Long Lost Leaves - Part III

[Midge]

"I would use my bow, certainly. I can use it mounted or walking, so whatever method you find favorable is what we can use. I have not been in these woods before, but considering it is autumn, I would guess that deer would be easy to find in a forest like this. What would you prefer, Redplate, friend?" Magor took hold of his bow after finishing Shot's brushdown.

[Amael]

It had been what A'mael imagined was 5 months since she first felt that she was carrying. And it had been just less than a month since Ingwionis and her had left the group on the wings that brought them back home, with nothing to really show for it. It's not how she would have had it, yet there was no other choice. And she accepted that ... for the most part.

Her husband had been tending to political issues within the city. This included the occasional breakup of a bar fight, or the continued harassment the 'leading family' were getting from some of the dissidents. Most of the in-fighting had been caused by purist Elves who did not like the fact that so many easterling families had been welcome with open-arms, although very few of them had shown little threatening behavior in the slightest.

It was night, near mid-summer's eve. It definitely hadn't been as cold as it usually was, even for summer in this far northern sub-desert. A small mountain range stopped the warm air from reaching the village most of the time, but in recent decades the mountain had eroded for some odd reason, and the weather had become warmer over the years.

A'mael talked with her husband once again, as she often did. He was her only shoulder to lean on in a world that was still mostly-violent and not trusting. Her step-daughter was now in Minas Tirith: something having to do with political matters there. She had been often in between Lothlorien, Rivendell, Minas Tirith, and Anfalas for whatever reason. She would be not be returning for a few months, or more. So in this town where she only saw eye-to-eye with a few of the Elves and none of the Easterlings (with her husband being a stark contrast to this), Ingwionis was her only true friend amongst the sea of strangers that popped in and out of the growing city.

She spoke with her husband about the gulf that had formed between them: that she supported the Elves and Ingwionis supported the Easterlings. They hadn't had troubles with this matter until now. "My husband, I do not deny that these folk are peaceful ... for the most part, but why deny the Elves here of the same type of guest treatment?"

Ingwionis raised an eyebrow. "Is this what you believe I think, A'mael? I just simply believe that this will always be the lands of the Easterlings. I was here, along with you, as a diplomat to ease matters between our peoples. And these Elves who call themselves 'purists' are soon to ruin this alliance."

A'mael, caring as she was, offered her opinion towards her husband. "No, it is because among the staff and law of our city, the Elves hold 9 seats. The Easterlings hold 21. The council of 30 is collapsing under misrepresentation. And this is what I think would have our kin so riled up."

Ingwionis hissed, as he often did when he disagreed with something. "A'mael, you know as well as me that it takes 3 to 5 men to do what the Elves can do, and yet these Elves, our own direct allies, would have us fight amongst each other just to get a few more seats. These Easterlings, in their peace with us, have shown us that they can be reasonable, and not wanting of power so much as even our own kin!!"

A'mael hissed back, to satire her husband. "So they want not power, yet they have 21 seats. That is ... counter-intuitive! We must be careful, Ingwionis. We must. I know you are much older and in some ways wiser than me, but even you have shown your weakness. Remember Dol Guldur? The visions? Us Elves are as susceptible to certain 'illnesses' as the men are. Something has clearly dampened your mind ... " A'mael realized she may have offended Ingwionis, but she had no choice but to let him see the light.

Ingwionis simply bowed his head, facing the ground. A'mael thought to herself, "perhaps I have struck a nerve here!" Instead of striking a nerve with her husband, she had simply saddened him. She already knew why: the issue with Ingwionis' father, and the mission that both he and A'mael had failed. And she felt this immediately in Ingwionis. "My husband ... mind your feelings. I did not aim to offend. You know that I know what you do. You have the gift and ability of communication with your father, and I have the ability to feel exactly what you feel. And so you feel that it is ... time."

Ingwionis raised his head, facing A'mael. He said with gloom in his eyes, "perhaps it is time we left for Valinor." She did not expect Ingwionis to say this, so she obviously misread him. "We fought against Sauron, helped the men, and helped to defeat evil so that this world would belong to men. Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel ... all that remained of the leadership of the White Council ... all agreed that this world must belong to them now. These Easterlings are no exception, and so this is their land. Not our's, not the Elves, nor wizards. Not even Ents!!"

"What are you saying", in surprise A'mael asked her husband. "The Ents are those which we are tasked to look for, to reunite."

"A'mael", Ingwionis was about to give some hard news as he usually did. "You are young but wise beyond your years, but even you will fade in these lands. We all will. We must go to Valinor, and I must face up to my father. The mission of the Entwives will likely be left up to the race of men ... as all things will. We all have a set time. And these humans have their lives to live now, aside from us."

"And of the Ents?", A'mael asked. "Do they fade as well?"

Ingwionis hesittated. " ...... I am ... afraid that they will ... " A'mael looked at her husband, shocked at what he was saying. Ingwionis continued. "Before you get your suspicions about me, I mean no harm to them, nor to anyone. But it is a possibility we must face. If the Ents are to survive, it won't likely be by our hands, or the hands of wizards or Elves. It will either be the Ents who decide their own fate, or it will be the race of men who decide everything. This is ... not our world any longer."

A'mael's eyes were open wide, still in shock of what she heard her husband utter. But she did agree to an extent. "Ingwionis, is it that cut and dry? We all have to leave? What is your reasoning for this? I know we have more time here. It isn't so urgent is it?"

Ingwionis closed his eyes, deep in thought. "A'mael ... even you must come with me. As a maiden of Galadriel's fading trees, the world has even left you behind. It's left us all behind. We may live in happiness, but not here."

"The question", A'mael demanded Ingwionis. "Answer the question. How long?"

With a couple of tears coming from his eyes, Ingwionis said, "a matter of a few years, I think."

A'mael sighed, in relief. "Then that is a few years we have to do what we need to do here. At least it isn't a day, or a week."

A'mael and Ingwionis held each others' hands across the table where they were sitting. It came to A'mael's mind, as it always did, that her mother was now in Valinor as well. She had left 5 years ago, before the final wars began. She also had a brother in Valinor. And she felt finally that it would not be so unagreeable to see them again.

A'mael had made her decision. "Then we will give this town to the Easterlings, after the baby arrives and we are safe to continue our task to its completion. The Elves will be welcome to join us, though. But, Ingwionis ... you must talk to them, and reason with them. The situation could get ugly ... "

[Midge]

When Redplate jumped onto his horse, Magor did the same. It had been a very long time since he'd been on a hunt. At least since before he joined this group, certainly. Fortunately, Shot had not forgotten all her training on silence over almost any terrain; this was crucial on the plains of Rohan, with nary a tree to hide behind in the case of surprising an enemy.

They set off, step by quiet step, into the woods outside the camp. They had been searching for nearly twenty minutes when a thought occurred to Magor. After double checking to make sure he wasn't spooking any wildlife that was potential dinner, he quietly asked Redplate, "Should we have told someone we were going hunting?"

[Midge]

When Redplate shook his head, Magor resumed his quiet scanning of the forest. After another half-hour or so, he noticed a movement out of the corner of his left eye - it was remarkably close to them. Instead of risking scaring the animal by alerting Redplate to its existence, Magor instead slowly raised his bow while nocking an arrow. As he did so, he also turned his head so that he could see the animal more clearly. It was a large stag, and when Magor saw this, he wanted to bring it back more than ever. He took aim, sure that by now Redplate knew what he was doing. After a deep breath in and out to steady his aim, he let fly with the arrow.

[Midge]

Magor and Redplate plodded into camp astride their horses. After the long hunt, all four of them were tired. The two men put their horses away and Redplate headed off to his tent, where Magor assumed he just fell onto his bed into an immediate sleep, the way a real man would. Magor, on the other hand, made his way over to Haldis's tent where she still had a light on. Of course she's still up, Magor thought. After making sure she didn't mind him coming in, he hoisted the huge cut of meat he'd just killed and dressed higher and asked, "So... does this mean I can have some more pickles?"

[Earniel]

With their fresh meat-supply replenished, and their pickle-supply surprisingly diminished, the adventurers had a decent night sleep. The weather that had been pleasant all night, slowly changed during the morning. The sky remained cloudless and sunny. But a fickle wind was picking up, with moments of calm followed by sudden gusts that ruffled hair and reached with cool fingers under warm blankets that weren't tugged in well enough.

The shifting wind unsettled the horses and sabotaged any attempt to have a warm breakfast as making a fire in this gusty weather was dangerous.

The adventurers were trying to break up camp as well as they could when a deep boom rolled over the hills, like thunder, even though the sky above remained clear. Another boom followed a minute later.

"This is no ordinary weather!" Radagast yelled over the wind.

In the rosy morning sky, the adventurers could see the twisting winds rising up from the Hills in the north to form a whirlwind. It rose high. Several more booms followed, as if somewhere in the Hills a siege engine was battering down the gate of a fortress.

At the camp, the gusts of wind intensified as the whirlwind grew. Some people tried to calm the skittish horses while others moved for cover. Then accompanied by the last loud thud, the wind carried a multi-voiced shriek, filled with frustration and anger. When the shriek died away, the whirlwind in the sky collapsed on itself immediately. The gusts of wind were gone so suddenly, that many of the adventurers who had been fighting the wind to stay upright just a moment before, now toppled over as they all of a sudden met no more resistance.

Radagast and his companions suddenly found themselves on the ground of their overturned camp where the wind had tossed themselves and their belongings around. The sky above showed not a trace of the windy weather they had experienced just earlier, in fact it had all the hallmarks of becoming a pleasant and sunny day.

[Midge]

Aerin held out her hand to steady Magor as he got up.

"What was that?" they both asked at the same time.

[Acalewia]

"What in Middle Earth?" Aelfwine said as she picked herself up. She looked around as the others began to pick themselves up. "What was that?"

[Earniel]

"Well, that was unexpected," Radagast said as soon as he had finished picking himself off the ground. He brushed dirt from the rim of his hat.

"I daresay those were our shadowy marten-friends, if that scream was anything to go by. We do seem to run into them everywhere we go. They can't be more than a day's distance away."

He looked around. Small and light items had been picked up by the wind and strewn around. Tents had been blown over. The horses stood close together with Haldis' pack-donkeys. All of them were obviously still nervous, but none of them had fled.

"My," Radagast said as he surveyed the messy camp with surprise. "Such power! I never expected them to be able to do all this."

[Acalewia]

"I don't think there is much we can expect, save for more trouble," Aelfwine said as she began to help with the clean up of the camp.

[Midge]

"Are we expecting that power to be for us, or working against us? Knowing that will make one of two very different outcomes to this journey," Magor muttered to himself. Aerin shook her head, thinking the exact same thing as they gathered various articles of clothing, knick-knacks, and other items blown out of their rightful places.

[The last sane person]

Fighting his way out from under the wreckage of his collapsed tent, Redplate finally emerged into the daylight with a curse as he surveyed the windswept mess that was camp.

"By Manwe's BREATH! What was that?!" he grumped as he set about picking up and attempting to untangle his tent and personal goods. He gave a grunt of appreciation when he looked up and found Bahar more or less where she was bedded down for the night.

Stock still and every muscle a quiver with anxiety, Bahar flared her nostrils and gave a slight nicker over to him and a pensive toss of the head. Carnehillion stopped what he was doing and went over to ease her nerves, as she was still anticipating another unexpected natural outburst, giving her a calming brush down.

While stroking her muzzle, Carnehillion quietly addressed Radagast, "Did those martens follow us from the very onset, or did we release them from Dol Guldur? Were you aware of them when we left your house? I kept an eye out for them ever since we first noticed them. For me that was back when Quickleaf and that Abasi fellow had a fight. I can't say I found much of a trace of them when we were on the river, or when we went into that town. By the looks of it, they beat us here and have been waiting."

[Earniel]

"Well, I do have to admit not being able to say precisely what will happen or whether there will be trouble when we meet the martens face to ...whiskers," Radagast said as he had finished dusting himself off.

"However," he said as he lifted up the canvass of his flattened tent to see how the contents had survived. "However, they may just have done us a favour. Not by sending us camp a-tumble, mind you, but if these creatures are also looking for the Guardian -which I think they are- then that place where they created that whirlwind, is a very good place to start looking ourselves."

The canvass of the tent had protected much of Radagast's belongings, for which he was glad. Even the Dol Guldur scrolls were still protected in the leather binding he had placed them in. He was so intent in checking that he didn't quite catch Carnehillion's question at first.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm quite sure the martens came out of Dol Guldur, Carnehillion," he said after the rider had repeated his question. "The Elves surely would have seen them before, after all, they had camped there for quite a while at my request to guard the entrance before we arrived. But you are right in that the martens have beat us to the Hills, they seem to know where to go better than we do. Yet... I daresay they haven't beaten us to the Guardian yet."

[Acalewia]

"If they know where to go better than we do," Aelfwine said, various objects in her arms. "Shouldn't we just follow them? At a safe distance that is,"

[Midge]

"And do we want them to beat us to the Guardian?"

[Amael]

Two weeks after preparations were made to inform the angry Elven townspeople that they may be escorted to the Grey Havens, matters had deteriorated. Thus, A'mael and Ingwionis, along with their staff, could not break this news to them as it could light a great conflict. The Elves in Ingim (City of Ingwionis) were separate from the Easterlings now. Whilst the Easterlings in the city wanted peace, they knew that they could not have it with the Elven staff of the city. Under respect for their elders, the Elves in the city followed what the minority staff told them to follow. It was most-unlike Lothlorien, or Rivendell. It was as if the Elves themselves, most of them living in the northeastern parts of Middle Earth, had taken on the personalities of the Men of Khand: no peace so long as the west ruled.

A'mael and Ingwionis were nearly powerless against the rising turmoil. And then one day, Mid-Summer's Eve 5 IV, war! 50 Easterlings were killed by the well-armed Elven force of just 10. The Easterlings demanded intervention, and they got it. While Ingwionis was sleeping, and during the fight, A'mael left the house of the city seat, and rallied two of her friends, much older than her. Together, they were able to summon a strong but short storm upon the fighting factions. Surrounded in striking lightning, both the Elves and Easterlings stopped fighting. As the storm began to subside, A'mael walked down the steps of the city seat towards the city square and screamed at the top of her lungs for the fighting factions to calm themselves.

"If you wish to fight amongst each other and form groups of hatred amongst yourselves, you will do it far away from here. I forthright banish you from Ingim and proclaim that the council will be 7 Easterlings and 7 Elves strong. Now go, and join the bandits beyond our borders!"

A'mael was resolute, expecting to have some positive result; however, one Elf in the crowd tossed some sort of liquid in a bottle in A'mael's direction. She dodged it, but the bottle erupted into a giant plume of flame. A'mael escaped, but could feel the heat of the eruption. The flame followed a wooden rail up to a pillar of the city seat. A'mael rushed to awaken Ingwionis. Ingwionis immediately raised the banner of the guard. Fortunately, the guard responded quickly. By some chance, the guard meeting the conflict was 32 Elves and 32 Easterlings strong. A majority of the Elves formed up and took archer positions while the remainder of the force began to drive the warring Elves from the city square, towards the eastern gate of Ingim.

Within three minutes, the clashing forces were completely driven from Ingim, and forced to camp about a mile away. While the banished and angered fled, the community congregated at the square. Meanwhile, the blaze that had started at the city keep had been thwarted by the town's fire brigade. Unfortunately, it took a lot of drinking water to put down the blaze.

As the townspeople amassed at the center of town, A'mael and Ingwionis gathered their new staff.

"Ingwionis", A'mael addressed her husband. "I had to issue these orders. 7 Elves and 7 Easterlings will comprise the city's council. I hope now that this will alleviate the iissue."

Ingwionis looked at A'mael, agreeably. "Yes", he smiled. "I think this will work out too."

Throughout the next days, the townspeople would gather to hold the banished members of the city on trial. The 10 Elves who attacked over 100 Easterlings and killed 50, mostly with stealth and archery, were banished from the city, to be escorted east, beyond Urd, to be tried by their own. Another Elf, who attacked A'mael and her bodyguards, was locked in the city dungeon where he would eventually be released to face a more "Gondorian brand of justice", as Ingwionis called it. Most of the Easterlings who defended themselves were let off, yet 10 of them were temporarily placed in the city dungeon.

With the new staff elected, A'mael and her husband would make plans to be parents yet again, and make for the Grey Havens themselves. They would travel to Gondor first to reunite with their daughter, and then northwest past Isengard and the Misty Mountains, through Eriador, and finally to the harbor. The plans were nowhere near final, as it seemed that Ingwionis had plans of his own ... and these plans would not take them west.

[Earniel]

"That would have been exactly my suggestion as well, Aelfwine," Radagast said. "We may have more luck by following them, than by criss-crossing the Hills all by ourselves, looking for the markers. As soon as we've collected and packed everything, we will head for their trail."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl surveyed the now-disarrayed campsite with a frown. She had, much to her relief, managed to keep her balance when the weather had settled, unlike some of the others, but this wasn't a good sign. High winds never were, and they would be lucky if nothing was found to be missing after such an event.

She made no move to help with clearing the scattered debris, instead folding her arms and pondering what she had just witnessed. She didn't like it, and her gaze kept flickering back towards the Hills in the north, as if she expected something new to appear on the horizon.

Nothing did, and Tabrîl decided to keep her concerns to herself. If this bothered her, she reasoned, then to the others it must seem even more unsettling, and she was not about to make the situation worse. She walked across to where the animals were gathered, some of them looking nervous enough to bolt, and she whispered to her horse soothingly as she tried to calm her.

She turned back just in time to hear Radagast's last suggestion. 'Seth'enati?' she offered. 'I have nothing to collect,' - this was true enough, Tabrîl's few possessions had been securely packed - 'perhaps I might ride ahead, to ensure the way is clear?' It was not that Tabrîl particularly wanted to do this, more that she felt that she ought to, and that it would be better for her than remaining where she was.

[Ingwe]

After some level of peace was made in the town of Ingin, there was more than enough time for thinking...perhaps too much.

While most of the people in the city were thinking about what was to become of the outcast citizens of the city (as in, will they return with an army and kill us all), Ingwionis was thinking on the journeymen - the Dwarf, the Elves, the humans, the wizard, and the free folk searching for the Entwives in what literally could become the longest journey in Arda's history!

Ingwionis could make out the mountains of the east, looming in the far distance. Only three of its peaks could be seen from this city - Peak Myakhar, Peak Lumar, and Peak Illuin. The latter of the three was the north-most peak of the Orocarni, and Dwarves were rumored to live under those mountains, in a nearly-impenetrable fortress-city similar to Khazad-Dum, only longer-maintained and probably much larger. The mountain itself once formed a junction between the Orocarni and Iron Mountains. For long it had been held as a point of mystery even to the brethren of the east. But finding the Entwives there - that would be impossible. Unless the group were to find them dead there (or find the mountain fortresses ransacked should these Entwives still be in great number).

Ingwionis could only think that the Entwives had to be somewhere near where he and A'mael left the group. Somewhere near that area and to the north, he thought. "For all I know, I could be right, I could be wrong, or somewhere in between. For how do I know they are to be found all in one place?"

[Earniel]

His arms full of equipment, Radagast looked up when Tabrîl addressed him. Indeed, he remembered she had not brought much luggage of her own and she didn't seem inclined to help other gather theirs. But Radagast had seldom met warriors with an interest in house-keeping so this didn't surprise him. And it was a good sign that she wanted to make herself useful instead.

"Excellent, Tabrîl," he said. "Please see if you can find a good path north, we will follow quickly enough."