Return to the North [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Nine Once More

They departed from Henneth Annûn early the next morning. The full day's trip back to Minas Tirith was a long one, but they got it done. Along the way they chatted about many things, such as relations with Harad.

It was past midnight when they reached the gates of Minas Tirith. The gate keepers eventually opened the gates for them and they rode up the silent streets to the level with the royal stables.

They dropped off their horses with the stable master on duty and went to bed. Finduilas went to find her family who had come to Minas Tirith a few days before.

She knocked on the door to the guest house she was directed to. After several minutes, a tired face answered. His brown hair and brown eyes were droopy from sleepiness, but once they met Finduilas' face, they perked up.

"Fin!" the man said with a grin.

"Elboron," she smiled, giving him a huge hug. "I assume the rest of the family is asleep?"

"Indeed." He nodded and let her inside. "Mother and Father have been busy, and Barahir spent much time today training."

"Since when does our brother need to train?" She laughed quietly.

He shrugged. "He is rather skinny."

Finduilas smirked. "That just means he needs to eat more."

They went and sat on a couch at a dormant fireplace. The autumn air was pleasantly warm and they did not need the fire to heat the house. Elboron smiled at his sister and shook his head.

"It is good to see you, sister." He nodded. "You are missed at Emyn Arnen."

She sighed. "I know. But I do well for myself as a ranger."

The siblings were vastly different but they loved each other dearly. Elboron took most after his father, Faramir. An able warrior, but a man who preferred diplomacy and scholarly pursuits to hacking and slashing. If needed, he could be deadly in battle, but on the inside he was hesitant to ever engage in such.

Meanwhile Finduilas was a spitting image of her mother in many ways. Her blonde hair and blue eyes echoed Eowyn's own. But even more than that, Finduilas had inherited the spirit of fiery passion from her mother. The desire for the thrill of battle, the craving of adventure and renknown. Finduilas was truly a child of Eowyn. Yet from her father she learned kindness and gentleness also.

Their brother, Barahir, was a mix. He had the blonde hair of his mother and greyish eyes of his father. He was an expert tactician, warrior, and diplomat. He was tall but skinny, yet his arms were pure muscle. He welded a sword and shield like few others could.

"Get some rest," Elboron insisted as he saw Finduilas' eyes drooping and mind wandering. "You need it, obviously."

She went to protest, but her brother held up a hand to silence her. She grumbled and went to a side room to sleep. Elboron soon retreated to his own room. There were but a few hours until dawn, and he intended to make the most of them.

The next morning, Estelwen woke to the sound of her father, Aragorn, pacing. She quickly got out of bed and eased into some comfortable slippers. Still in her nightgown, she left the room and found Aragorn now talking to Eldarion, her brother.

"What is going on?" She yawned and stretched. "I woke up to the commotion you are making."

"I am sorry about that," Aragorn apologized to his daughter.

"So what is the matter now?" She was very curious now.

Eldarion shook his head. "Nothing new. That's the problem."

"We've heard nothing new about Tinneth," explained her father. "It's been almost two weeks since I first received the news. We should've heard something by now."

"If they found her," Estelwen nodded. "So what are you going to do?"

Several hours later, all members of royalty were gathered in the throne room for a meeting. Eowyn and Faramir looked concerned, as did Miril and Elrohir, understandably. Next to Aragorn stood Arwen and next to her, their elder daughter Amdirien. Estelwen was near to her brother, Eldarion.

Elfwine, Edeva, Finduilas, Barahir, and Elboron stood together with Eowyn and Faramir, for Eomer and Lothiriel were back in Rohan. Fëalas, Círeth, and Aderthon stood by their parents and uncle, Elladan. Everyone was there.

Aragorn quieted them down with a raised hand. They grew silent immediately, as if he was to pronounce some great doom. And indeed, he was.

"Nearly 37 years ago, a fellowship was created to destroy the greatest evil in Middle Earth. I was a member of that great quest." He grew silent, thinking of those he had lost, before continuing. "Nine there were, and I think that nine is now a special number. For I have chosen nine to return North, to my homeland, and find what is amiss in that region."

Everyone grew nervous, yet also filled with anticipation. Who was to go?

"I have thought long about this. There are many here who likely wish to go." He glanced at the parents of the children. "But it is time for a new generation to take their place in the annals of history."

The younger generation quivered with excitement.

"Therefore, I appoint my son, Eldarion, to head this mission. With him will go Aderthon, Fëalas, and Círeth, for this directly effects their family. But also I send Edeva, Elfwine, Finduilas, Barahir, and Elboron. For each has something to give and to learn from this quest."

Eldarion bowed to his father. "We will not fail you, Father."

Aragorn nodded. "I know you will not."

"When will they leave?" Faramir asked with a sigh.

"As soon as they can be ready. Hopefully tomorrow." Aragorn would say no more.

In reality, he had seen something. He had looked in the Palantír of Minas Tirith and seen something building. He had been unable to make much sense of it, but because of this he had decided it was time to send people to investigate. And he intended to send only the best.