• Options
• Login
• Register
• Desktop Style
• Accelerated Mobile Pages Theme

MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

• Index

  • Science Fiction and Fantasy Community Forums
  • Science Fiction and Fantasy
  • Fan Fiction and Poems
  • MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'
• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > December 25th, 2007, 02:59 PM

  Here follows an excerpt from a document that purports to be a memoir of Elrond, which by the author’s own statement was written during the two year interval between the wedding of his daughter, and his own Departure over the Sea, as documented as fiction by Prof. Tolkien in The Lord of the Rings. The translator has entitled this document, collectively, Many Defeats, and Many Fruitless Victories: A Memoir of Elrond Son of Eärendil.
  
  Please note that the work of translation continues, therefore some events to which the author has alluded in this selection will have to await the translation of the chapters in which they occur for full elucidation.
  
  Ere we continue, the translator wishes to notify readers that the author has stated in the original preface to this opus that Elves, particularly those who are related or have long been otherwise closely associated, often communicate much by means of expressions and gestures usually so subtle that Men, particularly those unused to the ways of Elves, seldom even detect their exchange, giving rise to the popular belief that Elves or particular peoples of Elves possess what we would call “telepathic” abilities. Many exchanges between Elves in this account are of this kind; the author states that he rendered many of them into equivalent spoken dialog for better comprehension by his intended Mannish readers.
  
  Since neither Elrond as written of by Prof. Tolkien, nor the author of this memoir (if we make the obligatory if somewhat cynical researcher’s assumption they might not be one and the same) were modern writers, they did not engage in certain practices fashionable among modern writers, such as prefacing their writings with an epigram quoted from some other work, by way of an abstract or hint of what is to follow. This translator undertakes to rectify that lack, if the reader perceives a lack, with a quotation from the writings of Prof. Tolkien’s colleague and friend C.S. Lewis.
  
  

  Quote:It is the magician’s bargain: give up our soul, get power in return. But once our souls, that is, ourselves, have been given up, the power thus conferred will not belong to us. We shall in fact be the slaves and puppets of that to which we have given our souls.
  “The Abolition of Man”
  

  
  
  With that weighty matter dispensed, the account now proceeds.
  

  ---

  An Embassy To "Fate"
  
  Being a selection from Many Defeats and Many Fruitless Victories; a Memoir of Elrond Son of Eärendil.
  
  
  It had not been long, even as Men reckon the years, after the debate of the legates of Aman with Tar-Atanamir of Númenor, when our king summoned me from Imladris to bear an embassy to a lord of Men in Middle-Earth.
  
  Only a scant few years after my return from that that conclave of Tar-Atanamir, and my subsequent brief sojourn in Eressëa, we received word Tar-Atanamir had indeed been taken by death, unwilling and in dotage, without having first yielded the Sceptre to his son as had been customary. To our consternation, we soon learned that the High King of Númenór, and his heir the T'ernil Ancalimon, had been utterly unmoved by the earnest words of the emissaries of Aman. For the first time since my brother founded the Kingdom, we received no official notice at Lindon of the High King’s passing, nor an invitation to attend the funeral and the coronation that ensued. News reached us on this occasion as rumor from sailors and from the Númenóreans dwelling upon the hither shore.
  
  Gil-Galad upon discovering this nonetheless had dispatched an embassy to Númenór to bear his respects and greetings to the new High King. In consideration for my own recent grief, a lesser herald from Forlindon was sent to Armenelos in my stead. He was received coolly by the new King, Tar-Ancalimon, and all his court save, of course, Irimon the incumbent Lord of Andúnië, who extended hospitality to this emissary of Gil-Galad as his father Lord Elendur had welcomed me previously. That herald returned in due time, and since that embassy concluded there had been no officially sanctioned communication between the court of the High King at Armenelos, and Lindon.
  
  So matters had stood, ere that year of which I now write, the two thousandth two hundred forty-eighth year after the judgement of Morgoth,  which was the twenty-seventh year of Tar-Ancalimon’s reign. Now Gil-Galad bade me present myself at court in Forlindon, prepared for a journey by water, and suggested I might bring Glorfindel  as my pursuivant and companion. It had not been the king’s custom, you understand, to name my aides and companions for my missions, but to leave such matters to my own discretion and judgement. However, it was in my heart already, apart from the rede of Gil-Galad, that Glorfindel indeed should accompany me on this occasion; therefore I surmised that Gil-Galad had been similarly inspired.
  
  Leaving Imladris, and privily, Vilya, in the care of Erestor, we set forth on palfreys, traveling westwards on the dwarf-highway. With excellent travelling weather we made good time, encountering habitations and other travellers ere we reached the crossing of Hoarwell. Men and Elves had by now returned to dwell in northern Eriador, the lands having been cleansed in the aftermath of the late war. Under the protection of Lindon, Men had been settling again the lands here and there from Bruinen to Baranduin.
  
  Moreover we noted that many more Dwarves  seemed to travel the highroad, often in laden cavalcades using beasts tended by Men in their employ, than was usual aforetime even in the days of their friendship with lost Eregion. It was rumored indeed that the great mansions of the Children of Aulë were lately prospering with grand discoveries of gems and precious metals, including the rare and curious metal mithril that was now found at Dwarrowdelf in suffient quantities to be utilized practically in the crafting of arms and useful objects, though it remained very dear. The Dwarves, naturally, would not speak directly of these matters themselves. Understandably, I then reasoned, they would not wish to depress the market price of their goods by allowing their clients to perceive the existence of a surplus.
  
  As always Glorfindel was a most agreeable traveling companion, continually singing and declaiming, and befriending all whom we met if they would have it so. We reached in time a crossing of the high-roads, and that village of Men that they had named Hillcrest in one of their nearly forgotten archaic tongues. To these men, the word now signified the name of their community rather than the modest geographical feature with which it was associated.
  
  Glorfindel on this occasion conceived a desire to visit the town and commune there with the Men rather than make camp in the wood, to which impulse I assented. We were admitted graciously into the stockade that circumscribed the village, where the inhabitants regarded us with rather furtive awe and wonder. Though these Men dwelt in peace and friendship owning Gil-Galad as their overlord, it was uncommon for Elves, particularly Noldor and highborn Sindar, to visit their habitations without compelling cause.
  
  We were conducted to the wooden hall that served as a place of folkmoot and hospitality while seemingly every man, woman, and child of that place crowded along our path. While most were drawn by the rare opportunity to see and hear nobles of the court of the Elven-King, others, knowing my fame as a healer, specifically sought my services as a physician.
  
  Competent Men took charge of our palfreys, feeding and rubbing them down expertly. In keeping with their rustic but sincere customs of hospitality, the villagers offered refreshment to both Glorfindel and myself. Seized with a curiosity regarding their attainments in the arts of brewing, I partook of their beer, while Glorfindel requested water. A great trencher of fruits fresh and dried, bread, and cheese was set before us, which we sampled but permitted the hungry children and beggars to surreptitously consume as the evening proceeded. The beer was earthy and bitter and in need of straining, but possessed a faint bouquet as of roasting nuts, and a certain warming, sustaining quality.
  
  A rough brown earthenware bowl was passed to Glorfindel, who quaffed the clean springwater gratefully. Seating himself upon one of the trestle tables near the hearth, he brought forth his harp and began to play, while I rendered such aid as I could for the hurts and ailments the Men bore. Laying my scalpel blade in the hearthcoals for flamecleansing, I examined supplicants and conferred quietly with the village leech, advising him on treatments and use of remedies. These Men had lately taken to cultivating athelas brought from Númenór, and thus were better provided with medicaments than was usual with Men other than the Númenóreans. Very quickly a tea of kingsfoil, as it was called already in that day, was set to steep at the hearth, where it filled the hall with its bracing lenitive aroma. I lanced boils and treated suppurating wounds and fevers, while Glorfindel provided music.
  
  As I continued my ministrations, Glorfindel lifted his voice and performed airs of Aman and of lost Gondolin for the rapt audience gathered around us. While he sang, the entire hall, and the yard outside that had filled with those for whom no more space could be found within, fell utterly silent save for the crackling of the hearth-fire and the clear voice of Glorfindel. Every eye was upon him and every ear attended hungrily to the notes of his song as famished bees to the nectar of the first flowers of spring.
  
  Glorfindel sang of his youth in Valinor as a scion of the noble House of the Golden Flower, from of old loyal retainers of the House of Finwë. We were seemingly present when Glorfindel kneeling was received with due pomp into the service of Turgon son of Fingolfin. He sang of the high-hearted though violence-blighted march, from Eldamar through the bitter North and across the terrible icy straits into embattled Middle-Earth. For these Men he portrayed the ominous figure and awful voice of the Judge of the Aratar pronouncing in the wasteland the ordained doom of the rebellious Exiles, which for love of Turgon Glorfindel suffered, following his liege onward over the Ice.
  
  He sang of Nevrast as he knew it long ago, emulating the sursurration of the waves on the shore and the call of the swans upon Lineawen. He sang of brave Vinyamar and its fair hall facing the Sea, and the commanding majesty of Turgon, whose countenance drew Noldor and shoreland Sindar alike to his allegience.
  
  Like spying birds the listening Men imagined Turgon’s folk vanishing stealthily from knowledge, over shadowed paths of which none spoke, into his hidden fastness fifty-two years in the building. For hours it seemed Glorfindel sang the praises of fair Gondolin, Turgon’s dream and memory of forsaken faery Tirion in Valinor, rendered into stone and bright metal upon Amon Gwareth, so faithfully and skillfully as to in truth rival its ancient archetype in the Calacyrian.
  
  The listening Men cheered when Turgon sallied forth with his coruscant host in the Nirnaeth, with Glorfindel as one of his chief captains. Falling unlooked-for upon the hordes of Orcs and renegade Men like an argent thunderbolt through dry tinder, Gondolin nigh turned the tide for Fingon and Maedhros. The audience shuddered and wept when Turgon realized even his intrepid might did not suffice, and he must needs withdraw from the field lest he also be caught and destroyed for naught in the wrack of Morgoth’s dark triumph.
  
  Horrified they observed the doom of Gondolin coming even as Ulmo Oceanlord warned. The host of dragons and monstrous creatures ruined Tumladen, besieging the fair white walls and dismantling them stone by stone in a relentless gyre of flame and steel. They gasped as Glorfindel, warding the fugitives, faced the Balrog at the waist of the pass. Seemingly before their eyes he wrested it into the abyss with himself so that Idril, my grandsire Tuor the axeman, the boy Eärendil my father, and their remaining few companions (including Pengolod his tutor, who would instruct myself and my brother in our turn), might win past and escape, bearing with them in their flight nigh all the remaining hopes of Elves and Men.
  
  Then, Glorfindel sang of coming to himself again in Aman, his sojourn in the fair Garden of rest and refreshment, and his subsequent quest for fulfillment and worthy service that at length led him hither to Middle-Earth, and finally to my own household.
  
  The song of Glorfindel in the dusk seemed to reach our ears as an echo out of the Elder days that had passed, such as the listening Men enjoy now by special grace seldom granted. In that hour I perceived that the Sundering of Men and Elves, which even by then had already commenced, would proceed inevitably until High Elves never would again be seen by eyes or heard by ears of Men in Middle-Earth, and we would by then be for them a matter of legend and song only. The sages had repeatedly spoken to me so, as I have related previously. I deem, however, that only now, upon this occasion of which I write, did those words find their true abode in my heart.
  
  I now understood that we Elves are denizens of the past that inexorably departs from this world – indeed Glorfindel in that day represented an anachronism already, permitted temporarily to remain with us only by a singular dispensation – while the surrounding faces, smeared with grime and sweat in that rude hall of logs in the light of the fire and the rosy specks of waning sunlight peeping through the chinks, were the faces of Middle-Earth’s future yet to come.
  
  I believed that I then glimpsed wherefore the evil Powers secretly feared Men even while affecting contempt for them, and for what cause Men were especially beloved of the Allfather and destined by Him to receive dominion over Middle-Earth. Not for the first time nor the last, I reflected that my elder twin had joined himself to the race whose day in Arda even now had only dawned, whatever his successors in Númenór might do, while I had seemingly chosen to cling to the archaic world of Elves that even now passes from Middle-Earth.
  
  When Glorfindel had concluded his autobiographical lays, I joined him in the hymns to Varda Starqueen and other songs of reverence and hope. Scarce had Glorfindel’s voice and harp stilled than the cocks greeted the rising Sun. Although seemingly none had truly slept, save for our palfreys in the stable, all were invigorated and gladdened when dawn came to the crossroads and the community called ‘Hillcrest.’
  
  [continues...]

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Rhadamanthus > December 29th, 2007, 03:19 PM

  We await with pleasurable anticipation the continuance of these memoirs.
  
  
  Rh

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Valandil > December 30th, 2007, 08:27 AM

  Yes - I am also part of that very same "we"!

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > January 9th, 2008, 10:40 PM

  Thank you, dear friends. I will try to live up to your expectations.
  
  

  ---

  
  Departing "Hillcrest" in the early morn, we took the westward road skirting Tyrn Gorthad (which in that day was still a place of reverence rather than terror) and Tauriaur the remnant of the great forest of the Elder Days in Eriador. We were ferried over the Baranduin to the marches of Gil-Galad's demesne, the fertility of which had been restored since its occupation and befouling by the Enemy. Reaching Mithlond on an afternoon, we found the haven quieter than had been usual at this hour in times only recently past. In these ominous days of which I write, ships very seldom sailed from Mithlond to Númenór as of old at the midday flood tide, their accustomed time for departure. The coastwise ships and the fishermen had already left port with the dawn's tide, and of course the occasional ships bound for Aman, ferrying primarily those weary ones intending to Depart these hither shores for ever, would not set sail until twilight.
  
  Cirdan greeted us and showed us the vessel being prepared for our own voyage, though being ever courteous and mindful of protocol he spoke no word concerning our destination and mission, that being of course Gil-Galad's prerogative. The ship was rigged and fitted out for that coastwise voyage of moderate duration southwards we intended. We then embarked on the ferry to pass over the firth of Lune to Forlindon.
  
  At the water-stair at Forlindon, we alighted from the ferry and proceeded to a paved terrace at the summit of the cliff. This open concourse was one of Gil-Galad's accustomed courts for holding audience, and for assemblies with his ministers, in clement weather. From its high eminence overlooking the estuary, distant Harlindon and the southern mountains could be viewed in the waning day. Here Gil-Galad now received us, and bade his servants serve us wine, fruit, fish, and bread, while we conferred earnestly among ourselves.
  
  The king was this day more somber even than had been usual with him aforetime, for ominous portents and disquieting tidings arrived at his court, as they had also at my seat in Imladris, with ever-increasing frequency. Sauron troubled our thoughts sorely, as he himself lurked now silent to us, so far as we knew, in his defended land of Mordor. Such sparse rumor as ever reached us from the farther East and South, however, indicated that he and his vile servants were by no means idle. The disposition of the lost sixteen great rings of the Mirdain, as well as the question of what Sauron might accomplish with his abominable Ruling Ring, perplexed us and filled us with apprehension. Happily, all of the peoples of Elves known to us, even the silvan folk of the east who were ever cool towards our counsel, were inclined now to heed our warnings of the peril of the Rings. However, other Elves in lands beyond our ken, sundered from our peoples since the days of the Great Journey, might in their presumed ignorance be tempted.
  
  Already I have told of the rumor that Celebrimbor had himself gifted Durin, king of the Dwarves of Khazad-dúm, with a Ring of Power in the high days of their friendship prior to the war. I have told how I myself went, as an emissary of Gil-Galad, to the reigning Durin to warn him of his peril, but the Dwarves, as one might expect, brusquely denied even knowledge of such a talisman. Nonetheless, the possibility that Sauron might bestow the other Rings of Power upon mortals, and the implications of such an expedient, hardly entered our thought even now at this time.
  
  The Númenóreans were by now establishing realms upon the shores of Middle-Earth southwards of Lindon. In many places they were becoming haughty in their dealings with the native Men. Already the peoples of the country of Eriador south of Gil-Galad's domain held a deadly grudge against the Númenóreans for the denuding of their forests before the war of Eregion. Now rumors came of reaving and of outright wars of conquest by Númenóreans in further places.
  
  The shadow that lay now over the King and people of Númenór was a matter of gravest concern, as we perceived even then that great woe could come of it, particularly if Sauron should contrive by some means to turn it to his advantage. Since their humiliating intervention in his war on Eregion, Sauron's indignation against Númenór was caustic and lethal. We feared in council that Sauron might at least instigate division, insurrection, and civil war among the Númenóreans and, while they were thus engaged and weakened, conquer them piecemeal. At length he might even essay to assemble an armada to invade Númenór itelf, and so have his vengeance for Tar-Ernil Minastir's  interference.
  
  We speculated also that Sauron might contrive to overshadow Númenór more subtly, making the high Kings his unknowing proxies, and through means of the pitiless empire already establishing itself in Middle-Earth come to dominate all the world of Men. We discounted the likelihood of that scenario, because in that case Sauron would be required to suffer the men he despised to enjoy a form of despotic prosperity that probably would not suit his rancor. Of darker possibilities that eclipsed our hearts we did not at that time speak among even ourselves, but we knew that for Sauron to gain control over Númenór he must offer seductive and potent inducements.
  
  Tar-Atanamir, who had beseeched the Valar to grant him entry to Aman, indeed had by now unwillingly received his Gift instead. His heir Tar-Ancalimon had proved even haughtier and less accessible to wisdom than his father had been. From his ear and his court we were excluded entirely, while such elf-friends as yet remained in Númenór (except the still highly-esteemed House of the Lords of Andúnië) were subject to scorn and even harassment. In recent years a considerable number of the colonists who arrived on the shores of Eriador and the lands of the northern shore of the Bay of Belfalas were Elf-friends, and those dismayed by the Kings' attitude towards the Valar, seeking refuge.
  
  The subject of Númenór's apostasy continued to be an acutely painful topic for myself, as I was tempted to believe at that time Elros my brother not only may be forever lost to me, but moreover lost utterly for naught, as it seemed all his works were being unmade, but I had now learned to bear the thought patiently.
  
  It was therefore with mingled hope and unease we regarded the epistle Gil-Galad had received from the Númenórean lord styling himself King of Umbar. It seems that this personage had requested specifically that I myself, as chief envoy of Lindon, visit the haven of Umbar where there was a Númenórean colony, in order that that I might on Gil-Galad's behalf exchange greetings and tokens of friendship between Umbar and Lindon. My liege had decided that I should reply to this invitation by presenting myself as requested. We perceived that by so doing, with the further aid of Glorfindel and his qualities unique in Middle-Earth, not only could we pursue friendly relations with a major Númenórean vassal state in Middle-Earth as seemingly suggested by the letter, but we might furthermore avail ourselves of a singular opportunity to gather facts regarding many of the great matters that had caused us concern.
  
  None of us at that time had considered that the name 'Umbar' [Quenya "Fate"] might be portentous. The original similar name was in fact said to be an alien Southron name of forgotten significance surviving from the Elder days. Númenórean adventurers and settlers reshaped the old name slightly to its familiar Quenya homophone. Old Pengolod would have been intrigued by this linguistic transformation, had he yet dwelt upon the hither shore and learned of it.
  
  [continues...]

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > January 18th, 2008, 04:24 AM

  I thought myself bold to create a character that walked through Middle-earth without really touching it. But I am surpassed by your taking up the tale of an actual Tolkien character and giving to him voice.
  
  Nonetheless, unless your story soon develops a point that the casual reader of Tolkien is not already aware of, you are about to put your audience to sleep.
  
  Update: I repent that earlier statement. It was I that was asleep! For I missed your casual reference to an embassy to the Dwarves of Moria regarding the dangers of the Ring that they had (allegedly) received from Celebrimbor.
  
  Indeed, your story is filled with assertions, such as Elrond having left his Ring in the keeping of another when he travelled outside of Imladris on an errand for Gil-galad, that raise eyebrows.
  
  The giving of a Ring of Power to a Dwarf by anyone other than Sauron, stated as fact?
  
  Elrond possessing a Ring prior to receiving Vilya from Gil-galad? The classic dispersion I thought was Galadriel, Cirdan, and Gil-galad.
  
  Are you having a game with us? Are we meant to be suspicious of the "translator"?

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > January 18th, 2008, 12:33 PM

  Elrond and Glorfindel would have had favorable winds and currents to speed them by ship from Lindon to Umbar.
  
  A return trip might require going by way of Numenor. Or beating up the coast against the wind. A journey of much longer duration, in any event.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > January 19th, 2008, 11:00 AM

  Mordomin Wrote:I thought myself bold to create a character that walked through Middle-earth without really touching it.  But I am surpassed by your taking up the tale of an actual Tolkien character and giving to him voice.

  
  I will consider that a compliment, from a pro. Thank you.
  (added:  )  even if it's the ambitious scope & audacity you praise, rather than the quality of the execution! :party:
  
  

  Quote:Nonetheless, unless your story soon develops a point that the casual reader of Tolkien is not already aware of, you are about to put your audience to sleep.

  
  I feared this section was a bit prone to 'drag.' Alas, 'Elrond' writes from a historical viewpoint to which Men are unaccustomed, as he personally lived much of that history. Sometimes he is at pains to distinguish what he observed, believed, and knew at that time of which he writes from what he has learned in retrospect as of the time he supposedly wrote the memoir. Hopefully the translator & I can contrive to spare the audience more of those pains henceforth.
  
  

  Quote:...I missed your casual reference to an embassy to the Dwarves of Moria regarding the dangers of the Ring that they had (allegedly) received from Celebrimbor.
  
  ...
  
  The giving of a Ring of Power to a Dwarf by anyone other than Sauron, stated as fact?

  
  Hmmm, that's a good question. As we all know, the existence of such a rumor or belief, if not its truth, is canonical at least. I think if you read 'Elrond's' words on this subject carefully, it is clear that this rumor became known to Gil-galad & Elrond in some fashion and was pursued. The timing of this event seems to be during the interval between Sauron's donning of the Ruling Ring, and his march upon Eregion after Celebrimbor et al refused his demands. The Dwarves denied it, & it would appear from what is translated & published so far Elrond discovered no direct evidence they did indeed possess or know of a Ring at that point in time. The Dwarves might have denied knowledge at that time because they wished to keep their Ring a secret, or they might have denied knowledge because they indeed had none.
  
  Therefore, nothing is confirmed, & nothing is contradicted.
  
  
  

  Quote:Indeed, your story is filled with assertions, such as Elrond having left his Ring in the keeping of another when he travelled outside of Imladris on an errand for Gil-galad, that raise eyebrows.
  
  ...
  
  Elrond possessing a Ring prior to receiving Vilya from Gil-galad?  The classic dispersion I thought was Galadriel, Cirdan, and Gil-galad.

  
  I'm glad the translator & I could give your eyebrows a workout. It did seem peculiar, but then most of the canonical sources were rather vague, like the lords of the Eldar themselves, regarding when and where the Three were bestowed. I do note that the Red Book derived (RBD) semicanonical document "The History of Galadriel and Celeborn" published in Unfinished Tales says somewhat on the subject in its discussion of the Eregion War (which ended in SA 1701 or 1702) and its immediate aftermath. It describes a postwar 'summit' of the lords of the Eldar, on which subject this passage appears:

  Quote:At this time the first Council was held, and it was there determined that an Elvish stronghold in the east of Eriador should be maintained at Imladris rather than in Eregion. At that time also Gil-galad gave Vilya, the Blue Ring, to Elrond, and appointed him to be his vice-regent in Eriador; but the Red Ring he kept, until he gave it to Cirdan when he set out from Lindon in the days of the Last Alliance.

  
  So it would appear there is an RBD witness to the timing and circumstances of Elrond's custody of Vilya that agrees with this account, set some 5-1/2 centuries later. Elrond being an Elf, he still refers to the 5-1/2 centuries ended Eregion War in this account as "the late war."
  
  As to leaving the Ring in Imladris, bear in mind that as of that time Sauron holds the Ruling Ring, therefore Elrond cannot wield Vilya 'openly' (I am unclear to what extent the Elves might wield the Rings at all under those circumstances without being caught by Sauron) It was probably prudent not to carry Vilya into a foriegn country among unknown risks, but to leave it in the relative safety of his stronghold. I should think it more strange Elrond would write of it, but as of the time he writes the memoir, Vilya has been shorn of power and little if any cause remains to keep it secret. The bearers of the Three all revealed them when they gathered later at Mithlond.
  
  

  Quote:Are you having a game with us?  Are we meant to be suspicious of the "translator"?

  
  Ah, but of course. :hat: The translator, however, is simply an honest scholar attempting to reveal a fascinating document as accurately and faithfully as he can. We are not in a position to speak for the original author's veracity except inasmuch as his assertions are verifiable. However, I have no reason to believe that the Elrond of canon, especially given his stated purposes in producing this memoir for posterity if it was he, would be an 'unreliable narrator' even if the style in which the translation is narrated is inspired somewhat by Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > January 23rd, 2008, 04:26 AM

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:As to leaving the Ring in Imladris, bear in mind that as of that time Sauron holds the Ruling Ring, therefore Elrond cannot wield Vilya 'openly' (I am unclear to what extent the Elves might wield the Rings at all under those circumstances without being caught by Sauron) It was probably prudent not to carry Vilya into a foriegn country among unknown risks, but to leave it in the relative safety of his stronghold. I should think it more strange Elrond would write of it, but as of the time he writes the memoir, Vilya has been shorn of power and little if any cause remains to keep it secret.

  Prudence did not instruct Ringwearers how to dispose of their Rings. You could make a better case by saying that Elrond did not wish to wear his Ring before the Numenorian King, whose lust for eternal life had become clear to the Elves by this time. But since we are told that Three are only visible to other wearers of the Three (or the One), Elrond would not have been concerned on that detail.
  
  However, this (Elrond having Vilya) ties nicely back to an earlier part of your tale. Elrond could see that Durin wore an Elven (by then Dwarven) Ring, because Elrond also wore one at the time of their meeting. Any other emissary would not have been able to so easily make that determination.
  
  Of course, after having administered his warning re. Sauron, Elrond refused to confirm that he had seen a Ring on Durin's finger. Perhaps that was the price of his silence.
  
  Btw, how did Elrond gain entry to Moria to have this chat? Did he know the password for the West Gate? Because we know (from Gandalf) that at the time of the war that destroyed Eregion, the Gates of Moria were closed.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > January 24th, 2008, 10:21 AM

  For reasons I explained in the other thread you so thoughtfully opened to discuss this issue (in so doing saving me the trouble), Elrond would not have had Vilya at that time (just prior to Sauron's attack on Eregion in SA 1695, apparently) & would not have worn it if he did, so the premise, though intriguing, is moot.
  
  As to entering Moria, IIRC it was stated that while the Dwarves dwelt in Moria, the West Gate was guarded by warders who could open it when signalled, or even normally left open and guarded. IIRC this was in "The Hunt for the Ring" in UT.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > January 24th, 2008, 12:08 PM

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:For reasons I explained in the other thread you so thoughtfully opened to discuss this issue (in so doing saving me the trouble)

  Why should I have all the fun?:party:

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:Elrond would not have had Vilya at that time (just prior to Sauron's attack on Eregion in SA 1695, apparently)

  I am convinced of this.

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:& would not have worn it if he did, so the premise, though intriguing, is moot.

  Hold it right there. You say that Elrond, had he been the owner of Vilya at the time of your story, would not have worn the Ring on his embassy to Durin. Why?

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:As to entering Moria, IIRC it was stated that while the Dwarves dwelt in Moria, the West Gate was guarded by warders who could open it when signalled, or even normally left open and guarded. IIRC this was in "The Hunt for the Ring" in UT.

  Gandalf mentions door wardens during "The Ring Goes South", too. I thought that your story took place after the West Gate was shut. You have made it clear that Elrond's embassy took place after Celebrimbor gave the Ring to Durin but before the One Ring was forged.
  
  My bad.
  
  

  Alvin Eriol Wrote:I will consider that a compliment, from a pro. Thank you.
  (added: ) even if it's the ambitious scope & audacity you praise, rather than the quality of the execution!

  Just because you praise me as a "pro", it does not, IMO, entitle me to critique your 'execution'. Besides, you are in mid-story, if I have read correctly. Let the full tale be told.
  
  The questions I have posed have been those of a reader seeking information.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > February 9th, 2008, 02:30 PM

  At dawn Glorfindel and I embarked upon the ship Círdan had prepared, departing with the morning tide, with a crew of three experienced Falathrim sailors. We ran before a fair wind along the coast of Eriador southwards at a goodly pace. Rounding the cape of Andrast, we called at Edhelond upon the Bay of Belfalas. We then visited a nearby colony of Númenóreans still faithful to the Valar, though in contrast with many of their compatriots who had increasingly turned to Mannish dialects of Sindarin, they favored the Adûnaic tongue.
  
  The Elves and Men of that country alike were puzzled to learn the nature of our errand, for the Men of the country of Umbar were by all accounts unfriendly to High Elves, and indeed also to those Men who regarded themselves as friends of the Eldar. In that there was little they could tell us that we had not already understood to be sooth, ere the missive from the King of Umbar reached the hand of Gil-Galad.
  
  They did, however, provide us a more immediate perspective on a matter the rumour of which had troubled us in Lindon. The kings of Umbar were gaining a reputation for ruthlessness and aggression in their dealings with neighbors. The present King was allegedly haughty and wont to threaten war over small disputes and to take offense at any attitude short of submission. A number of kingdoms and tribes had been conquered. Some concern existed indeed that the Kings of Umbar might eventually seek to extend their growing hegemony northward over the shorelands of Belfalas and perhaps beyond, though as yet no such move had been made overtly.
  
  Those Men in Middle-Earth who revered the Valar viewed Umbar with understandable unease. Some among them, including the lord of Men in that country, suspected that this embassy might indeed be a preliminary to such designs, a move by Umbar to gauge and if possible neutralize any hypothetical ability or inclination on Lindon’s part to defend this country from Umbar’s domination. He feared our pledge not to interfere in any such designs might be persuaded or purchased.
  
  While the countries of the South had been quarrelsome and contentious since far back in the Elder Days, the present King of Umbar seemed both loftily ambitious and, by reputation, virtually invincible. His armies seemed to exhibit a prowess and an ability to inspire terror all out of proportion to their apparent size and strength. This King seemed uncannily able to control great forces of mercenaries, and auxilaries conscripted from vassals and conquered kingdoms, far more effectively than was considered realistic by the principles of the sciences of strategy. Moreover he apparently did not scruple to wield that power either to cow neighbors into submission to vassalage, or to conquer them on the most grim of terms.
  
  I promised to do what lay within my means and the rede of Gil-Galad my liege to prevent, or at least warn them of, impending aggression from the South if such was contemplated. It would seem that, even as in later days, rumours of Umbar cast a shadow of trepidation far away upon the northern strands of Belfalas, but in that time it was a situation strange and novel.
  
  Taking our leave at last, we crossed the Bay, seeking the high cliffs of the cape of Umbar  well-known to mariners, that marked the narrow inlet by which the haven bearing that name could be discovered. Now we encountered many ships upon the sea, primarily Númenórean carracks and dromonds, but also vessels of strange design from nations of Men far to the South and East on shores known to us only by vaguest rumour. Already by this time it was plain that the Haven of Umbar had become a busy port of Númenór in Middle-Earth and a great conduit for riches, though we had yet to catch sight of the haven itself.
  
  To port we eventually passed a headland, then soon another to starboard. The colossi and the great beacons they bore , noted landmarks of the straits of Umbar in later days even as their ruins upon the headlands are now at the end of the Third Age, had not yet, as of this time of which I write, been erected. Small redoubts and towers could be seen upon the slopes within the outer harbor entrance, and occasionally the flashing of heliographs could be discerned. As we passed, huge trumps greeted us, the peculiar forlorn quality of their voices enhanced by the distance and echoing cliffs. No vessel, it was clear, could approach the Haven of Umbar from the Sea unlooked-for.
  
  At length we spied a double-banked galley coming swiftly west from the haven, approaching our vessel in the enclosed outer bay. Its dark blood-red mainsail bore a device consisting of two crowns, one golden and the other scarlet, before a black disk. The banners with their arms signifying vassalage to Númenór seemed subtly superfluous. Drawing nigh, its commander hailed us in the name of the Port Captain and of the Kings of Umbar. Informed of our coming, they were charged to conduct us to the haven. The decks were enclosed and the oarsmen were hidden, but occasional muffled whip-cracks and shouts came to our ears, informing us that this galley, at least, was propelled by thralls and not sailors or hired free rowers. Declining the commander’s offer of a tow, our sailors deftly followed the galley under sail, as a mulberry leaf lightly nudged by a breeze might follow a great dark log in a lake.
  
  Before us the celebrated natural harbor ‘made without hands’ of the Haven of Umbar appeared . The outer harbor is an enclosed bay of no mean size. Its far side to the east of southeast, where the inner haven and port lay, seemed tiny and distant against the hills rising behind it, but the waters before the farther shore bristled with a very forest of masts and spars and seemed choked with hulls great and small. Over it all flew seabirds of every species and description in a seething mass that seemed a billowing storm-cloud, screeching and squawking rather than thundering. The galley led us to the outliers of the anchorage where a smaller boat bearing the Port Captain himself met us at the channel leading to the wharves.
  
  As we approached the inner haven, we noted that a considerable seaport town had greatly outgrown the old walls of the rather modest fortification and city of Men that had perhaps existed here since the Elder Days. An ancient citadel upon the lower slopes of the sugarloaf hill  looking down over the haven was clearly in this day the fortress and residence of the kings. We saw also great cleared spaces in which many men toiled, and huge derricks and wains aiding the movement of great stones and quantities of earth, in various locations around the city and upon the slopes. Some such clearings and earthworks were nigh as extensive as a quarter of the living town.
  
  At the royal dock, closest to the city’s water street and the places of commerce, our sailors utilized the light and fickle harbor breeze only, to the amazement of the outland sailors and longshoremen, to bring us alongside the water stair provided for boats and tenders. Once Glorfindel and I had disembarked with the gifts for the King and our small baggage, our crew, disdaining still either rope or oar, sought our assigned slip nearby. An honor guard and a herald of the court of the Kings of Umbar, all wearing the livery of the two crowns and black disk upon red with superimposed badges of Númenór, waited at the water stair to escort us to the citadel.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > February 10th, 2008, 11:06 AM

  Leaving the royal wharf, we stepped onto the broad avenue that communicated between the wharves and the citadel. Its center, demarked with a double colonnade newly constructed, was apparently reserved for officials and servants of the Kings. We were conducted by our escort along this royal lane, while the common traffic seethed on either side.
  
  This great avenue was also one of the market streets of the city. Here were Men of every nation and people of whom we had knowledge, and many others utterly strange to us, with diverse physical appearances and customs of dress and personal adornment. Motley market stalls lined the street to either side, staffed and patronized by an equally eclectic assortment of Men. Númenóreans clad in stylish tunics and cymars of the fashion current in Númenór were scattered among hordes in beast-fells, feathers, and body paint. Pedestrians and riders intent on their destinations, beasts of burden, and conveyances, passed among the patrons and the proprietors of booths and stalls crammed with goods of every sort imaginable, but none encroached upon the reserved lane in the center.
  
  Bravely colored textiles and burnished metals gleamed in the brilliant sun. Clamour, vendors' shouts, the clangor of instruments sounded to draw attention, argument and rancor, cries of pain, and even music and song filled the ears. The atmosphere was saturated with scents of fires and cooking, of aromatic liquors, pungent spices, exotic incenses, and heady perfumes, and of many substances far less pleasant but nigh inevitable in such a large city of Men. Frequently we would spy parties of thralls removing malodorous offal from the streets and carting it away.
  
  Not infrequently we saw gangs of Dwarves engaging in acrimonious commerce as was their wont. The Dwarves, collectively representing all seven of their nations, were present in considerable numbers as both proprietors and patrons of the city market. At one point we observed a party of dark-skinned Elves of a tribe unknown to us, almost certainly an avarin people of the far South. They did not deign even to meet our eyes. Once we even saw a great Orc stalking the avenue in painted leather and dark iron gear, cloaked and hooded against this brilliant scourging southern Sun, engaging in business and leisure with all the rest. If he would find cause to venture forth in daylight, how many more might roam the avenues and alleys by night?
  
  We noted also with more concern that here and there certain Men dressed in dark hooded robes paced alone murmuring or marched in cliques reciting words in harsh tongues. Some cowled cenobites grasped curious charms of disturbing shape, and displayed cryptic glyphs upon banners and scrolls. Many of the languages in which they chanted were obscure if not unknown to us, but we knew all too well at least one tongue that repeatedly assaulted our ears. Its detestable syllables filled Glorfindel and myself with apprehension and foreboding. Openly upon the streets of Umbar Port in bright daylight, certain cultists were suffered to pronounce incantations in Sauron's Black Speech, but the patrols and the market patrons paid them little heed.
  
  Though we had yet to meet the King himself, his strong hand was already apparent in this town that surely would instantly dissolve into chaos otherwise. Men-at-arms bearing the black-disk token patrolled the streets in disciplined squads, watching everything and frequently stopping and questioning the passersby and booth proprietors. It seemed that anyone seeking to dwell or do business in Umbar Port was required to obtain (and to pay for) the favor of the kings through their designated magistrates, who would signify such favor with tokens and documents virtually all were required to maintain upon their persons, on pain of severe punishment. (We, as ambassadors, naturally were exempt.) This favor, however, was dispensed relatively liberally, so calculated as to maximize the prosperity of the city (and the revenues of the local Crown) while excluding malefactors, beggars, and mountebanks to the extent that was practical. The streets teemed with those granted the privilege of occupying them, if not constrained as thralls to do so. The Orc we had observed was present, it would seem, with the explicit permission of the King.
  
  This was the city of Umbar, colony and vassal of Númenór, in the dawn of its greatness and already the veritable hub of the world of Men in Middle-Earth in a manner even Armenelos the Golden or its port of Rómenna could never become. Hither all roads on land and sea intersected, here a great river of worldly wealth flowed seemingly of its own accord from all lands while many thousands sought to dwell here merely to dip for themselves a portion as it surged heedlessly past. Over this place of murmuring riot and ceaseless flux presided the enigmatic Kings of Umbar, vassals of the High King, one of whom has made overtures to Gil-Galad of Lindon to request this embassy.
  
  Here, it seemed, a veritable pageant of all the peoples of Men of Middle-Earth displayed itself in the day and (as I was to learn) through the night under lamps and lurid torches as well, in all their finery and material culture from the sublime to the gaudy and the primitive. This unsleeping city was become a permanent trade-fair that never folded its pavilions. Here before our eyes the world of Men came together in a very gyre of humanity; to buy, and to sell; to conspire, and to quarrel; to wax affluent, and to wane to penury; to exhibit, and to behold; to dominate, and to grovel; to be intoxicated, and to be roused shamefully; to fornicate, and to regret; to exult in triumphant pride, and to cringe in humiliation; to slay, and to die.
  
  In spite of the brilliant daylight and the ceaseless din and motion, Glorfindel and I nonetheless could discern, like a disturbing sound faint and distant at the edge of hearing, or like an elusive scent of hidden rot, a sourceless pervasive tinge of disquiet and unease common to all persons of every class, race, and nation we observed here. Indeed it seemed as though even the prosperous ones who made merry did so with a certain frantic desperation to escape the tenuous but ubiquitous pall of fear.
  
  [continues...]

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > February 14th, 2008, 01:56 AM

  I like the idea of "gangs of Dwarves". But is there any reason to suppose that any of the Dwarven families went so far south as Umbar?
  
  Why would Elrond and Glorfindel have rode to the coast at Lindon and then sailed down the coast to Umbar? The first part they would have done at the bidding of Gil-galad (which begs the question). But why the second leg? Why send Elves to sound out trouble in a city that is of the making and habitation of Men? Perhaps I am anticipating the story too muchl

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > February 14th, 2008, 01:16 PM

  Mordomin Wrote:I like the idea of "gangs of Dwarves". But is there any reason to suppose that any of the Dwarven families went so far south as Umbar?

  
  Why not? Is there something about the south that would be inherently repulsive to Dwarves? Seems to me they'd be all for pickup trucks w/ gun racks, ice tea, & cheap beer!
  
  Dwarfdom, in the section of Middle-Earth in which the canonical stories were set, was divided pretty much among at most three Dwarven Houses: Durin's Longbeards & whichever nations Nogrod & Belegost claimed, most of whom were either assimilated into Khazad-Dum or migrated elsewhere before the War of Wrath. The other four to six Houses surely had to be altogether somewhere else in Middle-Earth.
  
  In any event, it would seem Dwarves may be expected to travel wherever there was trade in weapons, excavating & civil engineering services, products of craft & mineral-derived wealth generally, and even mercenary services, all of which appear to apply to Umbar. Apparently, Dwarves from mansions all over the world had business in Umbar during its prosperous periods.
  
  

  Mordy Wrote:Why would Elrond and Glorfindel have rode to the coast at Lindon and then sailed down the coast to Umbar? The first part they would have done at the bidding of Gil-galad (which begs the question). But why the second leg? Why send Elves to sound out trouble in a city that is of the making and habitation of Men? Perhaps I am anticipating the story too muchl

  
  I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand. If you are questioning the purposes of Elrond's journey, I thought the second to last paragraph in the post of Jan 9th explained it adequately.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > February 15th, 2008, 08:41 PM

  You are right, you did explain the trip to Umbar in your story. My bad. Or my "good" actually, since I had to re-read your story from the beginning to find the place where you explained this. Your description of Umbar is fascinating.
  
  I call your story "A Fateful Embassy" in my notes. I do not mean to contradict you, it is just how I am keeping track (to the extent that I am keeping track).

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > February 17th, 2008, 01:56 PM

  It quickly became apparent that the thrall-rowed galley that had greeted and escorted us was by no means exceptional. While the keeping of thralls was by now not unknown in Númenór and the Númenórean colonies even of the Elf-friends, it was still uncommon. Prisoners of war also were made thralls by the Númenóreans, but as of that time of which I now write, these were seldom brought to Númenór.
  
  In Umbar Port, we could see that thralldom was a quite common circumstance, and was indeed considered integral to the civic order of this place. The thralls of Umbar were to be seen everywhere, marching in coffles, performing heavy or menial labor, being purchased or sold in markets dedicated for that purpose, and occasionally squatting in shade drinking water and taking such brief leisure and refreshment permitted them. Above all, we observed gangs of thralls moving heavy stones and timbers through the streets toward the construction sites, and being chastised harshly by their overseers or masters. There was a need for much coerced labor in the tremendous building projects we observed, and the city archons were clearly motivated to augment that supply from those who were brought before them to answer for misdeeds.
  
  Those not specially privileged were only permitted to cross the reserved royal lane where other streets intersected our avenue, and then only after stopping and respectfully allowing any authorized traffic such as ourselves to pass before proceeding. We did at one point observe a young man dash across the lane some distance ahead of us. A patrol seized the hapless one almost the instant he emerged on the other side and bore him away.
  
  However, one sort of cross traffic, we noted, yielded to none other however exalted. At least one great boulevard utilized for the movement of building materials and excavated earth intersected our avenue. While we were yet perhaps threescore rangar away, a vast stone, large enough to comprise entire houses in Harlond, moved ponderously across our lane, drawn by thralls and beasts pulling rope harnesses, that had already crossed and gone ahead. It loomed aloof and gleaming black in the sunlight like one of the fabulous brutes said to have inhabited this world in the Spring of Arda, never seen alive by any Elf but whose titanic bones are sometimes discovered in quarries and ravines. At its base, thralls scurried frantically to retrieve hardwood posts used as rollers from its rear and carry them to a point well before it as it moved. The stone’s slow forward motion, under the influence of its vast inertia, seemed serenely unconnected to the insect-like busy activity of the thralls whose precisely choreographed quadrille seemed almost a kind of frenetic heathen worship ritual in honor of the unconcerned stone-idol rather than the means to facilitate its movement.
  
  The stone crossed the lane and cleared our path well before we at our unhurried pace reached that intersection. All other traffic stopped and awaited us at the command of the royal pursuivants of our escort until we had crossed the boulevard, the stone having already moved some distance away. Glorfindel and I had walked several paces up the center lane where it continued across the boulevard, when an agonized shriek from the direction of the moving stone ripped through the general hubbub. Without considering the matter intellectually, I turned, and ascertained the direction from which the scream had originated. I then dashed from the party out of the reserved lane onto the street with Glorfindel following at my left elbow.
  
  We quickly encountered such a milling knot of traffic between us and the sufferer that I was obliged to spring up and sprint across the backs of the pack-beasts and cart loads and the shoulders of large Men, with Glorfindel following close behind, in order that we might reach the victim before he died of blood loss or other complications. We dropped again to the ground before the victim and the astonished onlookers. The victim was of course one of the thralls who had been retrieving and replacing roller-posts for the movement of the great stone. He had at some point misstepped and now lay writhing on the ground with his leg and foot crushed to a pulp beyond any hope of restoration. The stone for which he sacrificed himself had already moved a dozen or more rangar ahead and continued gliding onward insensibly.
  
  For the space of a heartbeat I wondered: was this man a prisoner of war? Had he committed some offense against the King, and his sentence of thralldom for a period was now magnified by mishap into lifelong maiming? Did he have a wife and children reduced now to paupery who had awaited his release hoping he could resume being a husband and father? Did his parents live knowing shame for him, and hope that he might after release resume his place and former vocation as a free man?
  
  I could see nothing would serve in this case but to swiftly complete the amputation so that he might heal and perhaps henceforth serve his masters in some useful pursuit not requiring two strong legs, such as the weaving of baskets or rope, or picking oakum for the shipyards. From my wallet I retrieved my scalpel and my small supply of dressings, but in this emergency I lacked a proper bone-saw. Glorfindel was no healer but at my direction he could use his sharp clean sword to good effect in these situations. The thrall’s arteries had fortunately been nearly sealed in the injury, minimizing the bleeding and giving us more time to work. Meanwhile, however, both our escort from the direction whence we came, and overseers from the stone-moving gang in the other direction, converged upon us.
  
  The herald began to remonstrate incredulously with us, quite opaque to the need for more dressings and medications I attempted to request. “Ambassador, this is unseemly! You need not concern yourself about a thrall. My lord king has assigned me responsibility for your safety and comfort.”
  
  I fear I was for a moment bemused by his words and evident unconcern for the broken man at our feet. Glorfindel’s attention was drawn also to the herald. While I hesitated, a silent overseer of thralls, who had waited patiently and diffidently for us to clear his field of action, proceeded with alacrity to the victim and knelt over him. With a razorlike, probably Dwarfwrought, dirk, and a swift sure dexterity that would have done credit to myself, he slit the arteries in the injured thrall’s neck so that the unfortunate man was sent forth, within the space of a labored breath, beyond all suffering in this world. This was perhaps the most merciful act I was to witness in that time in Umbar.
  
  There was naught else for us to do but to allow the escort to lead us back to the reserved lane in the avenue, that we might proceed onward to our reception by the King. Other thralls quickly stepped forward, silently gathered up the corpse, and cleaned the pool of gore from the street. In mere moments the site of the unfortunate thrall’s passing was lost and obscured, filled again with busy impatient traffic.
  [continues...]

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > February 23rd, 2008, 09:59 AM

  By the time of Ar-Pharazon, the Numenoreans are noted for their cruelty. No wonder that Elrond and Glorfindel are appalled.
  
  Do I anticipate that they assist the escape of the Lords of Andunie?

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > April 12th, 2008, 04:07 AM

  One hopes that your pause in posting story-segments does not denote an abandonment of the tale.
  
  In light of recent discussion on "Tolkien and the Inklings" re. the awareness of the Numenorians to the existence of Rings of Power, your story has even greater interest.

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Alvin Eriol > April 20th, 2008, 08:54 AM

  The avenue crossed one more street before plunging into a lush copse on a plot of land before the gates of the citadel. Here could be seen the promiscuous riot of flora and fauna characteristic of well-watered southern lands. Great oaks of a breed not found in our north put forth massive crooked grey limbs like the arms of huge benign krakens, supporting a canopy of green leaves that filtered the brilliant sunlight like the tinted glass panes of a ceremonial hall. Flowers shaped like rich purple bunches of grapes implied the richness of wine; others, shaped like strident trumpets in orange and gold, silently summoned huge black and yellow bees to feast and gather of their bounty. Only the pavement upon which we walked interrupted this parkland, dedicated by some obscure ruler of the Dark Years, possibly the forgotten founder of this haven-city.
  
  The herald of Umbar remarked to me “Soon, in the rebuilding of the city that already proceeds anon, this waste ground will cleared and made useful.”
  
  We were admitted to the gate in a beetling barbican that thrust from the face of the ancient citadel.  That fortress appeared to have been built in the very morning of the Second Age, centuries ere the great voyage of Vëantur. It was very likely one of the many works inspired by those Edain who fled Beleriand and returned to these countries by the end of the Elder Days. They brought their memories of the Elf-kingdoms, and such lore and tales as they had acquired, to lands and peoples that had not known the Eldar since the conclusion of the Great Journey.
  
  From the corridor we emerged into a great audience chamber hung with huge heavy tapestries. These were apparently intended to absorb echoes from the hard stone walls, as well as to display the heraldry of the kingdom of Umbar as credentials of the Kings who ruled from the hall below them. The present King, we could see, was now holding court before a crowd of courtiers and supplicants. The chief herald strode up the center aisle and waited for the enthroned figure to pause in admonishing some petitioner before the dais.
  
  I noted that this King sat one of two thrones upon the dais; he occupied one shaped with symbols of trade and prosperity, covered in lush upholstery and gold leaf. While the traditions of many kingdoms provide a second throne for the spouse of the monarch, they seldom are nearly so large and imposing. In this case, however, a high throne, devoid of upholstery, carven of black wood with arms and martial symbols and snarling beasts, stood empty to the right as I viewed it.
  
  The herald presented us then to Bârkadar Gimilpâr, King of Umbar, vassal of Númenór. The King announced that consideration of the petitioner’s issue would resume on the morrow. Turning his attention to Glorfindel and myself, he clapped for servants to bring wine and refreshments.
  
  This King was obviously of mixed blood; he had a Númenórean nose, chin, and brows that claimed him as a member, many times removed, of my brother’s house, but the dark eyes, swarthiness, rounded features, and curled glossy hair and beard of a Southron. His robes were of linen and silk brightly dyed in purple, emerald green, and goldenrod. He was a physically imposing man, large and somewhat corpulent. His eyes were like coins, bright but hard.
  
  Nonetheless, I could scarcely imagine a personage less apt to the ominous reputation he enjoyed abroad. He, like his herald and officers with whom I had spoken, used the Adûnaic tongue with a slightly drawling enunciation and a rather florid pseudoarchaic idiom. These people considered their dialect of Adûnaic an integral part of their emerging national identity, and spoke it proudly.
  
  “An embassy from the King of the High Elves!” he exclaimed in a hearty baritone voice that made the hall echo in spite of the heavy draperies, “Such a thing has not occurred in all the history of Umbar! You are well come, I assure you. The quality and beauty of your goods make them desired throughout this world. Long had I dreamed we might overcome the animosity and doubt which history has interposed between us, and engage in mutually beneficial trade. That was, I trust, your purpose as well?”
  
  Of course my intentions were in truth to overcome, if we could, distrust between ourselves, and all those peoples who were not given entirely over to the Shadow. We wished indeed also to establish regular commerce, toward that objective of friendship and trust, and also in order that the tidings we craved ever in those times might come to us by road and by ship amongst the trade-goods.
  
  I presented him one of the gifts I bore: a Fëanorean lamp, never common in Middle-Earth and by that day already a quite rare and prized object. It had been set by a Mírdain craftmaster into an ornate mithril mounting that served as a reflector, stand, and handle for carrying. He examined it with enthusiastic interest, as I sought to explain myself. “We came, O King, at your invitation that we received at the court of Gil-Galad. You requested me, Elrond son of Eärendil, herald of Gil-Galad, specifically and by name, and therefore I have come.”
  
  The King’s eyebrows raised as my words evidently invoked a memory that resolved the puzzle. He replied, “Ah, now I recall. Forgive me, it was my brother who issued the invitation, and he did indeed mention the matter to me ere he went afield. He is presently encamped without the city, and will make a triumphal entrance this dusk. At that time, perhaps, he will receive you appropriately.”
  
  No immediate opportunity for clarifying his remark offered itself, as we began discussing trade, and the commodities that might be traded and the terms upon which such trade might occur. This King became more visibly relaxed and even somewhat expansive as our conversation lingered on his home ground where he regarded himself as master. He perceived himself as a very astute and pragmatic custodian of the city’s order and prosperity, and as such approached his duties with utmost seriousness. Our conversations were readily interrupted by pauses on his part as he recalled obscure tariff details or performed calculations of tolls and transport costs mentally. He expressed some regret upon learning that there was no source or supply of Fëanorean lamps as trade goods.
  
  I thought that turn of discussion an opportunity to broach the subject of Rings. “Tell me, my lord King, it is said that rings possessing singular powers once were extant in Middle-Earth. Do you have any knowledge of such objects being offered or solicited?”
  
  He stiffened for an instant as if stung. His countenance momentarily closed like a tortoise withdrawing into its protective armor, then carefully assumed an aspect of bored disdain. “We deal in practicalities here, in Umbar, not in superstitions. If someone were to offer such trinkets as you describe, claiming they possessed uncanny powers, they would be confiscated, and the mountebank would be flogged for fraud. The gold would have value in its measure; the tale that the ring has strange powers is worthless and dangerous. The Insubstantial is in my view exactly that, and less. That which dwells in men’s minds but cannot be seen, touched, weighed, or measured, does not exist and needn’t concern us insomuch as it does not inspire disorder through fancies.”
  
  His manner was that of a man who had long ago trained himself to reflexively avert his eyes from shadows, such that never seeing them he had come to believe they, and that which may lurk therein, did not exist.
  
  I then replied that dark cultists seem tolerated and well come in the city. He replied, “Oh, yes, them. I do not share their beliefs, but they are harmless to the City and are a preferable substitute, in my view, for the idleness and mischief into which these Men otherwise might fall. As a practical and pragmatic ruler I have no use for supernaturalism, but I recognize such beliefs might occupy their minds with some worthy object and even turn them to usefulness. Often among common Men religion, almost any religion, appears to do so. In any event my brother is the patron of certain of these cults and believes them worthy of toleration.”
  
  I remarked that I was hard-pressed to imagine how the cowled chanting cenobites might be considered useful and desirable inhabitants. To that he replied, “Yes, the Order of the Servants of the Dark superficially seem rather alarming, but they do no harm aside from occasionally blocking streets briefly with their processions. Would you believe, that cult has actually built and maintained orphan asylums on its own initiative and at its own expense? Not very long ago, the streets and alleys of Umbar Town teemed with fatherless urchins! They were continually hungry and thieving, like the feral monkeys in some cities of Far Harad. Now there are nigh none to be seen! Would that all odd cults and faiths express their creeds in terms of such useful civic service!”
  
  I realized that we had noted few children indeed thus far. I was not reassured. “You have mentioned, O King, your brother, and indicated that he makes certain policies independently of yourself. I would know more of that matter.”
  
  The King hesitated, as though he did not care to discuss this personage in any detail in his absence. “Ah, forgive me. I had forgotten that externs might be unaware of the peculiar governance of Umbar from times of old. In lieu of one monarch, you see, the government is divided among two lords between themselves. Perhaps in ancient days the two Kings were necessarily brothers by blood indeed, but it is simply now a custom of speech that we refer to one another as ‘brother.’ I hold sway in matters of peace, prosperity, and the civic order, day by day, and thus I am styled Bârkadar, the city lord. My ‘brother,’ being of high Númenórean blood, is the elder of us by many years; he reigned through all the days of my predecessor. He commands our navy and our hosts, and defends Umbar’s interests by war and threat of war as necessary, and so is styled Bârazgar, the War Lord of Umbar.”
  
  I glanced at the empty black throne. It was indeed noted, in the obscure lore collected in Lindon, that in ancient times Umbar was governed by pairs of co-rulers, but we had not been aware that this custom persisted with the coming of the Númenóreans, as indeed it has continued through the times of the Corsairs in the Third Age. References to a co-King as ‘brother’ naturally put me in mind of Elros long lost to me now. I replied that I anticipated meeting this Bârazgar anon.
  
  After a slight frowning hesitation, King Gimilpâr replied, “As I said, he will enter the City this eve. I cannot say, however, how soon afterwards he will receive and confer with you. That is his place to decide, not mine. It has ever been the custom of my ‘brother’ that he is seen when he wishes to be seen.”
  
  [continues...]

• MD&MFV: An Embassy to 'Fate'

  Mordomin > May 3rd, 2008, 06:35 AM

  I like how Elrond casually tricked the King into admitting that he had seen Rings before (even as he attempted to deny it) by getting him to talk about their being made of gold, when Elrond had not described them as such.
  
  The dual thrones in Umbar is not something that I had noticed in Tolkien's writings, my knowledge of which I freely admit is haphazard.
  
  It smacks of Egyptian or perhaps Persian influence.
  
  I really like the suggestive imagery of the "Third Throne". And that Elrond is confused both by the duality of Kingship in Umbar, but also by this third chair.
  
  I also like that Elrond is surprised by the things that he encounters on his journey. There is a tendency to think of Master Elrond as infallible. And perhaps by the time of the War of the Ring, he deserves that level of respect. But you are telling us how he earned his knowledge.
• Next Oldest Next Newest