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6. Wind-Singers Prologue VI: The Embassy- Brethren of Noldorion; The wayward brothers return nigh Lindon from Mirkwood
Topic Started: Nov 21 2015, 11:44 PM (82 Views)
Lerinon
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Prologue: Home

The marble halls of Minas Noldorion rivaled the majesty of the Halls of Thranduil. Auruiron paced silently through his throne-room. The rest had retired to their chambers for rest. Auruiron had heard his sons' strange tale and wondered of the strange kindred of Greenwood. The white throne towered above the rest of the chamber. Auruiron ascended the flight of steps before it. The hall was lined with marble pillars. The floor glistened in the evening sunlight, as the day grew dimmer and dimmer. He turned and sat upon his throne in the empty hall, like an aged, faded King. His cloak poured down the stairs in its wide majesty, molten gold flowing as if a river, glowing in fiery colors in the fading sunlight. He thought he heard the sound of a soft footfall. He gazed toward the nearest door.

Even as day passed unto early evening, Inheroth could not find rest. He felt a strange stirring within him, a keen hunger for a thing he could not name. The sight of Minas Noldorian had awed him, but that feeling had quieted, and been replaced with an unknown anxiety. Thus did he part from Agarwaenor, and go to wander the Halls alone. He had since rid himself of his worn traveling garments, and instead garbed himself in something white, and simple. It seemed appropriate. He could imagine his Father, close to the sea in white robes, hearkening to the song of it. Inheroth wondered if his Father could remember the faces of the Telerin people he once counted himself amongst. These thoughts were strange and fanciful. Soon he found himself within the grandest of Halls. It stole his breath away, so different it was from the realm of the Wood-land King. The marble and stone seemed to beckon him in further. He stepped silently, awing at the high ceilings. It was not until he was in the center of the Hall that he felt the presence of another. Stilling, he turned to the throne. Upon it sat an Elf, of such regal bearing that he almost at once moved to kneel, though he could not. Instead he could only return the stare, and it was utterly silent for many moments. Surely this was a King of Old, the Lord of his domain. And yet he could say nothing, and offer no greeting.

The soft, soothing, solemn voice came from the throne, "Are you he who saved the lives of my sons......?"

When he spoke, his voice rose only gently above the din, and the sound of the sea in the far distance. "As they saved me. My lord," he added with some hesitance. So then. This was the Father to his brothers. He dared a step closer.

Auruiron smiled, "Come, you may approach.... for if it were not for you, my sons would have remained imprisoned in the Elven-King's Halls. Come, brother of my sons, for they have told me of you........"

Inheroth reached the stairs to the dais, less unsure, the reverence quite plain upon his features. "I did what I thought to be right," he admitted, "for I could see that they were not as the Elves of the Greenwood, nor any I have seen since..." He smiled, and his eyes shone as he thought of Edhellond, another place close to the Sea. "I promised I would bring them hence, and they have given me much already in return. They...spoke quite often of you. Even when all seemed lost, your name was invoked as an anchor. I admit I..." he bowed his head, and smiled.

Auruiron smiled, "Yes...... speak on. You have nothing to fear here."

The first step up towards the dais took some effort, the next further still. He paused, wondering briefly if such a proximity would be considered disrespectful. "I wished to meet you. Greatly. I could find little peace until now. I do not know why your name invoked such a fancy, yet it did. This place - I can feel your very presence here. You have lingered long. That is all."

Auruiron smiled sadly, nodding, "Long have I lingered upon these shores, awaiting the return of the lost voice....................I seek no disrespect, yet I can see that desire in your eyes....... come, you may sit beside me, if you wish." Auruiron lowered himself onto the first step beneath the throne.

Inheroth climbed the stairs. At Auruiron's side he sank, gathering his own robes about him neatly. Almost as an after-thought, he reached forward and clasped the edge of Auruiron's cloak. "Your sons, I treasure them deeply," he spoke softly. "They showed me many things. That which has passed. Even as I rest, I hear the names that have been spoken to me. But yours is the one I wake with." He smiled a gentle smile. "My heart sings, I said to Lerinon, when he first wove his tale. That is why I led them here. I regret naught what I have done."

Auruiron smiled, "We shall see.......... my son claims that you beheld a memory of his past. Can you endure another?"

Drawing back, Inheroth gazed into Auruiron's face. He nodded slowly. "I will. I shall."

Auruiron uplifted a vast fold of his cloak, and covered Inheroth in it entirely from head to toe. Within the golden, fiery mist of memory came a bright and powerful vision of the West, the call of the Sea singing through the vision. There in a majestic courtyard, was a young elf with darker hair strumming on a harp, singing beautifully. A recognizable golden-haired Elven youth sat by his side. The vision faded with the sounds of the harp strings, which were suddenly silenced by the flourish of horns of battle. The sound of the raging sea was heard, as a moaning, despairing voice came singing upon the wind. And there was Auruiron's voice, trembling to sing in reply, with a youthful tone of his voice crying aloud: "This I affirm!" as a chorus of others joined him in his Affirmation. The vision faded once more, the golden light of the setting sun piercing the cloak as it glimmered and glittered and gleamed in the heights of beauty and majesty.

Seated and still, Inheroth clung to the cloak with a tightening grip. This vision was a strong one, and it took many moments to return to the present, where the air was still and silent save for the gentle cadence of his breath, and the slowly beating heart of an ancient one beside him. Inheroth stirred, and opened his eyes. The sun was nearly gone. "That was you I saw. And..." Maglor. The name went unspoken. He could scarce believe it, though he had witness it, as clearly as though he'd been there, in Aman, so many long years ago that the gravity of it stunned him into silence.

"You have beheld the West, my son," Auruiron announced proudly. "And few have ever done so, without taking the Straight Road itself. But I am bound to remain upon these shores, lest Maglor finally return with me...."

The tale returned to him slowly; at once Inheroth envisioned a youth of dark hair and round grey eyes, sat upon the knee of one of the Noldorim, "...he was lost to us by the sea," the Elf spoke mournfully, and the child wept, for such a sad, stange story. Inheroth regarded Auruiron with misted eyes. "You linger still, though I see hope in you."

Auruiron enveloped him in a deep embrace, "Yes, my son....... I have not surrendered hope......"

Inheroth returned the warm embrace, and he imagined he could find the scent of the sea lingering close to Auruiron, and the sweetness of an unnameable spring. "Nor shall you. No journey is for naught. This I know, if little else. Thank you for sharing this with me." He closed his eyes, and drifted.

Auruiron cradled Inheroth in his arms, the cloak wrapped around them both. The sun had nearly set as light dimmed in the shadowed hall. Auruiron felt at peace. Soft feet tapped across the floor of the hall. Lerinon sat beside Inheroth.

Wordlessly Inheroth turned to Lerinon and gathered him into his arms. "Brother," he whispered, and the exhaustion that had evaded him until then crept slowly unto him, for all that their journey had been long, arduous, treacherous; now they were safe, and he was beside Auruiron, and his heart soared beyond anything he could put to word.

Lerinon smiled, "My gwador......."

Auruiron's heart was beaming, "Go and rest now, my sons. We will speak on the morrow."

Inheroth nodded slowly. He made to stand, his arms tight around Lerinon. "Yes. On the morrow." The sun was gone. The Hall was dark. It was, for the moment, a place of dark, and quiet, and peace.
Edited by Lerinon, Dec 6 2017, 05:51 PM.
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