The Forgotten Ring
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,105
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,105
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Haldir Remembers
Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.
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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
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Chapter 6 - Haldir Remembers
543 years later.....The Year I. 1754, somewhere in the outer regions of Thalion Tirion
Haldir called the trackers to a stop and looked west at the setting sun. Silent twilight had swiftly descended over the small tracking party of Silvan elves. Looking past the heads of his men, Haldir quickly decided.
"We will camp here this night."
He was used to issuing commands and finality rang in his voice. The small group of 12 elf trackers broke camp and spoke in hushed tones as they went about settling down for the night. Haldir was weary and hoped to find some rest this evening. He hoped the stars would bring him comfort, but he doubted it.
How long had it been since he found himself back on Middle Earth? Over 500 years. Actually it was, he calculated mentally, exactly five hundred and forty-three years. How old did that make him now? Well beyond 4,000. He shrugged to himself. Did his age matter? He'd been given his life back by the Valar only to find his beloved Middle Earth had disappeared forever and in its stead he'd found a new Arda, a new Middle Earth. One where there were no Saurons, or Goblins or Sarumans. Or Galadriel, Lothlorien or Caras Galadhon. Indeed, one where nothing was as had been. Watching his men as they shared a small meal and offered him a portion, he thanked the gesture with a small nod of his head. He walked a facesaces away from the group and sat on a small mallorn stump. He regarded the forest as he ate.
Thick, dense golden and brown trees competed for space in the large wood. Mallorn trees of the new Middle Earth were not as large as he remembered, nor as sturdy as before. Now, tree elves had to make do in cities. And although the cities of Thalion Tirion were fashioned to look as if they had grown from the land itself, after the manner of Imladris, he much preferred a talan high up above the woods, where he could speak his silent wishes to Earendil. But even that too had changed. The stars, he gazed heavenward, even the stars were different. He could still find the beloved Earendil, but the others were lost even with his keen sight. His heart felt heavy and dormant. True, he was still a soldier and would defend his King against all enemies, but as his brothers, Rumil and Orophin, had pointed out one evening, there were no enemies to defend from. The new Middle Earth was awash in peace and tranquility.
Finishing his meal, Haldir took a small silver flask from inside his uniform and opened it. His nostrils caught the delicately scented water, mixed with herbs so as to give a traveller strength and endurance. He swallowed deeply and closed the flask. Tucking it away in the back of his tunic, he was half turned toward the dark wood when his quicks cas caught a flicker of movement. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, and he waited patiently.
Centuries of war and training had taught him much patience and he knew that in the art of catching prey, wisdom and advantage played on the side of those who knew how to wait. He could still hear his men, quietly discussing news from Alasse Imladris.
His eyes never left the area where he'd first seen that flicker of movement. He reasoned it could be any number of things and perhaps Rumil was right: he was too much of a throwback to the former ways. He smiled to himself. So now he was an anachronism. Well, he decided, as he lightly rested his hand on his concealed sword, better a live anachronism, than a dead elf.
He stood up casually, making a move toward the small fire in the center of the elven group, but instead rounded away from the glow the fire cast, and in a matter of moments the darkness had swallowed him whole. Only keen elven eyes could make out his form in the dark wood. A low sound like the whisper of wind passed his lips. It was their signal to alert to strangers. To anyone else within earshot low low whistling sound would have seemed to come from high atop the trees. But to keen elven ears it was the sound of a hushed warning and a call to act. Immediately all conversation stilled and the only sound heard was the soft crackling of the fire's flames.
Watching as his men spread out, let himself blend with the shadows and listened to the sounds of the forest. As he listened, his ears trained to pick up the slightest movement, his thoughts turned toward his biggest and most desperate concern. Tomorrow, once they were back in Thalion Tirion, he planned to seek counsel with King Eadril.
Ever since their return to the new Middle Earth, the elves had let their guard down. True, as Rumil said, there were few foes to guard against, and even those were only the human mauraders that ventured too far from their lands and crossed into elven realms looking for the lost treasure they were certain the elves hoarded. But other than that, little else consumed elves, except the numerous alliances and marriages taking place. This bothered Haldir intensely. He knew what is was like to live under constant threat of death and destruction and try as he would, he simply could not bring himself to believe that all of the great evils wrought upon Arda by Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman, were simply undone and washed away. He knew that all things were possible with Illuvatar, but still, he was ill at ease with the indifferent attitudes of the elves. He knew his was a feeling shared by both Elrond and Elrohir so it might do him well tmindmind his King of the fact. Not everything seemed as peaceful as it looked. In his spirit he could still feel the chill touch of darkness. He knew something had survived but what it was he did not know. And neither did Elrond. This Haldir knew for certain. Therefore, he was anxious to make sure the elves under his command were trained in the same ancient methods used to train him. Expecting and demanding the same discipline and rigorous standards he had always imposed on himself, Haldir was a fair and loyal commander, always placing the needs of his men before his own. And though he was an elf of little words, his command was the most popular. Elf captains trained under his personal hand, and most often requests for transfers to his sector were met with far more than he could accept.
Soon after his arrival on the reformed Middle Earth, Eadril, King and Lord of the vast Thalion Tirion, had taken a personal interest in Haldir and had promoted the elf quickly. As he rose within the ranks, Haldir had employed the ancient training methods of the elves of long ago. In less than 200 years after his arrival on Middle Earth, King Eadril had appointed Haldir as the Marchwarden and Commander of all of the lands of Thalion Tirion, which meant that all elven warriors, lieutenants and captains were under his command. It was an honor and responsibility that Haldir took very seriously.
Still, he decided, he wished to make certain Eadril was aware of his misgivings. This way of approaching all strangers as possible allies was a dangerous way to conduct politics and he well knew this was an early lesson learned by Celeborn himself. One that he, as a young elf captain, never forgot. He would not wish to see his people left abandoned and defenseless as the people of Lothlorien had been before the arrival of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn saved them from a certain death. He shook his head, the fact that Amroth had abandoned the elves in search of his beloved Nimrodel meant that his people had been left bereft of protection and leadership. That it was a tragic love story in the end did not fail to sadden his heart when he heard the song, but the fact was that the captains of that age had shown little interest in maintaining order within the ranks and had it not been for the timely arrival of Celeborn, who had immediately set about organizing the elven troops, certain disaster would have befallen the Golden Wood.
Suddenly a slight movement to his left brought him out of his reverie. He chided himself for getting lost in thought again. Quickly he scanned the wood. Every man in position. He was proud of them, for even in moments of relaxation, they had not lowered their guard. This, he realized, was a good thing. They had taken their training to heart. What Haldir did not know was that his men would follow him to the brink of doom and back, if he had but wished it so. It was this loyalty that Haldir inspired that would one day save his people. But then, who would have thought that any danger lurked about?
[To be continued....] Feeback appreciated :)
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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 6 - Haldir Remembers
543 years later.....The Year I. 1754, somewhere in the outer regions of Thalion Tirion
Haldir called the trackers to a stop and looked west at the setting sun. Silent twilight had swiftly descended over the small tracking party of Silvan elves. Looking past the heads of his men, Haldir quickly decided.
"We will camp here this night."
He was used to issuing commands and finality rang in his voice. The small group of 12 elf trackers broke camp and spoke in hushed tones as they went about settling down for the night. Haldir was weary and hoped to find some rest this evening. He hoped the stars would bring him comfort, but he doubted it.
How long had it been since he found himself back on Middle Earth? Over 500 years. Actually it was, he calculated mentally, exactly five hundred and forty-three years. How old did that make him now? Well beyond 4,000. He shrugged to himself. Did his age matter? He'd been given his life back by the Valar only to find his beloved Middle Earth had disappeared forever and in its stead he'd found a new Arda, a new Middle Earth. One where there were no Saurons, or Goblins or Sarumans. Or Galadriel, Lothlorien or Caras Galadhon. Indeed, one where nothing was as had been. Watching his men as they shared a small meal and offered him a portion, he thanked the gesture with a small nod of his head. He walked a facesaces away from the group and sat on a small mallorn stump. He regarded the forest as he ate.
Thick, dense golden and brown trees competed for space in the large wood. Mallorn trees of the new Middle Earth were not as large as he remembered, nor as sturdy as before. Now, tree elves had to make do in cities. And although the cities of Thalion Tirion were fashioned to look as if they had grown from the land itself, after the manner of Imladris, he much preferred a talan high up above the woods, where he could speak his silent wishes to Earendil. But even that too had changed. The stars, he gazed heavenward, even the stars were different. He could still find the beloved Earendil, but the others were lost even with his keen sight. His heart felt heavy and dormant. True, he was still a soldier and would defend his King against all enemies, but as his brothers, Rumil and Orophin, had pointed out one evening, there were no enemies to defend from. The new Middle Earth was awash in peace and tranquility.
Finishing his meal, Haldir took a small silver flask from inside his uniform and opened it. His nostrils caught the delicately scented water, mixed with herbs so as to give a traveller strength and endurance. He swallowed deeply and closed the flask. Tucking it away in the back of his tunic, he was half turned toward the dark wood when his quicks cas caught a flicker of movement. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, and he waited patiently.
Centuries of war and training had taught him much patience and he knew that in the art of catching prey, wisdom and advantage played on the side of those who knew how to wait. He could still hear his men, quietly discussing news from Alasse Imladris.
His eyes never left the area where he'd first seen that flicker of movement. He reasoned it could be any number of things and perhaps Rumil was right: he was too much of a throwback to the former ways. He smiled to himself. So now he was an anachronism. Well, he decided, as he lightly rested his hand on his concealed sword, better a live anachronism, than a dead elf.
He stood up casually, making a move toward the small fire in the center of the elven group, but instead rounded away from the glow the fire cast, and in a matter of moments the darkness had swallowed him whole. Only keen elven eyes could make out his form in the dark wood. A low sound like the whisper of wind passed his lips. It was their signal to alert to strangers. To anyone else within earshot low low whistling sound would have seemed to come from high atop the trees. But to keen elven ears it was the sound of a hushed warning and a call to act. Immediately all conversation stilled and the only sound heard was the soft crackling of the fire's flames.
Watching as his men spread out, let himself blend with the shadows and listened to the sounds of the forest. As he listened, his ears trained to pick up the slightest movement, his thoughts turned toward his biggest and most desperate concern. Tomorrow, once they were back in Thalion Tirion, he planned to seek counsel with King Eadril.
Ever since their return to the new Middle Earth, the elves had let their guard down. True, as Rumil said, there were few foes to guard against, and even those were only the human mauraders that ventured too far from their lands and crossed into elven realms looking for the lost treasure they were certain the elves hoarded. But other than that, little else consumed elves, except the numerous alliances and marriages taking place. This bothered Haldir intensely. He knew what is was like to live under constant threat of death and destruction and try as he would, he simply could not bring himself to believe that all of the great evils wrought upon Arda by Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman, were simply undone and washed away. He knew that all things were possible with Illuvatar, but still, he was ill at ease with the indifferent attitudes of the elves. He knew his was a feeling shared by both Elrond and Elrohir so it might do him well tmindmind his King of the fact. Not everything seemed as peaceful as it looked. In his spirit he could still feel the chill touch of darkness. He knew something had survived but what it was he did not know. And neither did Elrond. This Haldir knew for certain. Therefore, he was anxious to make sure the elves under his command were trained in the same ancient methods used to train him. Expecting and demanding the same discipline and rigorous standards he had always imposed on himself, Haldir was a fair and loyal commander, always placing the needs of his men before his own. And though he was an elf of little words, his command was the most popular. Elf captains trained under his personal hand, and most often requests for transfers to his sector were met with far more than he could accept.
Soon after his arrival on the reformed Middle Earth, Eadril, King and Lord of the vast Thalion Tirion, had taken a personal interest in Haldir and had promoted the elf quickly. As he rose within the ranks, Haldir had employed the ancient training methods of the elves of long ago. In less than 200 years after his arrival on Middle Earth, King Eadril had appointed Haldir as the Marchwarden and Commander of all of the lands of Thalion Tirion, which meant that all elven warriors, lieutenants and captains were under his command. It was an honor and responsibility that Haldir took very seriously.
Still, he decided, he wished to make certain Eadril was aware of his misgivings. This way of approaching all strangers as possible allies was a dangerous way to conduct politics and he well knew this was an early lesson learned by Celeborn himself. One that he, as a young elf captain, never forgot. He would not wish to see his people left abandoned and defenseless as the people of Lothlorien had been before the arrival of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn saved them from a certain death. He shook his head, the fact that Amroth had abandoned the elves in search of his beloved Nimrodel meant that his people had been left bereft of protection and leadership. That it was a tragic love story in the end did not fail to sadden his heart when he heard the song, but the fact was that the captains of that age had shown little interest in maintaining order within the ranks and had it not been for the timely arrival of Celeborn, who had immediately set about organizing the elven troops, certain disaster would have befallen the Golden Wood.
Suddenly a slight movement to his left brought him out of his reverie. He chided himself for getting lost in thought again. Quickly he scanned the wood. Every man in position. He was proud of them, for even in moments of relaxation, they had not lowered their guard. This, he realized, was a good thing. They had taken their training to heart. What Haldir did not know was that his men would follow him to the brink of doom and back, if he had but wished it so. It was this loyalty that Haldir inspired that would one day save his people. But then, who would have thought that any danger lurked about?
[To be continued....] Feeback appreciated :)
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