Date: 30 Nov 2001
The Early Years
Scene 1
Gweneleth was a golden-tressed maid of Rohan, the kingdom north of the White Mountains - an ally to Gondor. She was a daughter of one of the captains of King Théoden's cavalry. One day she met Olin, a tall, handsome young man-at-arms from Gondor, on one of his courier missions to the Court of Edoras in Rohan. There in the great Feast-Hall of Meduseld they met, fell in love, and were later married.
The first two years of their marriage were spent in Minas Tirith, the Throne City of Gondor, where Olin served as a knight of the Citadel Guard, under Denethor II, 26th Ruling Steward of the High Kings. Gweneleth conceived in midsummer of 3006, 3rd Age, and in the autumn Olin took her to Calembel, the chief village of the province of Lamedon, his place of birth, and the residence of his kin.
In the spring of the year 3007, a son was born to Gweneleth and Olin. He had the fair hair of his mother, instead of the dark locks of the Men of Gondor, descended from the Númenóreans of old, and his eyes were a dark, forest green, not gray.
Gweneleth called him "Llewyss" - a strange name, not one of Gondor's heroes of old, nor of Rohan's. How it came to her is not here told, but Gweneleth would not be gainsaid, and it became his "mother-name".
Ten years later, a daughter was born to Gweneleth and Olin, and she was called Rose Thistle. She had the dark hair and gray eyes of her father, and was most beloved of her parents and her brother.
Young Llewyss, at the age of twelve, had no visions of becoming a member of the Citadel Guard, like his father. In learning the knightly arts of the sword and the bow, he was an indifferent student. He had learned his "letters" and history and life skills easily, and he was bored. He began to spend much time wandering the fields, vales and mountainsides around Minas Tirith, learning of the wild things: flora and fauna, and living off the land,
much to his parents' dissatisfaction. He was always bringing back little creatures, much to the delight of his small sister, who, on several occasions, would have toddled off after him, had not her mother been watchful. His father was usually away in the Tower of Guard, high atop the seventh tier of the Fortress City, or out on some sortie into the borderlands. He regretted he could not spend more time with his family, but the minions of Mordor were
beginning to cause mischief in other realms.
At the onset of the War of the Rings, Olin had wanted to return his family to Calembel, as the Dark Days approached, but Gweneleth would not hear of it. So, they endured the fear of the siege of the city, and suffered the grief of Olin's death in the Battle of Pelennor Fields.
Gweneleth never fully recovered from the loss of her husband, and never remarried. Llewyss now surrendered his wanderlust to assume responsibility as male head of the family, in his own mind at least, but his eyes and heart ever strayed to the far distant horizons.
In the First Year of the Fourth Age of the Sun, Rose Thistle, at age five, mysteriously disappeared from the field surrounding their home. There had been rumors of skirmishes with Haradrim scouting parties, looking for slaves. It was never discovered whither she had been taken.
A year later Gweneleth died of her compounded grief, and Llewyss now felt an even greater emptiness in his life. He did not wish to return to the village of his father, that of his own birth, though he had numerous kin there. Nor did he wish to go to Edoras, though he knew he would be welcome by his mother's kin. He finally sold the small cottage and piece of land, and gathering up a few belongings, he bade farewell to a few friends. It was his
intention to wander north along the great river Anduin, wherever the path lead him. He knew he was walking into an uncertain future, but the sense of complete freedom was both exciting and a bit scary.
[Cont.]
The Early Years
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GreyMantle
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The Early Years
Last edited by GreyMantle on Tue Mar 14, 2006 6:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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GreyMantle
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Part Two
Date: 30 Nov 2001 23:42:23 EST
The Early Years
Scene 2
When he reached the east gate of the Rammas Echor, the great wall encircling the Fields of Pelennor, Llewyss had turned to look once more across the townlands with their neat cottages and fertile patchwork fields. Four leagues southwestward Minas Tirith, its white tower shining in the morning sun across the distance, nestled sturdily against the side of Mt. Mindolluin. And though he could not make it out, he imagined the banner of the King fluttering
joyfully in the steady breeze which always blew at that height, nigh on a thousand feet.
As he stood gazing, a horse came galloping up before him, it's young rider reining his steed to a dusty halt, calling out:
"Llewyss! Bide a moment!"
Llewyss immediately recognized one of his closest friends.
"Hullo, Erebrandir! Yer goin' t' break yer neck dashin' abou' like tha'! Or e'en worse, yer horse's! An' why all th' haste? Di' ye remember tha' ye owed me fer tha' bow I made ye?" he teased his younger friend with a smirk on his face.
"Nay, Llewyss.. I ha' no' fergotten tha'. But it seems tha' ye have fergotten t' say g'bye t' some o' yer friends!" he responded a bit unhappily. "An' now yer sneakin' off t' some far place wi'out so much as a 'by yer leave'. Must ye go?"
"I'm sorry, Erry ... I did'nae wish t' disturb ye in yer studies ... an' I ... I had somewhat t' do ere I departed," he apologized uncomfortably, looking off into the distance. "And, aye," he continued, "I must go. I have this longin' t' go out an' see this world we live in. Long have I heard th' tales of th' Rangers, abou' th' strange places and peoples." He sighed and looked back to his friend. "An' I ha' nae longer any reason t' stay here. But
I will miss ye, friend." He held his hand out and up to grasp that of Erebrandir. "But, Elbereth be willin', I may return one day. Farewell."
"Fare thee well, Llewyss, Son of Olin ... and as the Elves say, 'Anar kaluva tielyanna' - the Sun shall light your path."
Llewyss then turned and quickly passed through the huge gate and out along the road leading toward the ruins of Osgiliath.
[Cont.]
The Early Years
Scene 2
When he reached the east gate of the Rammas Echor, the great wall encircling the Fields of Pelennor, Llewyss had turned to look once more across the townlands with their neat cottages and fertile patchwork fields. Four leagues southwestward Minas Tirith, its white tower shining in the morning sun across the distance, nestled sturdily against the side of Mt. Mindolluin. And though he could not make it out, he imagined the banner of the King fluttering
joyfully in the steady breeze which always blew at that height, nigh on a thousand feet.
As he stood gazing, a horse came galloping up before him, it's young rider reining his steed to a dusty halt, calling out:
"Llewyss! Bide a moment!"
Llewyss immediately recognized one of his closest friends.
"Hullo, Erebrandir! Yer goin' t' break yer neck dashin' abou' like tha'! Or e'en worse, yer horse's! An' why all th' haste? Di' ye remember tha' ye owed me fer tha' bow I made ye?" he teased his younger friend with a smirk on his face.
"Nay, Llewyss.. I ha' no' fergotten tha'. But it seems tha' ye have fergotten t' say g'bye t' some o' yer friends!" he responded a bit unhappily. "An' now yer sneakin' off t' some far place wi'out so much as a 'by yer leave'. Must ye go?"
"I'm sorry, Erry ... I did'nae wish t' disturb ye in yer studies ... an' I ... I had somewhat t' do ere I departed," he apologized uncomfortably, looking off into the distance. "And, aye," he continued, "I must go. I have this longin' t' go out an' see this world we live in. Long have I heard th' tales of th' Rangers, abou' th' strange places and peoples." He sighed and looked back to his friend. "An' I ha' nae longer any reason t' stay here. But
I will miss ye, friend." He held his hand out and up to grasp that of Erebrandir. "But, Elbereth be willin', I may return one day. Farewell."
"Fare thee well, Llewyss, Son of Olin ... and as the Elves say, 'Anar kaluva tielyanna' - the Sun shall light your path."
Llewyss then turned and quickly passed through the huge gate and out along the road leading toward the ruins of Osgiliath.
[Cont.]
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GreyMantle
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Sat Mar 11, 2006 7:58 pm
- Location: Rhydin, Eldicor
Date: 01 Dec 2001 00:10:05 EST
The Early Years
Scene 3
A short distance along the road leading to Osgiliath, Llewyss turned around and looked back to his friend, Erebrandir, sitting astride his horse outside the gates in the Rammas Echor. Although four years apart in age, they had been close friends for years, sharing in many youthful adventures. He waved a final salute. He would miss Erry.
But the wanderlust was too powerful in him. Since he was old enough to wander around Minas Tirith on his own, he had sneaked away after supper to listen from the shadows of the common room of the Citadel Guard. The knights and rangers sat in front of the large fireplace, and told of their adventures and wanderings, firing his imagination, and he strained to hear every word. Often his father had discovered his sleepy form curled up, struggling to
stay awake, and would gently chide him for eavesdropping, as he carried the boy off to his own bed.
After the frightening days of the War of the Ring, and the loss of his father, Olin, Llewyss was allowed to join the men, asking questions of them, and learning much lore from them. The teenager was most attentive when they told tales of the woods and wilds during the Dark Days. And of Elves and Dwarves. And the deep forests of Mirkwood ... or the mines of Moria.
An hour later he passed among the ruins of the ancient city of Osgiliath, "The Citadel of the Stars", now reduced to forlorn wreckage by past wars and negligence. It was once the grandest city of Gondor, the throne-site of former Kings. Llewyss had often explored the ruins, wondering why the city had never been rebuilt. But only the great stone bridge across the Anduin had been repaired enough to allow passage over the wide waters of the river.
As the young man passed the eastern end of the bridge, he stepped off the road and headed north along the forested banks of the Anduin. His heart stirred with mixed emotions as he realized that now he was leaving behind the familiar faces and places, at the real beginning of his own adventures.
The afternoon sun beat down upon the Great River, and shattered into reflected brilliance beneath the trees along its eastern bank. Llewyss followed the path, which sometimes lead along the bank, and sometimes strayed into the forest, out of sight, but never quite out of earshot of the River. His second day of travel was nearing an end, and he now gave thought to finding a campsite.
He had never traveled this far into North Ithilien, and he took note of geographical landmarks, adding them to a map he had begun some time ago, as he had wandered farther afield from the Pelennor. He could have copied one of the many maps available in the Guard archives, but he preferred to make his own. He included points that were not on the older maps, such as good campsites, water sources, or easier routes through rough terrain. The mapmakers
of Gondor had already added some of his discoveries, he reflected proudly. When he returned, he should have uncovered enough to keep them busy for months.
When he returned - if he returned.
At this point he had no firm idea where he was going, much less his chances of ever returning: if he ever could, or would want to. He simply had to go "away yonder", perchance to visit some of the places he had heard of in stories, or read about in the Hall of History and Lore. The lure of the unknown overrode the possibility of danger.
It was told among the Rangers there were still deep, hidden places where dark things hid, licking their wounds after being soundly routed by the Speaking Peoples during the War of the Ring. They were only waiting and watching, and ready to seize upon the first opportunity for revenge.
Noon of the third day found Llewyss at the juncture of a stream, which joined the Anduin from the northeast. In the middle of the river just north of this point, dimly visible in the mists, emerged the island of Cair Andros, its narrow upper end dividing the waters like the prow of some great ship. He knew now that the stream lead deeper into the forest of Ithilien, to the wondrous, hidden falls of Henneth Annûn, which fell over a cavern: the
"Window of the Sunset".
In the last years leading up to the War of the Ring, these lands were forbidden to strangers, and were guarded by a small group of Rangers, who watched for the incursions of the Dark Lord's servants, and attacked them as they moved along the Harad Road skirting the feet of the Mountains of Shadow. Their convoys suffered greatly at the hands of the Rangers, as they moved north to the Black Gate.
Young Llewyss, though aware of it, gave no thought to this historical aspect of this fairest province of Gondor. He was looking forward to meeting with the current inhabitants, the Silvan Elves, who had settled in Ithilien with King Elessar's permission and blessing, at the dawning of the Fourth Age. They had come south out Eryn Lasgalen, once called Mirkwood, under the leadership of Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of that ancient wood.
He followed a path up-stream into the rolling country, where it soon sank into a deepening gorge.
"Strange tha' I have nae seen sign o' th' Elves..." he mused to himself, "they must surely know tha' I walk in their lands." He looked about as he stopped for a drink at the edge of the stream, beneath an ancient oak. "Like as not, they are watchin' me this moment. If all I have heard is true, they have known of m' approach since I entered th' forest north of Osgiliath!" He sat down on an extended root of the tree to rest.
"Can it be tha' they have all finally departed across th' Sea? I were so lookin' forward t' meetin' wi' them," He muttered aloud, disappointedly.
"Nay, young lad of Gondor, we are still here!"
[Cont.]
The Early Years
Scene 3
A short distance along the road leading to Osgiliath, Llewyss turned around and looked back to his friend, Erebrandir, sitting astride his horse outside the gates in the Rammas Echor. Although four years apart in age, they had been close friends for years, sharing in many youthful adventures. He waved a final salute. He would miss Erry.
But the wanderlust was too powerful in him. Since he was old enough to wander around Minas Tirith on his own, he had sneaked away after supper to listen from the shadows of the common room of the Citadel Guard. The knights and rangers sat in front of the large fireplace, and told of their adventures and wanderings, firing his imagination, and he strained to hear every word. Often his father had discovered his sleepy form curled up, struggling to
stay awake, and would gently chide him for eavesdropping, as he carried the boy off to his own bed.
After the frightening days of the War of the Ring, and the loss of his father, Olin, Llewyss was allowed to join the men, asking questions of them, and learning much lore from them. The teenager was most attentive when they told tales of the woods and wilds during the Dark Days. And of Elves and Dwarves. And the deep forests of Mirkwood ... or the mines of Moria.
An hour later he passed among the ruins of the ancient city of Osgiliath, "The Citadel of the Stars", now reduced to forlorn wreckage by past wars and negligence. It was once the grandest city of Gondor, the throne-site of former Kings. Llewyss had often explored the ruins, wondering why the city had never been rebuilt. But only the great stone bridge across the Anduin had been repaired enough to allow passage over the wide waters of the river.
As the young man passed the eastern end of the bridge, he stepped off the road and headed north along the forested banks of the Anduin. His heart stirred with mixed emotions as he realized that now he was leaving behind the familiar faces and places, at the real beginning of his own adventures.
The afternoon sun beat down upon the Great River, and shattered into reflected brilliance beneath the trees along its eastern bank. Llewyss followed the path, which sometimes lead along the bank, and sometimes strayed into the forest, out of sight, but never quite out of earshot of the River. His second day of travel was nearing an end, and he now gave thought to finding a campsite.
He had never traveled this far into North Ithilien, and he took note of geographical landmarks, adding them to a map he had begun some time ago, as he had wandered farther afield from the Pelennor. He could have copied one of the many maps available in the Guard archives, but he preferred to make his own. He included points that were not on the older maps, such as good campsites, water sources, or easier routes through rough terrain. The mapmakers
of Gondor had already added some of his discoveries, he reflected proudly. When he returned, he should have uncovered enough to keep them busy for months.
When he returned - if he returned.
At this point he had no firm idea where he was going, much less his chances of ever returning: if he ever could, or would want to. He simply had to go "away yonder", perchance to visit some of the places he had heard of in stories, or read about in the Hall of History and Lore. The lure of the unknown overrode the possibility of danger.
It was told among the Rangers there were still deep, hidden places where dark things hid, licking their wounds after being soundly routed by the Speaking Peoples during the War of the Ring. They were only waiting and watching, and ready to seize upon the first opportunity for revenge.
Noon of the third day found Llewyss at the juncture of a stream, which joined the Anduin from the northeast. In the middle of the river just north of this point, dimly visible in the mists, emerged the island of Cair Andros, its narrow upper end dividing the waters like the prow of some great ship. He knew now that the stream lead deeper into the forest of Ithilien, to the wondrous, hidden falls of Henneth Annûn, which fell over a cavern: the
"Window of the Sunset".
In the last years leading up to the War of the Ring, these lands were forbidden to strangers, and were guarded by a small group of Rangers, who watched for the incursions of the Dark Lord's servants, and attacked them as they moved along the Harad Road skirting the feet of the Mountains of Shadow. Their convoys suffered greatly at the hands of the Rangers, as they moved north to the Black Gate.
Young Llewyss, though aware of it, gave no thought to this historical aspect of this fairest province of Gondor. He was looking forward to meeting with the current inhabitants, the Silvan Elves, who had settled in Ithilien with King Elessar's permission and blessing, at the dawning of the Fourth Age. They had come south out Eryn Lasgalen, once called Mirkwood, under the leadership of Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of that ancient wood.
He followed a path up-stream into the rolling country, where it soon sank into a deepening gorge.
"Strange tha' I have nae seen sign o' th' Elves..." he mused to himself, "they must surely know tha' I walk in their lands." He looked about as he stopped for a drink at the edge of the stream, beneath an ancient oak. "Like as not, they are watchin' me this moment. If all I have heard is true, they have known of m' approach since I entered th' forest north of Osgiliath!" He sat down on an extended root of the tree to rest.
"Can it be tha' they have all finally departed across th' Sea? I were so lookin' forward t' meetin' wi' them," He muttered aloud, disappointedly.
"Nay, young lad of Gondor, we are still here!"
[Cont.]
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GreyMantle
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Sat Mar 11, 2006 7:58 pm
- Location: Rhydin, Eldicor
Subject: Re: The Early Years (Unfinished)
Date: 01 Dec 2001 00:34:19 EST
The Early Years
Scene 4
Llewyss jumped up and turned at the sound of the voice. Next to a nearby tree stood a tall, slender Elf, clad in forest hues, grinning, arms akimbo. The young man fought the impulse to reach for the hunting knife at his belt, as his logic told him that he might fare better without aggressive movements. He tore his gaze from the Elf long enough to glance about him, assessing his situation.
No others were to be seen.
Which did not mean that they did not surround him; only that they were not visible. He swallowed hard, wishing his heart would return to its proper realm, in his chest.
"Uh... Hullo!" He began hesitantly. "Umm.. my name is Llewyss ... I ... I come out of Minas Tirith."
He grinned uncertainly, trying to reflect the expression on the face of the Elf, who approached him casually, and walked around him, as though he was appraising the young man.
"Aye, young wanderer, we know." The Elf completed his scrutiny and stopped in front of Llewyss. "Long have we observed your progress northward into Ithilien." He motioned to the tree root upon which Llewyss had been sitting. "Finish your rest, while we talk."
Llewyss resumed his seat on the root, never taking his eyes off the other. "Umm ... who are you? Are you one of Legolas' people? I have been on m' way to Hennath Annûn, where th' Rangers say live some o' th' Silvan Elves, under Legolas."
"My name is Galadrond, and I do indeed serve Prince Legolas. Word was sent with the last Ranger patrol that you were afoot in Ithilien, and I was set the task of seeing that no harm came to you."
"Th' Rangers told you tha' I was comin' north? I am surprised tha' they knew of m' journeys. I have told practically no one where I was headed. I hardly know that m' self!" Llewyss fingered the star-shaped clasp at the gathering of his cloak.
Galadrond glanced at the clasp. "The Star of the King's Rangers. Well, well! Tell me, young Llewyss - how did a lad of your tender years come by it?"
"It were given me by some o' th' King's Rangers in memory of m' father, fer his service t' Gondor." Llewyss stood and continued his explanation, proudly. "M' father - Olin of Calembel - was once captain of a company of the Citadel Guard, ere his demise in the Battle of Pelennor Fields. 'Tis m' hope tha' one day I may wear it by m' own right. But fer th' moment it serves t' remind me o' m' own ancestry, and perchance lend me some o' th' courage o'
those now gone."
"Well said, Lad. Your father would be proud of you, I am sure. But if you would rightfully wear the livery of the King's Rangers, you have much to learn of this world, you know." He smiled at the boy.
"Aye, Galadrond ... I know tha'. 'Tis why I am set forth t' explore it!" He responded enthusiastically.
"Then come with me, Llewyss, Son of Olin. Let us commence this adventure of yours."
Llewyss picked up his pack and followed Galadhrond away from the river, and onto a path that lead deeper into the forest. They had not gone far when Llewyss turned around on impulse, to look behind him. There followed three other Elves, clad much as his guide, and armed with slender bows.
"Ack! I di'nae hear ye back there!" He grinned at the foremost of his followers.
"'Tis no wonder, young mortal! You heard us not, for the clamor of your own feet! You must learn to walk lightly, or at the least, with care!" The Elf smiled back at him tolerantly.
"Umm... Aye.. I shall try m' best!" He replied, somewhat abashed. He hurried on ahead to catch up with Galadhrond, watching the Elf's feet as they picked their way silently along the path.
"Are we makin' fer Henneth Annûn?" Llewyss asked, a bit nervously. "Tha' is where I were headed." He did not know yet whether he was a guest or prisoner. He had often heard tales of Men wandering into Elvish territory and never returning. Some said they had disappeared, forever.. others said they had not wished to return. His mind counseled that he would fare well if he displayed honesty and good will, although his imagination offered him no
comfort at the moment.
"And why make you for the Falls, young wanderer?" The Elf behind Llewyss asked him.
"Ah! I hear 'tis th' most beautiful of places in Ithilien, a realm full of beautiful places! An' since Prince Legolas ha' brought his folk here, I thought it wou' be a worthy beginning t' m' explorations!" He glanced back, wondering about the Elf's question. "D' ye think he will nae take kindly t' m' visit? I dinnae wish t' trespass, if I be unwelcome." The possibility had not seriously occurred to him, until now.
"We shall see, young Llewyss ... we shall soon see," the Elf responded with a cryptic smile on his ageless face.
[Author's Note: To Be Continued, one day ... perhaps. But for the nonce, our story jumps ahead some twenty-four years into the future.]
[ Continued in the thread Into the World of Rhydin ]
Date: 01 Dec 2001 00:34:19 EST
The Early Years
Scene 4
Llewyss jumped up and turned at the sound of the voice. Next to a nearby tree stood a tall, slender Elf, clad in forest hues, grinning, arms akimbo. The young man fought the impulse to reach for the hunting knife at his belt, as his logic told him that he might fare better without aggressive movements. He tore his gaze from the Elf long enough to glance about him, assessing his situation.
No others were to be seen.
Which did not mean that they did not surround him; only that they were not visible. He swallowed hard, wishing his heart would return to its proper realm, in his chest.
"Uh... Hullo!" He began hesitantly. "Umm.. my name is Llewyss ... I ... I come out of Minas Tirith."
He grinned uncertainly, trying to reflect the expression on the face of the Elf, who approached him casually, and walked around him, as though he was appraising the young man.
"Aye, young wanderer, we know." The Elf completed his scrutiny and stopped in front of Llewyss. "Long have we observed your progress northward into Ithilien." He motioned to the tree root upon which Llewyss had been sitting. "Finish your rest, while we talk."
Llewyss resumed his seat on the root, never taking his eyes off the other. "Umm ... who are you? Are you one of Legolas' people? I have been on m' way to Hennath Annûn, where th' Rangers say live some o' th' Silvan Elves, under Legolas."
"My name is Galadrond, and I do indeed serve Prince Legolas. Word was sent with the last Ranger patrol that you were afoot in Ithilien, and I was set the task of seeing that no harm came to you."
"Th' Rangers told you tha' I was comin' north? I am surprised tha' they knew of m' journeys. I have told practically no one where I was headed. I hardly know that m' self!" Llewyss fingered the star-shaped clasp at the gathering of his cloak.
Galadrond glanced at the clasp. "The Star of the King's Rangers. Well, well! Tell me, young Llewyss - how did a lad of your tender years come by it?"
"It were given me by some o' th' King's Rangers in memory of m' father, fer his service t' Gondor." Llewyss stood and continued his explanation, proudly. "M' father - Olin of Calembel - was once captain of a company of the Citadel Guard, ere his demise in the Battle of Pelennor Fields. 'Tis m' hope tha' one day I may wear it by m' own right. But fer th' moment it serves t' remind me o' m' own ancestry, and perchance lend me some o' th' courage o'
those now gone."
"Well said, Lad. Your father would be proud of you, I am sure. But if you would rightfully wear the livery of the King's Rangers, you have much to learn of this world, you know." He smiled at the boy.
"Aye, Galadrond ... I know tha'. 'Tis why I am set forth t' explore it!" He responded enthusiastically.
"Then come with me, Llewyss, Son of Olin. Let us commence this adventure of yours."
Llewyss picked up his pack and followed Galadhrond away from the river, and onto a path that lead deeper into the forest. They had not gone far when Llewyss turned around on impulse, to look behind him. There followed three other Elves, clad much as his guide, and armed with slender bows.
"Ack! I di'nae hear ye back there!" He grinned at the foremost of his followers.
"'Tis no wonder, young mortal! You heard us not, for the clamor of your own feet! You must learn to walk lightly, or at the least, with care!" The Elf smiled back at him tolerantly.
"Umm... Aye.. I shall try m' best!" He replied, somewhat abashed. He hurried on ahead to catch up with Galadhrond, watching the Elf's feet as they picked their way silently along the path.
"Are we makin' fer Henneth Annûn?" Llewyss asked, a bit nervously. "Tha' is where I were headed." He did not know yet whether he was a guest or prisoner. He had often heard tales of Men wandering into Elvish territory and never returning. Some said they had disappeared, forever.. others said they had not wished to return. His mind counseled that he would fare well if he displayed honesty and good will, although his imagination offered him no
comfort at the moment.
"And why make you for the Falls, young wanderer?" The Elf behind Llewyss asked him.
"Ah! I hear 'tis th' most beautiful of places in Ithilien, a realm full of beautiful places! An' since Prince Legolas ha' brought his folk here, I thought it wou' be a worthy beginning t' m' explorations!" He glanced back, wondering about the Elf's question. "D' ye think he will nae take kindly t' m' visit? I dinnae wish t' trespass, if I be unwelcome." The possibility had not seriously occurred to him, until now.
"We shall see, young Llewyss ... we shall soon see," the Elf responded with a cryptic smile on his ageless face.
[Author's Note: To Be Continued, one day ... perhaps. But for the nonce, our story jumps ahead some twenty-four years into the future.]
[ Continued in the thread Into the World of Rhydin ]
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