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Landril and The Grey Guard

Part I

This story takes place many months before Frodo leaves the Shire

The sea wind gently tore at the white and gold coloured robe of the elf standing on a pier in Mithlond. The elf's eyes were fixed on the horizon but his mind was far away. Suddenly soft footsteps coming up from behind turned the elf's attention away from his pondering and he turned around to see who was approaching.

 

"Landril Glamamarth, we have not seen you here in Mithlond for a very long time." The approaching elf said.

 

When Landril had fully turned around he was suprised to see the Lord of Mithlond, Cirdan, standing in front of him. He had only met Cirdan a few times over the ages and he was surpised the elf Lord remembered him, nevertheless he bowed his head in deference. "Lord Cirdan, an unexpected pleasure."

 

Cirdan returned Landril's greeting with a smile. "What brings you to the Grey Havens?"

 

"I..." Landril's voice trailed off for a few seconds as he searched for the right words. "I came here to see if it was the call I have been feeling."

 

"The call to Valinor?" When Landril simply nodded Cirdan took to word again. "And would I be correct if I assumed that you are not feeling the call?"

 

"Correct, Lord Cirdan. I came here since I have been feeling an... urge to travel west, but now when I am here the only thing I feel is that I have travelled too far west."

 

The Lord of Mithlond looked out over the sea. "There is a war coming, Landril, a war in which we elves will have very little part. As you know the time of the elves is in the past and the dominion of the men is here." Cirdan turned to Landril. "But a few of us elves yet have a part to play in middle-earth, and I think you are one of those."

 

Landril nodded slowly. "Yes... it is not yet time for me to travel to Valinor." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "I can feel the war coming and the world changing. And I fear this war will be every bit as grim, bloody and ultimately crucial as the last war against the Dark Lord was."

 

"It most likely will." Cirdan replied grimly. Then he once again smiled. "I will leave you to your thoughts now Landril but I hope you will join the rest of us in the great hall, at least for a moment, before you take your leave?"

 

"I certainly will, Lord Cirdan." And now for the first time during the conversation he smiled. "And thank you for your insight."

 

"I am glad if I could be of help." With a bow of his head Cirdan turned around and left.

 

Landril watched Cirdan walk away and was amased how clearly the elf Lord had seen right into his soul and so easily determined where his path lay. But Cirdan was after all one of the mightiest beings in middle-earth and he knew lore and had powers few other in this world possessed.
Landril's thoughts once again turned to the coming war and the wars of ages past. He still remembered the last war against Sauron as if it had taken place yesterday, despite that it was thousands of years in the past.

 

He had served in King Gil-Galad's army at that time and he had been proud to follow such great a king. But then during the final battle against evil, the dark lord himself had appeared in all his evil glory, he had so easily slayed hundreds of elves and men. And when both Gil-Galad and Elendil fell to Sauron's might something had broken inside of him, the will to fight on all but vanished.
Only Prince Isildur's bravery and remarkable feat to somehow defeat the dark lord had saved the day then.

 

The thought that the world again might have to experience such a war was very... saddening. But since it was not his fate to leave middle-earth just yet, he would do all he could to fight evil and lend the race of men his aid. With a final glance of the vast sea he left the pier and in the sunlight his white and golden robe shone brightly.

Part II

This story takes place a few years ago, just before the expedition to the Mines of Moria takes place.

Landril Glamamarth, clad in his usual white armour, slowly climbed the last steps up the stairs to the upper levels of the ruins of Ost-in-Edhil. His face showed both joy and sorrow and his eyes saw things none of his companions could see.

 

After the elf came a woman and two hobbits. Nehariel was wearing her heavy armour and the two longswords drawn, Landril had told her no weapons were needed here but it didn't hurt being prepared in this dangerous land.A few steps behind the tall ones the hobbits Winagrim and Nodlos came panting up the stairs. Both of them cursed Landril's stubborn insistence to go up here.

 

By the time the two hobbits had reached the top Landril had already walked away and was standing in the middle of a large square. In his mind Landril had travelled many thousands of years back in time, the ruins had been transformed into houses, archways and pillars. The desolate square was busy with elves living their lives, he could even see three dwarves from Khazad-Dum. With a smile he remembered how the elves of Eregion and the dwarves of Khazad-Dum had traded and been on the most cordial of terms.

 

This place had been his parents' home as well as his... until the war of the Elves and Sauron. That war had destroyed Eregion, his lord and liege Celebrimbor and his parents had died and his life had been shattered. For some reason though Landril had managed to survive, he often wondered why he had survived through the ages when much more powerful elves, men and dwarves had perished. Except his own martial skills he had no special powers, the only magic he knew was the magic inherent to all elves and he had no great relics of power.
With the destruction of Eregion and with too many painful memories to possibly stay in Eriador Landril had travelled east to Mirkwood and settled down there. His thoughts and the illusion was suddenly dispelled when Winagrim spoke up.

 

"You've been here before haven't you?"

 

Landril nodded to his hobbit friend. "Indeed I have... I once called this my home. In the second age this place was known as Ost-in-Edhil, the capitol of the elven kingdom of Eregion."

 

By the saddened look on he elf's face none of the companions had to ask how Ost-in-Edhil had become a ruin, Nehariel though knew all about it since Landril had told her previously. Landril eyed his companions and was soon smiling again, the last few hundred years he had wandered Middle-earth searching for something he could not quite explain. He had not really know what it was, not until he had found The Grey Guard.
In The Grey Guard he had found people dedicated to protect the free peoples of middle-earth and a willingness to actually seek out and fight the forces of evil that was hard to find anywhere else. Most people were content with defending their homes but in order to truly end the enemy you had to seek them out, defeat them and utterly destroy their lair and this was the members of The Grey Guard willing to do.

 

When some time had passed and Landril had been left alone with his thoughts the restless Nodlos walked up to the elf. "Is it far to the Gate of Moria from here?"

 

Landril shook his head, the real reason the four of them were here in Eregion was to enter Moria or Khazad-Dum as he preferred to call it. He still remembered the glory days of Khazad-Dum and preferred the dwarven name over the sindarin name of Moria which meant 'Black Chasm'. "It is not far to the Gates, just a couple of days travel."

 

Nehariel gently took Landril's hand in her own. "Then let's go, the rest of the Grey Guards are probably already there."

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