palantiri........ and yet it swirls with such..... strange powers...."

Cellindien moved closer to look at the orb for herself, "Perhaps it is better not to gaze. We have spoken of this before..."

Ioristion shuddered as he began to see a dark shape beneath the swirls, hearing the voice: "Hide yourselves at once."

He dropped the stone, "Beneath our cloaks, hurry!" He wisks the vast cloak over both of their bodies, hiding their heads beneath it.

Cellindien mumbled an oath and does the same, ensuring that he is fully covered before going still.

Ioristion felt the soft, smooth, sleek fabric cool his face, and he felt safe. Still, fear was growing in his heart of the stone.

Then Ioristion heard the voice, whispering softly, "It has vanished. Conceal it."

Ioristion felt for it, quickly rolling it into a velvet sack,
"Strange....... was that..... that..... we must not reveal it again, not yet..... these are strange powers....."

Cellindien scowled, "Ioristion... it is by the Valar's own goodness that you yet walk Middle-earth."

Ioristion removed the cloak, "I am naive, this is true. Come, let us look abroad. There is a place near at hand I wish to visit."

Cellindien shook out her own cloak in frustration, "Naivette is excusable. This is getting to be ridiculous..."

Ioristion had already mounted and started riding, as if driven.

Cellindien began to mount as well, shouting: "Ioristion!"

They hurried along through several rocky ravines, and so came to a road of ancient stones marked with the Arnorian Star.

Ioristion smiled solemnly, "Yes..... this is the old road.... we are following in Rostor's footsteps once again...."

They wound around and up a smaller hill, Echad Sul, and they looked south. There, upon a far larger hill-top, stood a ring of ruins. He pointed into the distance, "This Tower was once larger, tall and domed..... It was here that Elendil awaited Gil-galad's arrival.... the arrival of our Host..."

They ascended Weathertop. The path wound round and around through ancient stones, with the visages of old statues staring out of the cliff-sides. They reached the ruins at the peak, and came to a small landing beneath the eastern section of the ring. They climbed down to it. The Royal Road stretched before them, winding through the plains and hills of the Lonelands far below.

Ioristion shed a tear, "This road once led to the most terrifying of wars.......... and not since the onset of my madness have I seen this place...."

Cellindien spoke prophetically, "Now the road leads us to a continuation of that war. That war should have ended it..."

Ioristion sighed, "Yes... it should have so....."

Cellindien sighed, it is difficult not to think of the last time she stood here, blind to the fact that Rostor was near to her once again, "This time we'll end it."

Ioristion smiled, "And so shall we forth again........"

A thought passed across Ioristion's mind, which troubled him, "He never told you he had sisters, did he?"
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 11:19 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLVII: An Absent-Minded Marriage

Cellindien gazed at him, "Sisters...? He... may have. I never had the luxury of meeting his family.
And I had other concerns in those days."

Ioristion stretched a fold of his cloak around her right shoulder, "My sister...... you have freed me from my madness..... and did not save only me.....
But I do not know how to tell you......."

Cellindien recognized his movement and closed her eyes, "You have another secret to tell me. Speak it, speak it now and speak it clearly..."

Ioristion bowed, "When Rostor and I dwelt in Eregion, he dwelt with his sisters: Rostoriel and Rirossel. They had tried to save him from despair, for years.
And for our mutual efforts, Rostoriel and I...we...... fell in love...... And though we were wed, we behaved as brother and sister when near to him....
... and it gave him hope.... But then, the days of peace were ended. Rostoriel remained in Lindon. We marched to war.
I do not remember much further after this, save for scattered memories, and one moment...... Although I was still mad, I began to recover some sense of wit....
.. and, nine months passed us by...... my son Alcano was born sixty years ago.... But she kept him away from me, she did not wish for him to be raised on madness...
.. and I was content to seek more ruins, estranged and mad....."

Cellindien pressed her palms together and held her fingers to her lips, eyes still shut.

Ioristion continued, the pains of guilt within his voice: "They dwell in Imladris. My son must truly be old enough to wield a sword.....
.. apparently Melimwe held Rostoriel's heart intact...... He told me so........
When you meet them, you shall have sisters..... and a nephew......."

Cellindien sighed heavily, "A wife and son. You have a family, Ioristion... a young son. You have no business peering into dark orbs. Your family needs you..."

Ioristion sighed deeper, "And if I should forsake my family to the wrath of Guldrambor...........? Is this what I should do?"

Cellindien retorted, "There are others who can take up your task... others who do not have a beloveds... or children."

Ioristion would not relent, "Imladris, crumbled beneath his wrath, Rostoriel broken upon the rocks, Alcano falling into shadow?
Alcano is no longer a child."

Cellindien laughed bitterly.

Ioristion glared into her eyes, "In fact, he is the same age as you and Rostor were when you became betrothed....."

Cellindien retorted, "He is a child. We were children..."

They heard a voice behind them that startled them, and Ioristion shook as he heard a voice: "I am not as young as you would think!"
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:22 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLVIII: Alcano Ioristion

The spy finally revealed himself. He had tracked them since Gondrinn, watching their movements. He was curious and wished to study the silver-haired elleth from a distance. Then, he knew who she was. He tossed his dusty traveling cloak into his sack, revealing his cloak of crimson silk, his light elvish-chain-mail, and his long flowing reddish hair. His mail was still dusty from his traveling. He had washed his cloak in the spring in the Trollshaws of the troll-blood. And the sun glistened in his hair. He seemed the image of Macil. Yet the features of Ioristion were present as well within his fair face. They were combined: the lines of Alcon and Rostor.

Ioristion was startled, looking up behind them, "Is that really you, my son? What brings you to such a desolate place?"

Alcano youthfully smirked, "Mother found Melimwe's little letter....... I came on my own accord. A child, my aunt? Well, then you must truly be a great-grand-aunt!"

Cellindien smiled slowly, painfully, "Yes... I suppose I must be. His face, Ioristion... Rostor's line is clear."

Alcano playfully laughed, "So ancient...... so old........, how can you even carry such a shield?" He leaped down onto the rocks beside them.

Ioristion became perturbed, "That is quite a lip you have, my son!"

Cellindien smirked, "It is because I grow stronger with age... as does an oak, sapling."

Alcano laughed again, "As flamboyant as yours? Come, father, twirl your cloak for me! Sapling? Sapling?"

Ioristion shuddered, "That is quite enough, Alcano.... my madness has ended."

Alcano jabbed, "Not that of my Mother!"

Cellindien, in an aside to herself, "Valar preserve us... now there are two of them."

Alcano did not relent, "Three thousand years later........."

Ioristion accidentally twirled his cloak in an annoyed flourish, its gold shimmering in the light of the sun. They did not notice the brigands in the ruins far below, scratching their heads, and some growing curious. Alcano saw them, but did not state anything. He wanted to prove himself.

Cellindien pointed, "Hah!"

Alcano playfully jeered, "Ah ha! Your madness remains, Ada. Now, a sapling cannot wield a sword. Watch this!"

Ioristion waved his hands, "Now, my son, place that thing away......."

Alcano pointed his sword in Cellindien's direction, "I challenge you to a sparring match."

Ioristion shouted, "I forbid it!"

Cellindien watched him, concern rising in her eyes, "This is not the place for such things. It is dangerous."

Alcano did not seem to hear her, "Put up your sword, Finlos, beloved of the legendary Rostor!"
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 10:24 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter XLIX: A Duel on an Edge

Alcano began impulsively lunging at Cellindien's shield. The brigands began sneaking around toward Echad Sul.

Cellindien immediately positioned herself between him and the cliff, "Alcano! Stop!"

Alcano laughed, "Come, now, legendary Guardian of the Fount! I must prove myself to you!"
He stepped backward, his sword pointed outward.

Cellindien tried to reason with him, "Prove yourself wise and sheath your sword!
To play on a cliff is to play with death. I will not spar with you!"

Alcano remained ignorant, "But such a noble Guardian must not fear such a cliff!"

Cellindien's eyes darkened, "I do not fear death, but I will not hasten to it when a job remains. Now is not the time for this.
Ioristion! Look to your son!"

Alcano suddenly leaped in on her, his sword pointing at her chest, "And now the sapling has won."
Alcano retreated, sheathing his sword, "Youth know how to contend with distracting wits."

Cellindien did not move, "Victory against one who did not fight back? How noble, sapling."

Ioristion, still agasp at the entire situation, stammered, "So you have managed to prove that lunging head-first into the field of battle
is a viable option when faced with seemingly impossible odds. Do you know what happened to the one hundred soldiers who followed that method?"

Alcano smirked, "She did not fight back because she was lecturing him. And I suppose, if we face this Dark Lord everyone is so fearful of,
we should stand around and listen to his lecture before we assail him. Or, perhaps we should strick at him while he is speaking in such
vain words, and defeat him soundly. Who is the sapling now?"

Cellindien was not amused, "You. Wipe that smirk off of your face. You have proven nothing but your own arrogance."

Alcano suddenly seized the Staff of Findekano, Ioristion's jaw-line dropping, "And now I have seized the opportunity."
His hand began to feel extremely cold, he dropped the staff.

Ioristion frowned, "Conclude your antics. Do it..... for your brave hero of an ancestor."
He reclaimed the staff.

Alcano sighed, "Very well Ada...... I am glad that you are freed from madness...... although you were less prone to such..... old behavior! Why...... very well.
But I will not sit on the side-lines of this war! I will avenge my uncle's death, or I will perish trying!
This is my path...... this is my way..... and none will stand against it."

Cellindien looked to Ioristion, "Conceived in madness, you say? I see it in him."

Ioristion sighed, "Alas, it may prove true."

Cellindien spoke sincerely, "I hope that he may never go through the same cure."

Alcano shifted, suddenly embracing Cellindien, "Oh Finlos......... beautiful Finlos........ of my father's tales........."

Cellindien started, her eyes wide and her arms pinned awkwardly to her sides, "...What?! Stop. I left that name behind... unhand me!"

Ioristion laughed, "I think it would prove wise not to disappoint him, he is your nephew after all......"

Cellindien broke free and did her best to keep Alcano at arm's length, "I will not be called by that name, not the least by him!"

Alcano sighed, stumbling backward, "But am I not so similar to the Rostor of your dreams....???"

Cellindien stated firmly, "You are..." Then not so firmly, "...not." Then, decidely, "You are a sapling."

Ioristion sighed, "Alcano, enough! It is a fortnight's journey to Imladris and I will not see an aunt and her nephew at each other's throats."
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Ioristion

Chapter L: The Brigands Advance

Alcano stared her down, "Call me a sapling again........"

Cellindien gave him a meaningful look, "Call me Finlos again...."

Alcano suddenly rushed forward, with a surprise and hasty kiss on her lips, then he dashed for the rocks and began climbing down Weathertop in haste.

Ioristion's eyes glared, "That was..... get back here you rascal of an Elf!"

Alcano smirked mischievously, and continued to run.

Cellindien eyes widened and at first she seemed angry, but as she watched the two scurry down the rocks she shook her head and began to laugh.
After a minute she made her way down after them. The brigands had compromised their position. They had begun climbing around the other side of Weathertop.

Alcano shouted playfully, "Oh Finlos.... my love...... oh Finlos..... I shall avenge thee, to Eregion!"

Ioristion shuddered, "Who taught you your manners?"

Alcano laughed as he ran, "Why, I learned these lines from you!"

Ioristion gave chase, "You undisciplined.....!!!!!!!"

Cellindien laughed, "And whose fault is that, exactly?"

Naerost came into site: an old ruined fortress where the majority of the brigands were encamped. Ioristion suddenly ceased to run, "Wait, Alcano, stop. These ruins ahead are occupied!"

He turned around to see brigands climbing down the brow of Weathertop.

Ioristion muttered, "No, they have seen us! Quickly, you ridiculous. On my horse, quick! We should have more wisdom than this!"

Now the horses bred by the Eldar were of higher intelligence, through their breeding methods and their treatment. The steeds that had been left at the pinnacle of Weathertop had heard the brigands coming. They sensed their approach as danger, for they did not emit the peaceful feelings of the Eldar. And so the steeds crossed down on the shorter path down the Hill, and circled around the bottom. They felt the presence of the Elves growing closer, until they found them across a short plain at the foot of the Hill. They quickly mounted their steeds and rode south. The brigands returned to their camp to retrieve their horses. But the Elves galloped. A mouth of a cave could be seen ahead, yawning in a mound of stone. They dismounted their horses, and Ioristion whispered to them: "Gallop to the Last Bridge and find the camp of our kin." His horse nodded and all three began their journey. But the Elves swiftly ran into the cave and slammed the door behind them.

Ioristion sighed, nearly out of breath, "Do not do that again, Alcano! We might have escaped them, for now.....
I will listen at the door and bar it. We will rest here, for a moment...."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 24 2014, 11:11 AM.
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Ioristion

Chapter LI: In the Darkness of Iorvinas

Ioristion sighed, "The doors are barred, our horses have escaped. Alcano... you should know not to engage in such antics.... in dangerous places... this is not the fair vale of Imladris."

Alcano stared down in his embarrassment, "Ada....."

Ioristion turned, "Now be silent..... we do not know how extensive these ruins are, or if there is another exit. But one thing is certain: our distracted thoughts led to a level of carelessness not seen since the Dagor Bragolloch. My sister..... I beg pardon for my son's belligerant behavior."

Cellindien watched them, her eyes dark with anger. "Your son should beg pardon for himself."

Alcano turned sheepishly, "Forgive me...." Then, he smirked, "My lady..."

Ioristion slapped his son on the cheek.

"My son, this is not wisdom. Where learned you such behavior, when our kind is naturally inclined toward manners.........."

Alcano stood defiant, "It is what my brave Feanorian forefathers have done. Such antics are not bereft of manners. I was attempting to lighten our situation."

Ioristion slapped Alcano on the cheek again.

Cellindien scowled, but the expression deepened when Ioristion slapped his son. "Ioristion. Stop. The sapling must learn manners, but I must ask you not to strike your son in my presence.
There are other ways."

Ioristion sighed, "Very well. Forgive me... my sister... and my son... yes, I suppose there are." *The sounds of brigands emerged behind the barred doors of the ruins within the cave* "We have no time for this. We must press on, lest we find ourselves in conflict with the Second-Born!"

They pressed down the darkness of the stairs, moving carefully, groping with their hands and feet.

Cellindien appeared discomfited as they walked through the tunnels.

Suddenly, Ioristion found a vase, and began cracking it open, revealing old parchments safely stored inside.

Alcano gazed quizzically, "Ada... what are you doing?"

Ioristion stammered, "I will not leave history behind for brigands!"

The sounds of battering could be heard in the distance. They moved forward even faster. Then they heard footsteps and snarling down an adjacent hall. They ducked to the side of the corridor, and Ioristion peered around the corner, and whispered: "An Orc! Yrch! Prepare yourselves."

As the Orc passed, Ioristion struck it fast on its head, and Alcano finished it. They moved even further along the passage to their left.
Cellindien whispered, tersely, "Is there another way out of this place? Another door?"

Ioristion whispered, "I do not know. But I hear the voices of Yrch ahead. I know not how came they here, save to hide away from the sun. We must slay any who enter into our sight."

Alcano suddenly shouted, "I will take them now!"

Ioristion muttered to himself and then they pressed forward into a larger chamber. The Yrch were advancing as Alcano clove several, which still came back as Alcano struggled against them. He was scratched by scimitars. Cellindien fired her bow and more Yrch fell.

Cellindien began to move more quickly, appearing to seek out the orcs.

Ioristion attacked as he could with his staff. When they appeared to disperse, he whispered, "This way."

Cellindien whispered, "An escape, or so I would hope..."

They followed another passage. The light of the sun grew brighter. Then they were out.

Cellindien exclaimed, "Praise the Valar!"

And Ioristion smiled, "May they be praised forever...."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 28 2014, 02:59 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter LII: The Past that Clouds the Light of Day

Ioristion sighed with relief, "We are far away from the brigands.... and the Yrch fear the light of day. The brigands may be surprised....to say the least. Now what did I find within those ruins....
These parchments....... they speak of an ancient Arnorian vault.... this must be where we were......."

Cellindien interjected sharply, "Does it glow? Are there shadows in it? Do the runes move mysteriously? For the love of all things, hide it away and leave it for wiser eyes."

Ioristion nodded, almost amused, "No, I believe these are normal parchments writ in the tongues of older men.
The vault once concealed........ so it was a hiding place....... a hiding place should times of war reach the Kingdom........"

Cellindien looked at Alcano to see if he was as enamored of the parchments as his father.

Ioristion traced the faded lines carefully, "And here is a map...... what appears to be a tunnel, leading from...... Weathertop? An escape-route, a protection for.... one of the Seven Stones that Amon Sul once held and guarded....... it is long gone, fortunately for us. And why were such records hidden there...... perhaps they were hidden in the old war that ravaged these lands so long ago.... Alcano, what think you of these?"

Alcano yawned, "Old and dusty..... but valuable....... where are the tales of glorious soldiers marching forth to battle in shining armor?"

Ioristion sighed, "So that is why my wife strove to keep you away from me.... I gather she did not entirely succeed.....
And why such attitudes toward Cellindien earlier?"

Cellindien suddenly laughed and puts a hand on Ioristion's shoulder. "Brother... you are paying for your madness..."

Ioristion laughed, rubbing her hand, "Yes, I suppose I am. Well, now, Alcano, answer the question. Why."

Alcano smirked, "My mother has prattled all about this romance for years........ she was............"

Ioristion's eyes darted with concern.

Alcano did not relent, "Finlos was she who did weaken Rostor's heart, whose loss did plunge him unto despair, leading toward his........."

Ioristion shouted, "ENOUGH!" I will have words with my wife concerning her..... stories!"

The amusement disappeared from Cellindien's face as Alcano spoke and she quickly walked away.

Ioristion felt tempted to slap his son again, but declined. "Stay here, Alcano, and think carefully upon your thoughts and upon your next words."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 28 2014, 03:07 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter LIII: Distraught Memories

Ioristion walked slowly away from the entrance to the ruins, and up the hill of yellow, faded grass. Weathertop yawned in the distance, its ruined pinnacle covered in fog. Alcano sulked and waited down below. Ioristion reached Cellindien.
"My sister........ I do believe I understand...... and I believe that all of this can be sorted through and mended........"

Cellindien did not turn to look at Ioristion as he joined her. "It cannot be mended, not on this side of the Sea. Your son... I trust he simply knows little of what he speaks."

Ioristion bowed, "The elleth whom I wed was distraught for centuries, my son's words do have truth in that regard. But this was the work of fell forces that wrought Gondolin asunder, not your work. Rostoriel appears to have developed.... her own form of madness......... For Rostor..... thought you had been slain beneath..... the axe of the lord of fell shadows that assailed the Fountain..........
Macil......... I was the first one to make him laugh since that day, according to my wife...... But she is blaming the wrong forces. Alas for the discord that wrought Tirion asunder..... has that dark seed now creeped its way so far throughout our Noldorin kin? No wonder jewels were replaced by rings................"

He shook his fist in the air in the direction of Eregion.

Cellindien turned, "I do not wish to continue this conversation here, Ioristion." She spoke wearily, "Is there more to say? We have a task to do, and for now I must distance myself from Rostor's memory so that it cannot be used against me."

Ioristion nodded, "Yes, we will save those affairs for Imladris...... I can only hope that my father will have the sense to send Melimwe or someone with reason there in our stead. And Alcano knows little of what he speaks, given that he was raised by two mad parents: one whose memory was erased of the harsh realities of war, and the other, whom we have just begun to understand....... Even so, distancing yourself from his memory.... hiding from his memory........ I fear that this may turn itself unto another fear......... No matter. Our task. We should depart from these lonely lands at once. We must press on foot to a small encampment of our kin across the Last Bridge."

They returned slowly and halted halfway down the hill. Ioristion commanded,
"Alcano, apologize to Cellindien at once, get on your knees o chivalrous knight, and beg her pardon."

Alcano did as he was told, with no signs of a smirk, "I, Alcano, of the line of the noble Rostor, hereby beg forgiveness and pardon for my belligerant behavior.... that I now can clearly see has cast stain upon my treatment of his memory.... and of your honor. I am sorry for what I have done.........."

Cellindien bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, her tone formal. "I, Cellindien, formerly Finlos of Gondolin, do acknowledge your request and grant it."

Alcano bowed lower, "I thank you, my lady......"

Cellindien nodded, "And let us have no more of this subject for the time being. If... you truly wish to discuss it further... I... may do so, within guarded walls.

Ioristion smirked, "Very well. Agreed. Let us go and reclaim our horses."
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Ioristion

Chapter LIV: The Forsaken Road to the Last Bridge

They ran up the ruins of Ost Heryn and leaped across a 7-foot gap in a ruined bridge. There, on the pinnacle, Ioristion pointed.
"The gap in the hills wherein the Last Bridge will be found, as we had crossed it long ago, is not far ahead."

They climbed down the aged steps and ran through the grassy plains until their feet met the road an hour later. And for hours they trekked, and as the swamp-lands drifted far below, they stood on a solitary hill crowned with pillars. In the distant southeast, green fields and ridges of white stone could be seen, crowned with trees filled to the brim with red berries.

Ioristion smiled solemnly, "There, in the distance, you may see the shadows of holly trees..... the north-western-most reaches of Eregion....."

Alcano gazed with wonder, "Where he lived........"

Ioristion sighed, "And I, with him.......... but come, there is time to ponder such things later."

Cellindien: "Will we also pass that way?"

Ioristion smiled, "It depends.......... we may desire to save it for a continuation of our task after a time of rest within Imladris....
We will need to prepare ourselves, before we venture into those lands......"

And several hours later, they reached it. The old ruined bridge yawned over the Hoarwell River.
"The Last Bridge...... we will soon reclaim our mounts."
Then Ioristion Sighted the horses on the other side, who bowed tenderly and content on their approach*

There was a small encampment of Elves near the river.
They exchanged greetings: "Le suilon mellyn."

The foremost ellon spoke, "I can tell these are your horses.... what befell you?"

Ioristion nodded, "It is difficult to explain.... but we ran afoul of Yrch and other foes, and made our steeds escape in advance."

The ellon nodded, "We are maintaining our watch......"

They rested for a time and were offered food and drink. Several hours later, they arose.

Ioristion smiled, "We thank you. We will make for Imladris."
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Chapter LV: Through the Trollshaws

The Great East Road wound to and fro through rugged terrain. The fir trees stood tall on the ragged, rocky hills and cliffs. Vast grey towers yawned to the north.

Ioristion looked north suspiciously, "We are not done yet, my sister. I sense something about those towers...."

They wound their way up a narrow road that appeared to lead to an old fortress. They were soon surrounded by its ruins.

Ioristion dismounted, "There is a shadow hanging about this place......
These ruins were of Rhudaur........ a traitor-Kingdom that joined..... the Enemy...."

Cellindien nodded, "I sense it as well. Alcano... have a care."

Alcano nodded. Ioristion felt curiously drawn to touch the interior of his velvet sack. "There is a riddle that we must solve."
The orb rolled onto the stone table in front of him.

Alcano gazed at it intently, "What is it?"

Ioristion lifted his hand over it, gazing into it.

A voice spoke: "Cold be heart and hand and bone......"

Cellindien frowned and seized the velvet sack, attempting to throw it over the orb. "Ioristion!"

And then Findekano slowly revealed his presence from the Staff, drawn by such a dangerous force: "Be gone, creature of shadow! Be banished from this earth, leave it behind!"

The voice gravely wailed: "The Shadow shall arise again........"

There was a great flash of light and the sound of a shrill voice shrieking, vanishing away. The darkness faded from the orb, leaving behind a clear blue with swirls of grey.

Findekano's spirit spoke comfortingly, "I tried to warn you......"

Ioristion looked at the vague apparition, puzzled: "But why not confront him, back at the river?"

Findekano seemed to chant: "For the Powers of the Eldar are not far from this place....... greater strength was required....... I am a spirit, I cannot banish other spirits. But I can protect you from them."
Then he slowly vanished, his spirit returning into the Staff.

Ioristion paced to and fro, "So... the object is not itself evil..... we were pawns, briefly, for this wight to attempt to gain power over it........ thank the Valar it has not prevailed."
He pushed it back into the sack and re-attached it to his robes. "Cellindien...... how do you feel?"

Cellindien ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes. "I am weary."

Ioristion smiled, "Let us rest for a little, then....."

Cellindien shook her head, "I will rest better in the House of Elrond."

Ioristion then went off to relieve himself in the bushes. Then he returned and they re-mounted their steeds, and departed from the grey, darkened ruins.
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Chapter LVI: Into the Rugged Wilderness

Ioristion smiled as their horses neared the road, "Very well. We must make one loop through several hills and ruins, and then we are done for the time being."

Alcano seemed afraid, "Ada, is this so wise?"

Ioristion wondered, "Why?"

Alcano kept his silence, "Well..... never mind. Let us press forward."

They rode through several shrubs and made their way north through a gap in the hills. The wilderness stretched forward between many large rocks and plains, until finally it wound down. A solitary ruin stood ahead upon a high cliff. They wound around it, and the land began to rise, and rising, it reached the ruins.

War-drums started beating in the distance.

Ioristion turned, "Alcano...... what did you mean....."

Alcano stammered, "I slew a great troll by the road and angered an entire tribe......"

Cellindien groaned and looked around warily.

Ioristion shouted, "YOU WHAT?!"

Several trolls began closing-in around them. They rode into the ruins and dismounted in haste. The horses were terrified and fled into a corner, and then they darted out of the ruins as soon as they could. The trolls' scaly-skin was grey and their fists were hard. Ioristion hid in a corner while Cellindien and Alcano struck back with their shields and swords. Some of the more timid trolls retreated, but the larger ones continued their assault. In time, they either fell or fled.

Ioristion shouted, "More are coming! Run!"

They made their way to the edge of the ruins. There was a small drop, but a ledge below, with other ledges beneath atop large masses of stone. They made their way as fast as they could, and reached the bottom. Their horses had gathered near the foot of the cliffs, and none of the trolls had chased them yet.

Alcano groaned.

Ioristion turned, "What happened?"

Alcano: "Oh..... just a scratch....."

He began to limp.

Cellindien turned toward him sharply at the first sound and quickly approached him. "An injury is a liability to those around you. What happened?"

Ioristion's eyes grew wide with concern, "Let me see...." *He tore back Alcano's now-torn upper clothing to reveal a light gash in his right shoulder, and his leg was sprained in the climb down the rocks.

Cellindien shouted, "That is not a scratch! You fool of a sapling!"

Ioristion cast his head downward, "Alcano......... this was all my absurd fault for seeking to inspect such ruins."

Cellindien retorted, "Oh, now you decide to take responsibility, Ioristion? We must leave at once."

Alcano sighed deeply, and painfully, "No....Ada.... it was mine..... for angering an entire troll tribe..... We can continue our task.........."

Ioristion took Alcano upon his horse, they slowly wound there way down the trek. There was a troll-hole to their right, and then a grove of tall trees to their left.

They found three trolls of stone hunched over the ground. Ioristion smiled, "Ah, trolls caught in the morning sun. I do believe I have heard that story in Imladris before......."

Cellindien retorted sharply, "This is not the time for sightseeing."

"Swords..." Alcano muttered, "Swords of old...... I have heard that some may be in the north......... the...Enemy must not......"

Ioristion waved his hand, "Alcano, you are wounded. We must reach Imladris."

Alcano sighed, "It is only a scratch......... it will heal...."

Ioristion retorted, "Out of the question. Not even Glorfindel would take such a risk. But if it means so much to you... I...I will go alone."

Cellindien shouted, "No! We will all go to Imladris!" She spoke more softly, "Alcano, the swords will wait."

Alcano belted, "I refuse to return to Imladris willingly, until we reclaim the swords!"

Cellindien retorted, "It need not be willingly!"

A light flickered in Ioristion's eyes, "Ada spoke to me of a refuge, not far from here......"
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 28 2014, 04:01 PM.
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Chapter LVII: Wounded and Deluded on the Return to Imladris

They rode up a hill and returned to the road, and entered into many gorges of the Bruinen. When they sighted ruins to the north, they turned. They moved slowly, and with care, so as to not cause Alcano great pain. They reached the refuge of Thorenhad, where several Elves had encamped and maintained a refuge. They dismounted and turned and entered into the healer's tent.

Ioristion smiled, "Le suilon mellyn. My son is wounded..........."

A healer, one of the companions of the Sons of Elrond, approached, "I can tend to him......"

Cellindien stood close to Alcano as Ioristion assisted him, ready to help if needed.

Ioristion aided in laying Alcano down near the healer.

The healer inspected the wound, carefully blotting it with a hot salve,* "Fortunately, the wound is light. It need not be stitched." The healer applied heavy woven cloths of bandaging, and then turned to Alcano's leg, and did the same.

Ioristion smiled, "I do not know how we will repay you...."

The healer smiled, "None necessary, mellyn...... how was he wounded?"

Cellindien watched carefully, frowning, "You are certain that it does not require stitching...? Perhaps with an overly large needle?"

Ioristion sighed, "It is a long story. I must seek north for something on my son's behalf. I will not be long.
Relax, my sister. The gash only appeared deep at first because of his blood."

Cellindien's eyes grew large with alarm, "You intend to go, then!?"

Ioristion ignored her protest, "Stay here and rest, Alcano. You are safe here. I will return with the swords."

Cellindien cursed, turning to the healer. "Keep him here. Tie him if you must, but keep him here until we return."

Ioristion soon thereafter mounted and bolted out of the encampment, and turned wildly to the north, as if to make Cellindien give chase. He pressed forward with great speed. There was a story he had told his son when he was younger. The tale of the lost swords of Gondolin: of Glamdring and Orchrist. In his madness, he knew not that Gandalf the Grey had found these artifacts in the same troll-hole that they had passed nigh the stone trolls. This did not phase him. He had told Alcano in his madness that the swords were most likely hidden within the northern Trollshaws. In his madness, he did not remember the fact that this was because three trolls had gained them and held them in their hole as they prepared to feast upon thirteen Dwarves and one halfling.

As he reached Nan Tornaeth, he paused, sensing her behind him, "Oh, my sister, I know that you are absolutely enthused about this."

Cellindien replied, sarcastically, "Enthused."

They wound their way up through several hill-top ruins, eventually reaching the borders of a large and ancient Rhudauran temple, and an old chamber with huge block of stone sealed shut with a massive lib.

Ioristion appeared forgetful of his own mad ravings of forty years earlier, "So this is what Alcano spoke of..... I wonder of where he heard of it?
We must heave at this lid!"

They pushed and the lid opened, falling heavily behind the block. There was nothing inside of it.

Ioristion collapsed,
"What?! A myth is a myth, for once?! And my father has stores of ancient swords in any case. Oh blunder!"

Cellindien retorted, "And you have left your wounded son for a myth. Quickly now, let us return before he escapes his minders."

Ioristion's eyes began to tear, "And my son lying wounded........... what monster of a father am I..... have I truly lost my madness?
Or am I fated to be mad......... forever................"

Cellindien sighed, "I do not know how to answer you, my brother."

Ioristion appeared downcast and solemn, "We will return then.......... and to Imladris..... the task can be postponed......... oh my son...... my poor mad son......... and his father madder still.....
My son..... my beloved son..... forgive me...... and there were no swords......."

They wound their way, following the route with their memories as they could. Then they reached Thorenhad once more. They entered the tent.

Alcano smiled, clutching his shoulder, "Can we return home now, Ada?"

Ioristion smiled, "Yes........ for now we may. So that you may heal."

Cellindien watched them, a smile on her face despite her attempts to remain angry with Ioristion. "Come, sapling..."

Alcano smiled, "My lady...."

Ioristion turned to the healer, "I thank you once again. May the stars shine upon your blessed mind and hands."

The healer smiled, "May they shine upon your fortunes. Namarie."

And they rode back through the veiled trees and gorges, rejoining the rode, and passed beneath a large arch of trees. Then the plains flowed downward, and they crossed the Ford. They traversed steadily upward into the heights of the High Moor, where "the wind hissed through the heather." Then, they passed down a long and narrow, winding road, as the twinkling lights of Rivendell glimmered before them. They crossed the bridge, passing into the safety of Imladris.

Ioristion smiled, "Imladris...... we are home at last."

Cellindien echoed him gratefully, "At last."
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 28 2014, 04:25 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter LVIII: A Family Gathering

Ioristion bowed his head, "My sister.... you should return to your chambers and find rest, whilst I find my wife.... and attempt to sooth her sorrowed spirit. I would see that our reunion be a friendly one, and not a round of shouting and disorder."

And before she could say anything in reply, he sped off. He brought Alcano off his horse, carefully, and one of the other Elves led it to the stable. Rostoriel gazed out the window,

"So you have finally returned! Is it true.... after these thousands of years...... you are finally free? From your forgetfulness and crazed desire to search for buried treasure, your lack of sense...?"

"My beloved, our son is wounded."

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me. Our son is wounded."

"What...where...how.....?"

"We ran afoul of the trolls in some ruins."

"YOU BLUNDER..."

Alcano tried to speak, "The fault was mine, the fault was mine.... I had angered the trolls before finding them."

"It is a long story, my beloved. Beloved........ why do you simmer so?"

"My wounded son and his daft father return home along with she who had caused my brother so much....grief for centuries!"

"Never mind that now, we must tend to Alcano."

Rostoriel calmed herself, "My poor ellon............. are these bandages well-fashioned?"

"They are. The healer at Thorenhad was quite adept."

"Very well. Help me, my husband. Let us take him to rest in his room."

They aided him, carrying his arms from shoulder to shoulder as he limped, and they laid Alcano down to rest for the remainder of the day. They spent hours by his side, and then Alcano passed into the elvish sleep, dreaming fair dreams. Then they entered into their living chamber while Alcano slept.

Rostoriel sighed, "To think after three thousand years.... have you finally come to your senses?"

"My sister would disagree."

A darkness lingered in Rostoriel's eyes.

Ioristion sighed, "Beloved.... who made Macil think that Finlos was dead... Finlos, or the legions of Morgoth's Yrch, and his Balrogs? The former or the latter?"

The darkness slowly subsided. She began to see reason for the first time in ages. Ioristion had attempted this argument before, and it had worked, but the old anguish would arise again and again and again, until Macil died and Ioristion lost his mind. Then, it simmered, for three thousand years. "I...I....."

"My beloved, the former or the latter?"

"The former!"

"Let us examine the tale again..."

"No further examination! She was alive! She abandoned him! She left him in Gondolin to die and forgot him, only to pay him the slightest wit of sight at the moment of his demise! My Rostor..... Macil.... my brother..... my kindred! Abandoned by her."

"You know this is not true. She was unaware....."

"Unaware? They marched in the same army, they both dwelt in the same Lindon! Unaware?"

"We did not travel great distances, save for Eregion in those days, if you remember. Not even from Forlindon to Harlindon."

"So now you are the 'rational sage' and I am the maddened beast?"

"Not maddened, albeit slightly overcooked."

"Do you believe that insulting me will gain you your desires?"

"No, but I believe that wooing you as I once did shall. Come, and sit by my side."

She sat nestled within his golden cloak, which he folded around them, cocooning them together, intertwined. "Beloved...."

"Beloved...."

They felt their hearts pound as they kissed, and Rostoriel: "I have missed you...... so much......." Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks. And Ioristion: "My beloved....... forgive me........." And Rostoriel: "I would have become as mad as you, if I stood there as Melimwe reported that you did........" And Ioristion: "So let us ensure his death was not in vain.... he waits for us, he waits, I know it.... and he waits for another, in hope this time, and not despair...... and we must keep her safe for him.............."

And Rostoriel fell into his arms, the hardness of her heart shattering, in an instant. "Oh... Ioristion.... you have finally returned.....I...I do not know what to say........for all of these long years of lingering, waiting.....hoping........and Melimwe, he told me to take heart.........oh my beautiful love................there was but one moment in which you had regained your sanity, briefly, do you remember?"

Ioristion smiled, "Yes....... when we did conceive our beloved son...... alas that the madness returned..........."

Rostoriel smiled, "Finlos restored my husband................ I cannot hate her any longer.......... and I will love her as my sister, as my brother's betrothed..........." Then Ioristion kissed her again, her heart throbbed, and they were very happy. They rested together for what had seemed an eternity. Then they retired to their chamber of old. When Rostoriel awoke at dawn, she found she was still in a state of shock. It was a feeling that would not depart from her with ease. She wondered if it was all a dream, until she sighted her husband. And at dawn they checked on Alcano, and then they walked through the paths of Imladris, in search of Cellindien.
Edited by Ioristion, Dec 29 2014, 08:45 AM.
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Cellindien
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Chapter LIX: A Lonely Return

Cellindien returned to her own chambers.

It was strange to open the door to her rooms again after such an eventful absence. All was as she had left it. No dust had gathered on the sparsely populated shelves - Lord Elrond's servants had done their work well. Everything appeared exactly as she had left it, down to the polishing rag draped over the shoulder of a breastplate she had propped against a wall. With a weary sigh she stepped inside and shut the door behind her. The bolt slid into place and she was secure once again in her chambers, in the house that had served as her home for millennia.

It was in these rooms that Cellindien and Finlos truly dwelt as one. Here she stood in front of the mirror to brush out her long hair and plait it into the elaborate braids she had reluctantly allowed the children of Imladris to practice on her. She never left them in for long, but often returned to practice them on her own, here where no other would see them. Here she rested in hot baths and soothed her training injuries with bandages and salves after long, angry days when she trained for far too many hours, sparring with one companion after another until she had nearly reached her limit. And it was from this balcony window that she had watched as young lovers had passed by in the garden below, turning away when they had passed out of sight and pulling the curtains closed.

Yes, this was her home. So much had happened on the journey with Ioristion. She had gained much: a brother, a father, a fool of a nephew... She laughed at the thought, then sobered. With Ioristion and Alcano she must soon meet another... Rostoriel... Rostor's sister. The elleth would not think well of her, and Cellindien could hardly blame her. Even now Cellindien blamed herself for Rostor's despair despite all that Melimwe and Ioristion had said to reassure her. But could she have done more? Had she not already done everything she could to find him?

Perhaps... perhaps not. Weary and sick at heart, Cellindien retreated into her rooms and took what comfort from them that she could. She slept deeply, but dreams of Rostor and Gondolin and war were never far from her thoughts. She arose the next morning with greater strength, though it was tempered by unease.
Edited by Cellindien, Dec 28 2014, 08:14 PM.
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Ioristion

Chapter LX: Reflections on the Walk

Rostoriel walked beside her husband, smiling at his familiar smile. They spoke seldom. She felt nervous. She would meet her brother's betrothed for the first time in her entire life. She would meet she whom was thought dead, for which she struggled and toiled for hundreds of years to mend her brother's solitude. He never laughed, until Ioristion entered into their lives: her betrothed, and soon thereafter, her young husband. And of all the thousands of years she waited to conceive a child, the years of the madness of her husband, and she had cared for him and tried to love him despite the ruined state of his mind. She did love him. They were one flesh, and she would love him forever. And she felt grateful in her heart to Finlos, for restoring Ioristion, and for caring for him, as his need to be with Rostoriel re-awoke. She lightly kissed Ioristion on the cheek as they walked.

He smiled, "She may be sarcastic at times, but she is a dear soul. She is strong and wise."

Rostoriel nodded, "I wonder what became of her..."

Ioristion sighed, "She had searched for him for centuries, but they never came into the right place at the right time. This may have been due to the curse that he told us of."

And it struck Rostoriel: "Of course! It was the Enemy who harmed us so deep!"

Ioristion nodded gravely, "An Enemy I shall not allow to escape from my justice with such ease. For now, let us not think of him."

Rostoriel nodded, "I feel something..."

Ioristion smiled, "I think she is in the grove to the north."

They crossed onto the fair grass and climbed the nearby hill. And there, in the distance, Cellindien stood.
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