The Great Sacrifice

On The Road

While traveling up the Anduin, they were attacked by orcs once. Remnants of the dark days, that Middle-Earth and its inhabitants had faced not long ago. In the far south they had heard tales of the great wars, but had not felt the influence of the darkness much. Mostly rumors had been spread, which chilled the listener to the bones. The traveling company had decided to stop in Rohan and where now riding northwards again. Spring had finally arrived and Ari felt joyous at the change. The nights were getting warmer and the scenery looked stunning.

After crossing the river she became aware of a unique energy emerging from the western shores of the Anduin. The distant forest looked so different. Ari had heard in Rohan about Lothlorien, an elven realm of exquisite beauty. Only few had ever seen it, but everyone spoke of its fairness and golden light. A kind of magic lay upon the forest, which would calm and ease the worries of one's mind and soul if they ventured there.

Ari regretted crossing the river as she desired to approach the forest. But they traveled along the eastern banks and that was out of question. During the following night Ari had a strange dream. She was walking on soft, lush green grass, its subtle touch like balm under the skin of her bare feet. The air filled with the intoxicating scent of unfamiliar flowers, reaching for her through a warm and pleasant breeze. Ari looked around questioningly as she suddenly sensed she was being watched. She turned around and saw them, a pair of piercing azure blue eyes, penetrating into her many layers of inner protection, staring into the depths of her soul.

"You are not known to me," a voice said. "Where are you from?"

The mysterious voice that lingered in her head caused Ari to jerk in her sleep. Her sudden movement startled Arlos, who was on watch duty. He walked over and placed his strong hand on Ari's slender shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"Yes, I am fine," Ari replied sleepily, trying to understand what had just happened.

She shivered not only by his touch but by the pair of eyes that had gazed upon her, a memory that was now firmly embedded deep in her mind. Ari lay down to rest, but sleep did not come to her again that night. The next morning they went on, and Ari felt slightly disorientated. Where had she been in her dream? Who was that? Ari pondered over the dream and the rumors she had heard about elves when she lived in Gondor. In the south there had been tales of immortal beings, but they were often told in ways that caused fear to the listener. Gondorians spoke kindly of them. Their queen had been an elf, Ari had heard. She gave up her immortality for the sake of the man she loved. Ari shivered again. Such deep feelings of affection and love were unknown to her. The road was long and her mind drifted off. She hoped to reach the city of Dale soon and settle there, hopefully for the next ten years. If no one noticed...

As she rode on her faithful horse Aro, memories of her childhood and youth returned to her mind. Tears filled her eyes as she recollected her parents and brother. She had loved them dearly. Ari had not been born into the family. She had been found by them at their doorstep on a cool autumn morning many years ago. They had accepted the infant's surprising arrival as a blessing from the gods, and had raised her with love and devotion as if she were their own child indeed.

Faran, her elder brother, had adored her. He had taught her everything he knew, including wielding a sword. But first and foremost he had protected her from admirers. Ari smiled at the memory of her brother. Faran had loved Dirlind. She was beautiful and she always smiled. Their love was so young and pure. But it was never meant to be. Dirlind was killed by a jealous admirer. He had lusted for her, long before she met Ari's brother. Ari had witnessed how she was mercilessly slain when she had opposed to his obvious intentions. She had not been able to help her as, at that time, Ari had never wielded a sword before.

It had been the hardest walk of her life to find her brother Faran, and deliver him the news of Dirlind's undeserved death. That incident had changed not only Faran's life, but Ari's as well, and the lives of many others, as none of them had accepted that deed as just. It had brought war upon them. The peace which had once prevailed over the calm lands of her home had been taken away in the blink of an eye. It was that incident, which led Faran to teach Ari how to wield a sword. She had to learn to defend herself. Faran did not want his sister to suffer the same fate as Dirlind had done. Ari was beautiful and kind, qualities that many found attractive. She proved a skilful student. When Ari had learned everything Faran and their father could teach her, they felt at peace. It was then, when her father Ravi gifted her a set of daggers and a magical sword.

When she bore that sword, no one was aware of its presence unless she drew it. It was invisible. Ravi had found it in his youth in an abandoned village near the sea shore. When he became aware of the sword's magic, he hid it until the day he handed it to his beloved daughter. Ari had accepted his gift in awe, marveling at the unique sword. It was very light and intricately crafted. There were markings on the blade and its hilt, which no one could read and understand. Her father believed it was washed out onto the shore after a great storm a long time ago. That it had come from the depths of the sea. Tears welled up in Ari's eyes as she recollected her father. She gripped the hilt of the sword and remembered her family, a deed that filled her heart with love and pain at the same time.

"They speak of immeasurable wealth in that mountain," Marten said.

Ari was brought back to reality. Her travel companions were speaking about the land ahead of them. About the lonely mountain, Erebor, and dwarves, a race completely unknown to Ari. She had heard of them, but had never seen them. As she had never seen elves, either.

"There are huge halls of boundless treasure. More gold than you could ever possibly spend. Many generations ago, it had attracted a dragon, Smaug was his name. He invaded the mountain and the dwarves were mercilessly forced to flee away from their home; once a wealthy people, they had now become beggars. Many years later, the heir of the throne of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield had set out on the quest to reclaim his homeland - and the treasure within it. There was a halfling, a hobbit among them."

Ari loved stories, but this one sounded strange. Dwarves and a halfling, traveling across Middle-Earth to slay a dragon. She listened attentively and soon lost herself within the tale of courage and evil.

As the story neared its end, Ari had heard enough. She rode ahead. Curiosity had awoken within her. She knew that they had to journey through the Woodland realm. Mirkwood it was still called today. That was a great tale of good facing evil. The darkness was fought back - for some time - just to return in its full strength later. After having lived in Minas Tirith for a couple of years, she was very well acquainted with the tale of the War of the Ring, which followed the tale that Marten had told them. Ari wanted to see Mirkwood, Dale and the lonely mountain, Erebor. And so she encouraged Aro to speed up his pace.