LOTR Fic: Lady of Gondor Ch 9
Jun. 13th, 2007 12:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
martasficTitle: The Lady of Gondor Ch 9
Summary: The deeds of Mellamir, sister of Boromir and Faramir, before and during the War of the Ring. Novel-length.
Word Count: 1542
Rating: Teen (for violence)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age, Late Third Age (bookverse)
-------
3002; Anórien
-------
Gandalf and Mellamir rode for two more hours until at last they reached the Druadan Forest, where they left the road. Mellamir knew if they had kept to the road they would have eventually come to Edoras, the capital of Rohan. The Rohirrim, famous far and wide for their fierce loyalty and their resilient, sturdy horses, had long been allies of Gondor. At one time Rohan had been a part of Gondor, but when Eorl answered Cirion's call for help Cirion gave Eorl the land that became Rohan as reward for his services.
But Gandalf and Mellamir were not going to Edoras, and this road would lead them too far south. No paths led to Fangorn because hardly anyone went there, certainly not enough to wear a path through the rough country. Gandalf's horse was familiar enough with the terrain, but Mellamir's mare found every root and all the undergrowth.
When she noticed how badly her horse was struggling Mellamir called out to Gandalf to stop. He dismounted and walked over. Placing his hands around the horse's neck under his head, he leaned over and whispered words in a language Mellamir could not understand. Suddenly an arrow flew through the air past Gandalf's head and pierced the tree behind him.
The horse's nostrils flared and he startled, but Gandalf held him steady, and slowly the horse calmed down. A short, swarthy man walked out of the woods carrying a bow on his back, his thick brown hair and sparse beard unkempt. He met Gandalf's eyes as he hurried forward.
"I did not know you ride through my forest," the strange man said. "Why do you stop?"
"Her horse is tired," Gandalf replied. "Why did you shoot your arrow?"
"Lords of horses and lords of stone shoot us. We shoot who we do not know." The man looked around the wood, searching the shadows. "You leave now. Others will come and shoot."
Gandalf shook his head. "If I release her hose, he will bolt. Your arrow spooked him. As soon as I calm him, we will leave."
The swarthy man suspiciously eyed the pale girl sitting on her horse. "Who is she?" he asked. Mellamir looked at Gandalf, a similar question in her eyes.
"Mellamir," Gandalf said reluctantly, "meet Ghân-buri-Ghân, chief of the Druedain, who live in these woods." He paused, then grudgingly finished the introduction. "Master Ghân-buri-Ghân, this is Mellamir, child of Denethor."
"Father of Stonehouse-men?" the man asked, almost growling under his breath. "Take her out of my woods, now."
Gandalf looked at Mellamir's horse, whose breathing had slowed considerably. Judging her sufficiently calmed, Gandalf released the reins to Ghân-buri-Ghân and mounted his own horse.
"We release Stonehouse-children," Ghân-buri-Ghân said. "Who is greatest father?" He began to walk away, then turned back around. "Take her away, and do not bring her back. Ghân-buri-Ghân is great chief. He sees the stars in the sky and remembers they shine down on Stonehouse-men too. But other men of Ghân's, they are not so kind." And he disappeared into the woods.
They rode on through the forest. Gandalf asked Mellamir every so often if her horse was fine, and he would often slow his pace, but neither did he offer nor did Mellamir ask to stop as long as the forest lasted. At last they cleared the trees, and at a signal from Mellamir Gandalf stopped. They dismounted, and Gandalf began massaging Mellamir's horse.
"What was that about?" Mellamir asked as she offered her horse a carrot from her saddlebag.
"Hunting rights," Gandalf answered, sighing.
"What do you mean? They want to hunt our animals?"
"I wish it were that simple, Mellamir," Gandalf said. "No, he wants the men of Gondor and of Rohan to stop hunting his children." Mellamir looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. "Your father does not order his men to slaughter Ghân-buri-Ghân's folk, but he does not stop them. On occasion they come into the woods and hunt the Druedain, and when a man of Gondor dies to their arrows, your father counts it as if he had died to a beast in a hunt.
"There are many types of men," Gandalf continued, his eyes sorrowful, "many of them of noble race, but your father is wont to forget that. Any man who is not like himself is somehow less worthy, to Denethor's way of thinking. Yet Ghân-buri-Ghân comes from a proud, ancient line. Before the kings ever sailed from Númenor his ancestors built great fortresses. Today they hide away in these woods and want only to be left alone."
Now that she had left the woods, Mellamir caught her first glimpse of the lands north of the Ered Nimrais. She did not see many farms, and the land was much more rocky than nearer Minas Tirith. After she and Gandalf had ridden away from the forest, north toward the Anduin, Mellamir looked back and saw over the trees a great range of mountains rising up through the clouds.
"Is that...?" Mellamir wondered aloud.
"Nardol," Gandalf said. "One of the fire-beacons. Your father lights the first one, at Amon Dîn, high up in the mountains. Then the men at Eilenach see the light and kindle their own fire, and on down the line. They can see the last fire away in Rohan."
"So this is Anórien," she said absent-mindedly.
Gandalf nodded. "The sun-lands. The land is too rocky to be much good for farming, but some people still live here, hunters mostly." He paused, then looked back at the mountains. "Your father has never had reason to light the beacons, nor did his father, back through many generations. But some day the mountaintops may burn again. Denethor will need the help they can bring." With that, Gandalf gave Mellamir's horse a final pat, walked back to his own steed, and mounted. "Come along, Fangorn is still many miles away," he said, and the two of them rode toward the Anduin.
That evening they reached the riverbanks as the sun set, and they ate fish Gandalf caught for dinner. The next morning they rode along the western bank north toward the Entwash. How many days, Mellamir lost count, probably four or five. They slept, ate, rode, and rested--all the things one must do on a long journey--but Mellamir asked no more long questions. At last she saw the rushing falls of Rauros in the distance.
"The Argonath," Mellamir said, pleased to see a familiar sight. She pointed toward the great carved stone cliffs framing the falls.
Gandalf smiled. Mellamir was staring at the towering stone guardians six leagues off, but even at that distance they still impressed her. She saw the crowns on the back of their heads, their flowing robes, and their great arms stretched out, forbidding others to enter. She stopped her horse and was quiet for a moment, admiring them.
"They mark the ancient northern boundaries of Gondor," Gandalf continued at last. "Long ago, when the Númenóreans sailed to Middle-earth they built the Argonath to warn foreigners that they were entering the southern lands of the kings. Do not be afraid! I see the fear in your eyes. But the Argonath guard you and all Gondor."
"I am not afraid," Mellamir replied absent-mindedly. And she wasn't; she had heard of the Argonath from Delagond once, she just never imagined they would be so huge. But she wasn't really listening to Gandalf or even looking at the cliffs. No, she was trying to determine what that revolting smell was, brought on an easterly wind. She sniffed the air and wrinkled her face. "Eurgh! Do you smell it?"
Gandalf nodded. "The fields of Dagorlad lie beyond the Anduin, near the Black Gates."
"Dagorlad," Mellamir repeated, giving no indication of whether she recognised the name. She stared off into the distance, a blank look on her face, as Gandalf continued.
"When Elendil sailed to Middle-earth, the elf-lord Gil-galad had been fighting Sauron for over a millennium. Sauron feared Númenor and what it represented, and so he attacked Gondor, determined to stamp out this world of men. Gil-galad and Elendil forged an alliance to fight Sauron, and they challenged his vast army of orcs and other foul creatures on the fields of Dagorlad, past the Great River--"
"Enough," Mellamir said. "I know the old stories, and do not need reminding." Gandalf nodded, and at last Mellamir continued, trying to breathe more shallowly so she did not have to inhale the stench. "Let us leave this wretched place. The beauty of the Argonath cannot erase the stench of that ancient battle."
They left the Great River and rode along the Entwash for two more days. At last Gandalf stopped at the threshold of a great wall of trees. He turned to Mellamir and said, "You will see many things in this forest that you have never seen or heard tell of before. Remember: they are different, not wrong. No matter how frightened you are, know that nothing can hurt you so long as you are with me. This is Fangorn, not Mirkwood, and there are no dark lords hiding in here, however scary the forest might seem. Just remember, when we meet the Ents, allow me to speak first."
Summary: The deeds of Mellamir, sister of Boromir and Faramir, before and during the War of the Ring. Novel-length.
Word Count: 1542
Rating: Teen (for violence)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age, Late Third Age (bookverse)
-------
3002; Anórien
-------
Gandalf and Mellamir rode for two more hours until at last they reached the Druadan Forest, where they left the road. Mellamir knew if they had kept to the road they would have eventually come to Edoras, the capital of Rohan. The Rohirrim, famous far and wide for their fierce loyalty and their resilient, sturdy horses, had long been allies of Gondor. At one time Rohan had been a part of Gondor, but when Eorl answered Cirion's call for help Cirion gave Eorl the land that became Rohan as reward for his services.
But Gandalf and Mellamir were not going to Edoras, and this road would lead them too far south. No paths led to Fangorn because hardly anyone went there, certainly not enough to wear a path through the rough country. Gandalf's horse was familiar enough with the terrain, but Mellamir's mare found every root and all the undergrowth.
When she noticed how badly her horse was struggling Mellamir called out to Gandalf to stop. He dismounted and walked over. Placing his hands around the horse's neck under his head, he leaned over and whispered words in a language Mellamir could not understand. Suddenly an arrow flew through the air past Gandalf's head and pierced the tree behind him.
The horse's nostrils flared and he startled, but Gandalf held him steady, and slowly the horse calmed down. A short, swarthy man walked out of the woods carrying a bow on his back, his thick brown hair and sparse beard unkempt. He met Gandalf's eyes as he hurried forward.
"I did not know you ride through my forest," the strange man said. "Why do you stop?"
"Her horse is tired," Gandalf replied. "Why did you shoot your arrow?"
"Lords of horses and lords of stone shoot us. We shoot who we do not know." The man looked around the wood, searching the shadows. "You leave now. Others will come and shoot."
Gandalf shook his head. "If I release her hose, he will bolt. Your arrow spooked him. As soon as I calm him, we will leave."
The swarthy man suspiciously eyed the pale girl sitting on her horse. "Who is she?" he asked. Mellamir looked at Gandalf, a similar question in her eyes.
"Mellamir," Gandalf said reluctantly, "meet Ghân-buri-Ghân, chief of the Druedain, who live in these woods." He paused, then grudgingly finished the introduction. "Master Ghân-buri-Ghân, this is Mellamir, child of Denethor."
"Father of Stonehouse-men?" the man asked, almost growling under his breath. "Take her out of my woods, now."
Gandalf looked at Mellamir's horse, whose breathing had slowed considerably. Judging her sufficiently calmed, Gandalf released the reins to Ghân-buri-Ghân and mounted his own horse.
"We release Stonehouse-children," Ghân-buri-Ghân said. "Who is greatest father?" He began to walk away, then turned back around. "Take her away, and do not bring her back. Ghân-buri-Ghân is great chief. He sees the stars in the sky and remembers they shine down on Stonehouse-men too. But other men of Ghân's, they are not so kind." And he disappeared into the woods.
They rode on through the forest. Gandalf asked Mellamir every so often if her horse was fine, and he would often slow his pace, but neither did he offer nor did Mellamir ask to stop as long as the forest lasted. At last they cleared the trees, and at a signal from Mellamir Gandalf stopped. They dismounted, and Gandalf began massaging Mellamir's horse.
"What was that about?" Mellamir asked as she offered her horse a carrot from her saddlebag.
"Hunting rights," Gandalf answered, sighing.
"What do you mean? They want to hunt our animals?"
"I wish it were that simple, Mellamir," Gandalf said. "No, he wants the men of Gondor and of Rohan to stop hunting his children." Mellamir looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. "Your father does not order his men to slaughter Ghân-buri-Ghân's folk, but he does not stop them. On occasion they come into the woods and hunt the Druedain, and when a man of Gondor dies to their arrows, your father counts it as if he had died to a beast in a hunt.
"There are many types of men," Gandalf continued, his eyes sorrowful, "many of them of noble race, but your father is wont to forget that. Any man who is not like himself is somehow less worthy, to Denethor's way of thinking. Yet Ghân-buri-Ghân comes from a proud, ancient line. Before the kings ever sailed from Númenor his ancestors built great fortresses. Today they hide away in these woods and want only to be left alone."
Now that she had left the woods, Mellamir caught her first glimpse of the lands north of the Ered Nimrais. She did not see many farms, and the land was much more rocky than nearer Minas Tirith. After she and Gandalf had ridden away from the forest, north toward the Anduin, Mellamir looked back and saw over the trees a great range of mountains rising up through the clouds.
"Is that...?" Mellamir wondered aloud.
"Nardol," Gandalf said. "One of the fire-beacons. Your father lights the first one, at Amon Dîn, high up in the mountains. Then the men at Eilenach see the light and kindle their own fire, and on down the line. They can see the last fire away in Rohan."
"So this is Anórien," she said absent-mindedly.
Gandalf nodded. "The sun-lands. The land is too rocky to be much good for farming, but some people still live here, hunters mostly." He paused, then looked back at the mountains. "Your father has never had reason to light the beacons, nor did his father, back through many generations. But some day the mountaintops may burn again. Denethor will need the help they can bring." With that, Gandalf gave Mellamir's horse a final pat, walked back to his own steed, and mounted. "Come along, Fangorn is still many miles away," he said, and the two of them rode toward the Anduin.
That evening they reached the riverbanks as the sun set, and they ate fish Gandalf caught for dinner. The next morning they rode along the western bank north toward the Entwash. How many days, Mellamir lost count, probably four or five. They slept, ate, rode, and rested--all the things one must do on a long journey--but Mellamir asked no more long questions. At last she saw the rushing falls of Rauros in the distance.
"The Argonath," Mellamir said, pleased to see a familiar sight. She pointed toward the great carved stone cliffs framing the falls.
Gandalf smiled. Mellamir was staring at the towering stone guardians six leagues off, but even at that distance they still impressed her. She saw the crowns on the back of their heads, their flowing robes, and their great arms stretched out, forbidding others to enter. She stopped her horse and was quiet for a moment, admiring them.
"They mark the ancient northern boundaries of Gondor," Gandalf continued at last. "Long ago, when the Númenóreans sailed to Middle-earth they built the Argonath to warn foreigners that they were entering the southern lands of the kings. Do not be afraid! I see the fear in your eyes. But the Argonath guard you and all Gondor."
"I am not afraid," Mellamir replied absent-mindedly. And she wasn't; she had heard of the Argonath from Delagond once, she just never imagined they would be so huge. But she wasn't really listening to Gandalf or even looking at the cliffs. No, she was trying to determine what that revolting smell was, brought on an easterly wind. She sniffed the air and wrinkled her face. "Eurgh! Do you smell it?"
Gandalf nodded. "The fields of Dagorlad lie beyond the Anduin, near the Black Gates."
"Dagorlad," Mellamir repeated, giving no indication of whether she recognised the name. She stared off into the distance, a blank look on her face, as Gandalf continued.
"When Elendil sailed to Middle-earth, the elf-lord Gil-galad had been fighting Sauron for over a millennium. Sauron feared Númenor and what it represented, and so he attacked Gondor, determined to stamp out this world of men. Gil-galad and Elendil forged an alliance to fight Sauron, and they challenged his vast army of orcs and other foul creatures on the fields of Dagorlad, past the Great River--"
"Enough," Mellamir said. "I know the old stories, and do not need reminding." Gandalf nodded, and at last Mellamir continued, trying to breathe more shallowly so she did not have to inhale the stench. "Let us leave this wretched place. The beauty of the Argonath cannot erase the stench of that ancient battle."
They left the Great River and rode along the Entwash for two more days. At last Gandalf stopped at the threshold of a great wall of trees. He turned to Mellamir and said, "You will see many things in this forest that you have never seen or heard tell of before. Remember: they are different, not wrong. No matter how frightened you are, know that nothing can hurt you so long as you are with me. This is Fangorn, not Mirkwood, and there are no dark lords hiding in here, however scary the forest might seem. Just remember, when we meet the Ents, allow me to speak first."