Chapter Text
After a few hours spent on horseback, a ride which Galadriel immensely enjoyed since it gave her a sense of true freedom, the trio arrived at the hall of lore. Camnir seemed to have enjoyed the long horse ride a lot less as he wasn't as skilled at handling horses as Galadriel was. Elendil on the other hand, also seemed to have had the time of his life in the saddle.
They got off their horses and entered the hall of lore, which had been completely abandoned for quite some years now. Judging by the state of the old library, it was safe to say that none had entered since Elendil last took Galadriel here for information. As Elendil and Galadriel immediately started browsing the many scrolls that lay stored there, many covered with a thick layer of dust, Camnir's attention was drawn towards the large painting that hung on one of the walls.
“I have walked passed this painting many times,” Elendil began as he joined Camnir in front of the painting. “I should have recognized Elrond immediately as soon as you disembarked from your ship.”
Camnir just absently nodded while he continued to stare at the painting in front of him. He had never seen the painting before, he had never seen Elrond's twin brother while he was still alive. Seeing them together like that on the canvas made Camnir feel somber. It was like gazing back through time when life felt less complicated. There was no war, no Sauron as far as they knew and no destruction in Eriador.
“Are you alright?” Elendil asked with some concern on his face. The Sea Captain had noticed the melancholy stare of the Elf and placed a comforting hand on the Elf's arm.
“I'm fine...” Came the short reply from Camnir. He tore himself away from the painting and walked over to Galadriel who deposited some scrolls into his arms.
“Can you read through these and see if you can find any references that might be useful to us?” Galadriel asked while she grabbed more scrolls.
“What is it that we are looking for exactly?” Camnir questioned her while he took a seat at the large table in the center of the chamber and opened up one of the scrolls that were given to him.
“I do not know exactly, anything that perhaps relates to this issue or perhaps personal journals of Elros himself where he describes his gift of foresight.”
“Foresight?” Elendil asked curiously as he too sat down with a handful of scrolls which he laid out on the table in front of him.
“Yes, it is a gift shared by those of his bloodline.” Galadriel replied looking down at him. “Perhaps his ability to foresee events yet to come, is somehow related to his current affliction. It is just a theory but I think it is worth looking into this matter. After all, this is the only place where we might find more information about this, it's the best option we have I believe.”
Elendil looked uncomfortable at this glint of knowledge he received. Though doubtless his abilities were not as attuned as those of the Elves in his bloodline, the Sea Captain himself was able to sense things that were still to happen. Wasn't it the reason why his son left the Sea Guard so foolishly? He knew that these glimpses into the future could result in disaster. If Elrond's ability was somehow influenced by the wound he received... The unsettled look on his face did not go unnoticed by Galadriel. “Is something wrong?”
“Well, there is something you need to know about the lineage of the current ruler of Númenor.”
“You mean Queen Miriel? I know she has foreseen...” Galadriel remembered the uncomfortable conversation she had with Chancellor Pharazôn mere hours ago. “But she foresaw the future through the Palantir..”
“Though she was the child of Tar-Palantir, thus making her the rightful ruler of Númenor, Elros' direct descendant is sitting here right in front of you.”
Galadriel's eyes widened as she took a closer look at the Númenorean who had been so helpful in the past. During her previous visit to this island, it was Elendil who first showed her that not all of Númenor had forgotten about their kindness towards the Elves. If Elendil was truly the direct descendant of Elros, it would make the fact that it was he who fished her out of the sea even more ironic. Fate sure has strange ways of revealing itself.
“Why did you not tell me earlier when we were last visiting the hall of lore?”
“I did not think that information would have been relevant. Besides, in case you hadn't noticed, the political situation here is quite sensitive. I did not want to give you oil to throw on the fire.” He looked at Galadriel with a slight smirk.
Galadriel blushed slightly at the memory of being thrown in jail after having challenged Miriel's legitimacy and dared her to speak to Tar-Palantir. She realized then how much more complicated the situation could have been if she had claimed Elendil as the rightful ruler instead in a rush of anger, the Sea Captain would probably have been thrown into jail with her.
“Is it really true?” Camnir interrupted the two. The Cartographer also had a face of disbelieve as he looked at them both in turn.
“Here is a scroll of his lineage if you doubt my words.” Elendil handed Camnir the scroll that Miriel's grandfather desperately tried to make disappear. It was in fact one of the reasons why the hall of lore was almost destroyed. If this became common knowledge, the rule of Queen Miriel could have come under question. Camnir unrolled the scroll and saw that the Captain was indeed telling them the truth.
“Now what is this about a Palantir that you mentioned earlier? Did it have anything to do with our encounter with Pharazôn?”
“You are as sharp as ever.” Galadriel replied. “As you are probably aware, Palantiri are used for communication. They were originally created by our kind and gifted to the Númenoreans. While I was locked in your jails, I escaped and visited the late Tar-Palantir. Miriel discovered me however and showed me one of your Palantiri. She told me that the orb showed her the destruction of Númenor itself. I touched the Palantir and saw the exact same vision. Pharazôn must have discovered it as well. During our meeting earlier today, I could see it in his eyes, he saw something, probably the same vision Queen Miriel and I saw.”
“Well, that would explain the sudden change of his stance towards a military alliance between our Nations.” Elendil answered in deep thought.
“One thing I do not understand however, “ Galadriel continued. “The vision does not show how the destruction starts, who or what caused it. Queen Miriel, like her ancestors, blamed our kind for being the catalyst so I expected someone like Pharazôn to immediately accuse us, but he didn't. The vision must have been altered.”
Camnir suddenly spoke up, “I think I got something! Here, you need to read this.” He handed over the scroll in front of him to Galadriel who took it eagerly. Elendil switched from his spot at the table to sit down next to Galadriel so that they could both read the scroll at the same time. It was an old journal from Elros himself. The scroll warned about the dangers of foresight, how it could be corrupted by dark forces if not careful, and a ritual to draw the darkness out. Though judging by the words, this was mere an unproved theory.
Galadriel did not seem to comprehend the workings of this ritual but Elendil recognized the method immediately as his face turned pale.
“What does this mean?” Galadriel asked. She turned her head towards the Sea Captain and saw the blanched look on his face. “What is wrong?”
“You are not going to like this...” Came the short reply from the Sea Captain.
Back in Elendil's mansion, Arondir and Adar were joined again by Vorohil and Beriedir. Precious time had been lost in searching for the guards who were strolling around a local market place. They were discovered by a frantic Arondir who was actually scouting the market for any signs of Elrond's whereabouts. The Peredhel was however not present at the market place, the only thing they discovered was a disgruntled vendor complaining about that someone took one of his finest axes without paying.
As soon as he spotted Vorohil and Beriedir enjoying an apple on the edges of the market, he unceremoniously ran up to them and threatened to cut off their ears and leave them behind in Númenor indefinitely if they didn't immediately return towards the mansion.
The threat was both serious and out of character enough that Vorohil and Beriedir did not argue with the erratic Silvan Elf and followed him back to the mansion in a pace that bordered on running. Once inside the mansion, Vorohil turned on Arondir while Adar stood restless beside the Silvan Elf. “What has happened?
“Your precious Half-Elf has gone missing.” Came the reply from Adar.
“What?” Vorohil yelled out while Beriedir softly uttered a curse.”How could this have happened? How could he have disappeared from right under your very noses?”
“Apparently he jumped out of a first floor window.” Adar replied almost sarcastically.
“We need to find him now!” Arondir continued, ignoring the jab from the former Uruk. “I do not know what state he is in right now but if it is anything like how he was last night, then he is a great danger to both himself and to those around him.”
“We need to inform Galadriel about this.” Beriedir stated solemnly.
“She and the Sea Captain are hours away from our position. We do not have the time to inform her, we have already lost too much time. He could be anywhere within this city by now. We will go and comb out the city, each of us will search through a different quarter and when one of us finds him or finds just a small clue to his whereabouts, he will inform the others through Osanwë so keep your mind open as this is vital.” Arondir replied. “If we have to run back for each other, we lose too much time that we do not have.”
The others nodded but Adar looked less certain about this. It had been ages since he had opened his mind to anyone. The prospect of allowing a bunch of Elves inside his mind was truly daunting to him. As an Uruk, he quickly learned to shut down his mind to anyone, especially to Sauron himself who is known for tormenting others through Osanwë. This is probably what the Deceiver was doing right now to the mind of the poor Half-Elf.
The four of them moved out and spent the following few hours looking for their lost Commander who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. While Vorohil, Beriedir, Arondir and Adar were by now fully panicking on their search for their lost Herald, Elrond wandered quietly onto the grounds of Armenolos' court in front of the royal palace. Nimloth the fair white tree bloomed in the middle of the square. It was said that the line of Elros would end if the tree were to be destroyed.
No one around him paid much attention to the Half-Elf as Elrond used a part of his blue cloak as a hood so his pointed ears remained hidden. The entrance to the palace was filled with citizens looking to gain entry to attend a council on the current affairs within the city. In between the Númenoreans, no one batted an eye on the Peredhel making his way slowly towards the fair white tree.
The tree itself was surrounded by a handful of guards whose official task was to guard Nimloth but their real job revolved more around keeping the peace before the entrance of the palace. The tree had stood here blooming for many centuries and not once had there been an external threat towards their fair and sacred tree. One of the guards saw the hooded Peredhel approach the tree as he focused his attention on the wandering Half-Elf.
Just like the night before, Elrond's eyes were not his own friendly grey. He looked downright absent while walking purposefully towards the tree. The strange cold voice within his mind repeated the same sentence over and over again in his thoughts, Destroy the tree....Destroy the tree....Destroy the tree....Destroy the tree and I will set your mind free. There will be no more pain, only a reward for stopping the biggest threat that prevents me from healing Middle-Earth.
Elrond stood a few meters away from the tree as he gazed up at the white blossoms towering above him. The guard nearest to him, who had been watching him earlier, had now shifted his gaze back on the crowd in front of the palace. None of the guards expected any of the Númenoreans bearing ill will towards Nimloth, the guard must have assumed that the man in front of him just wanted to take a closer look at the beautiful blossoms whose pleasant scent spread around the entire city.
Elrond took out the axe that he stole earlier from a vendor at the busy market place near Elendil's home. He stepped forward with large strides and before any of the guards noticed, he swung the axe and planted it straight in the stump of the tree. This did however immediately caught the attention of several of the guards including the one who was watching him from afar earlier.
“Hey!” The guard, who saw the hooded man earlier, yelled out. “What the blazes do you think you are doing?”
Elrond removed the axe from the tree which started to bleed a bit before hitting the tree again in the same spot. The guards rushed in on him yelling at him to stop harming the tree but the Half-Elf did not pay any attention to the sentinels until they were upon him. Two of them tried to grab him by his arms but Elrond was quicker. With one swift move he turned around and bashed the closest guard in the head with the axe. Fortunately for the guardian, his helmet caught most of the blow as he was knocked backwards unconscious onto the ground.
By now, five guards were circling the Peredhel with drawn swords. Even though they were all quite heavily armoured, Elrond managed to held his own against them. The ongoing battle right in front of a now bleeding Nimloth drew a rather large and rowdy crowd. No one knew who this seemingly insane man was who felt the need to attack a rather defenseless tree.
The commotion drew the attention of Arondir and Adar who were searching for their lost Commander nearby the palace. After having searched most parts of the city, Adar joined up again with the Silvan Elf to give his report, despite Arondir's order to relay information through Osanwë. The Silvan Elf was about to complain when they suddenly heard the strange commotion going on above them. The two looked at each other and rushed up the stairs leading up to the Palace.
When they arrived at the courtyard, they pushed past the rowdy crowd until they could see what caused the unrest. Adar couldn't help but shake his head in frustration while Arondir went pale. There he was, their lost Commander battling multiple royal Númenorean guards. Even though the Peredhel was still hooded, his cloak was instantly recognized by the rest of his company. Arondir rushed forward but was held back by several guards.
“This here doesn't concern you Elf!” One of Númenoreans spoke to him as he held him back.
Arondir was faced with a dilemma. If he stood back, surely Elrond could be slaughtered on the spot by these soldiers battling him but if he revealed that it was in fact an Elf who was attacking them, it could seriously hurt their diplomatic mission. Before Arondir could make his decision, Adar stepped forward and patted the shoulder of Arondir in an almost comforting manner.
“Soldier!” Adar called out. “We can help you out if you give us the chance.”
“We don't need any of your help to solve our issues, now be on your way.” The guard threatened Adar.
A loud agonizing scream pierced the air which distracted the soldiers and the two Elves. They all turned towards the sound which came from one of the Númenoreans who crashed to the floor clutching his stomach. It was clear that Elrond had just seriously harmed another of the Royal Guards as he continued battling the others around him.
Ignoring the yells of the soldiers, Arondir rushed in on the fight in front of him with drawn sword. Adar watched how Arondir easily managed to disarm the Peredhel whose stolen axe flew from his hand onto the stone floor. Immediately the remaining guards rushed in on him and threw him on the ground before Arondir had a chance to pull the Half-Elf out of the scene of battle.
Two pairs of arms grabbed the Peredhel by his shoulders while forcing him in a kneeling position. A third pulled down his hood and gasped as he saw the pointed ears and crazed look in Elrond's eyes.
“You filthy Elf scum!” The guard punched the Half-Elf hard in his face, the force was enough to knock him down but two other guards still held him up firmly by his shoulders.
The blow was sufficient to kick him out of his trance as he looked up with scared grey eyes while blood poured out of his nose. “What....” He stammered trying to make sense of what has happening to him.
“Stop this, he is ill!” Arondir called out trying to intervene to prevent more bloodshed.
“Step away before we throw you in jail as well.” One of the soldiers replied.
The guard standing in front of the kneeling Half-Elf punched him hard in his face again. Elrond cried out in pain as he could not remember how he got here in the first place and why he was being assaulted by the Númenorean soldier who loomed over him with a murderous look on his face.
“He's had enough, can't you see that you fools.” Adar interjected. Unless you want to battle another two of us, who are much more skilled in swordplay than you will ever be, I suggest you leave him be.”
The guard who just had punched the Peredhel twice in his face turned around and hesitated, holding his bloodied knuckles with his other hand. “You truly think you can just come over here to our fair island and destroy our sacred tree? You think we will just let him go because you Elves say so?”
Arondir temporarily shifted his gaze onto the large tree near to them and saw that there was damage done to its trunk.
“Your companion will face Númenorean judgement for his crimes. I can already tell you this, the punishment for defiling our sacred tree is death.”
Elrond looked up in fear after these words were spoken. “Let go of me, I have done nothing to warrant your wrath against me.” He struggled briefly against the pair of arms that were holding him but the effort made him double over in pain as he coughed uncontrollably blood spattering the stone floor underneath him.
The two guards pulled him violently up to his feet and started to drag him off towards the cells located underneath the Palace.
“No...” The Peredhel sputtered weakly but his body felt too exhausted to fight back. “Let me go...I haven't done anything!”
Arondir and Adar attempted to follow their Commander but were held back. By now more than a dozen guards had assembled themselves on the square fully prepared to battle the remaining Elves on their courtyard. A few other soldiers were attending to their own wounded while the crowd leered at the Half-Elf as he was dragged off.
“If you want to speak to your companion, I suggest you seek an audience with our Queen. But you better hurry before he will be judged.” One of the soldiers explained to Arondir and Adar.
There was no point in interfering anymore unless the Elves wished to turn the entire city against them. Arondir turned towards Adar and spoke with a shaky voice, “We need to find Galadriel, right now!”
Elendil escorted Galadriel and Camnir back to his home after their visit to the hall of lore. The quietness inside his house worried him and his companions immediately. Where were the other Elves? Galadriel quickly checked the entire mansion but couldn't find another soul inside. Camnir hurried up the stairs and searched through every bedroom before coming to the realization that the rest of his company had disappeared.
“Where are the others?” Elendil asked in confusion.
Galadriel shook her head helplessly. “I do not know but I fear something bad has happened.”