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

News Arrives

A/N: this chapter is all about advancing the plots and giving insights across the various locations.

Now - South of Lorien

They camped in the open again that night. Halfway through the night, while Eldarion and Elboron were on guard, Fëalas woke up, groaning. Her leg felt like it was on fire.

Eldarion quickly got up and hurried over to her. He knelt beside her and wiped a tear from her face.

"Shhh," he hushed before picking her up and carrying her to where he and Elboron were on guard.

"I'm not crying," she stuttered and whimpered. "I'm a ranger!"

Eldarion smiled and nearly laughed as he laid her down on the ground. Elboron brought over a pile of sticks and a lit branch so the prince would have some light to work to. With the small fire kindled, Eldarion took out his supplies to redress her wound.

All three were silent. Her wound was no laughing matter, not at all. Elboron stood with his arms crossed behind her, watching the horizon for any sign of enemies. But every once and a while, his gaze would travel towards Fëalas.

The pain on her face was heartbreaking to him. He knew that she was aware of her slim chance to live. Even once the wound itself was healed, the rabies would seal her fate unless they found Glorfindel. For even Eldarion was not a skilled enough healer.

"We should have brought Estelwen," Eldarion muttered as he began to restitch her wound. "She is the better healer."

Now - Gondor

"We are close to sealing the alliance," Arwen told her husband at dinner that night. "Amdirien is wonderfully gifted in diplomacy!"

Aragorn smiled at his elder daughter. "Just like her mother."

Amdirien blushed. "I hope we can finalize the agreement with Dunland soon."

Arwen agreed with a nod of her head. "The sooner, the better it will be. The chiefs are going to put the treaty up to a vote next month. We are to attend."

"Certainly." Aragorn took a bite of his meal. "I would prefer to have a truce with Dunland in case I need to move troops North. It'd be better not to battle Dunland, though I would do it if needed."

"You think we will have to go North, Father?" asked Estelwen eagerly, the younger of the two sisters. "Has there been some news?"

With a sigh he nodded, causing them all to go quiet. "Indeed there has been. But I fear it is not good news and I must speak to Miril and Elrohir first."

"Speak to us of what?" Elrohir asked as he walked in the door, a smile on his face.

Aragorn suddenly lost all appetite. He put down his fork and stood, excusing himself from his family. Elrohir dropped the smile as he saw the concern on his friend's face.

"Where is Míril?" Aragorn asked quietly.

"She is at home." Elrohir felt his stomach drop.

Aragorn led his adopted brother out of the dining room and into the main circle. Together in silence they walked the streets until they reached the house of Míril and Elrohir. Inside, they found her laughing with Elladan. But as soon as they saw Aragorn's serious expression, they stopped.

"Sit," Aragorn said with a sigh.

All the blood drained from Míril's face. She took her husband's hand and sat on their couch, with Elladan moving to another seat. Aragorn remained standing.

"Is she dead?" whispered Míril in sadness.

Aragorn closed his eyes in pain. As he opened them he shook his head. "No. It is much worse."

Elrohir and Míril exchanged glances with each other. She closed her eyes.

"She's gone rogue," Aragorn explained slowly. "A messenger arrived from the North this morning. He bore news that Tinneth had begun targeting Dunédain settlements and wiping out the rangers there."

"Impossible," Elrohir shook his head, holding his wife's hand tightly.

Miril glared. "Where is this messenger?"

"Dead." Aragorn responded. "He died this morning after relaying the information. But he had proof. A letter written by Tinneth herself confession to the deeds. She wanted us to know."

"My daughter is not a kinslayer," Miril hissed in anger. "She cannot be."

Elrohir turned to Aragorn again. "Where is this letter, brother?"

Expecting the question, Aragorn had brought it with him. He took the letter from his pocket, showing them the seal of the House of Fëanoriel in wax that had come with it. Drawing out the letter, he handed it to them.

Míril's face contorted in horror as she read the letter. Elrohir, though just as in pain, maintained composure... mostly.

"To Míril and Elrohir,

"Parents. You call yourself my parents. But you are not, you are but the people who birthed me. You never loved me, never gave me freedom and choice. You controlled me, my life, and my decisions. That ends now. For I have made my own choice once and for all. I have seen how people who call themselves good, people like you, can be evil. And I have met "evil" that is good.

"You say my anger is a flaw, it "burns too hot and fiery." You say I must watch myself because I am a descendent of Lord Fëanor. But you are wrong. My anger is my strength. High King Fëanor was unstoppable. I will be unstoppable. And it begins now.

"Farewell, and tell King Elessar that I am not alone, and that together me and my ally will topple his Reunited Kingdom. The Red Hand is coming.

Lady Tinneth

Heiress of Fëanor"

Miril nearly screamed in anger and fear and helplessness. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Beside her, Elrohir narrowed his eyes in anger and handed the letter back to his adopted brother and king.

"Truly that is her," Miril said numbly. "We have failed."

Elrohir nodded. He was furious, but at no one save himself. They knew she was a risk. They had known since her birth. A warning from Lord Ulmo, the Vala of water, had spoken to Miril as he had done many times. But no matter how careful they had been, it had not been enough.

Now - Angmar

Tinneth yawned as she woke up. Beside her, Halion was still asleep, his steady deep breathing proof enough. She didn't want to get up, but a knock sounded on the door, waking Halion.

Tinneth quickly pulled the covers up to shield herself from the newcomer as she sat up. Halion called for whoever it was to enter.

"Sorry to disturb you m'lord, m'lady," said a man with dark hair and black clothes. "But there is a messenger here from Gundabad."

Halion sighed and nodded. "Tell him to give me five minutes."

As the man left, Halion got up from the bed and began getting dressed. He pulled on his black and red tunic that complimented his amber eyes. Tinneth watched him intently.

He looked back at her. "I envy you. You get to remain in bed while I see to an orc."

She smirked. "I already did my turn with them. Remember?"

Halion chuckled. He supposed she was right.