The Pentanath: Adventures in the Avathar
A Posthumous Writing of The Watcher of Tol Eressea
Chapter 31: Book 5 -  Into the Fennas Dolen
by Sienna Dawn

Haldir stared hard at the Vanyarin elves. "What common goal is that?" He asked slowly.

The elf who had just spoken smiled indulgently and replied, "We are sent by the great lady herself to tend for Cala-tintallë, for shadow has twice attempted to draw the light from it."

Haldir thought a moment, his fair face pensive and grave. Then he replied carefully, "Then we do indeed have a common goal for I seek he who attempts to darken the light of that great tree, and of this land."

The Vanyarin elves nodded in understanding, as one commented, "It is indeed a blessing that you have come, for much damage has been already done to the Cala-tintallë, though we strive night and day to heal its wounds."

"It is as when Ungoliant poisoned the Two Trees." Another said sadly. The other Vanyarin elves murmured at this comment but Haldir made no reply. It was common knowledge that the Avathar had spawned Ungoliant Gloomweaver, and that together with Melkor had conspired to kill the great trees of Valinor, whose light and beauty had graced Aman for countless ages.

The Vanyarin elf who had first spoken to Haldir now added. "And you say there is one who would willfully poison the light of the Cala-tintallë?" His voice held an urgency which had not been there. His bright eyes held Haldir's. He saw Haldir nod and then sighed. "I am called Daerwë, of the House of Ingwë." Daerwë turned slightly left and nodded in the direction of his companions. "These are also of my house and kindred," He singled each out for Haldir. "This is Norglos, lore master of the city of Valmar." Norglos looked at Haldir and nodded once. He was a slender elf, with a grace and beauty matching his unique gift.

For the next moments, Daerwë introduced the other Vanyarin elves. There was Laewel, builder and architect, a serious elf with a steady bright gaze. Then the others were presented as Iarthol, tender of gardens and all wild things; Celos, craftsmith, whose gift was in the fashioning of gems and mithril; finally there was a very young elf, named Fëanel, whose apparent skill was not completely understood by Haldir, but had something to do with speaking to the great Cala-tintallë.

This young elf interested Haldir much more than the others and he carefully studied Fëanel's gentle countenance. The young elf, realizing he was the object of Haldir's experienced gaze blushed somewhat and averted his bright gaze.

Haldir waited patiently for the introductions to end, while accepting a seat by the great fireplace. At last, the introductions came to an end and all of the Vanyarin waited upon Haldir. He felt Min's stare upon his face but he did not glance in her direction. He well remembered her warning. He realized that here, with these elves, there could be no subterfuge.

"I am called Haldir, of Lothlorien, now of Tol Eressea." He saw the name of his beloved Lorien did not register upon the faces of the Vanyarin, who remained impassive. "I am herald to Varda, Queen of the Stars." At these words the Vanyarin stirred but made no comment. Haldir continued. "I am he who planted the Cala-tintallë upon this land and am returned to
bring back a palantir wrongfully wielded by one who aims to darken this land once more."

At these words Fëanel spoke. "Then you seek Eadendir o Eressea." His voice was soft.

Haldir nodded, "Aye, it is he whom I seek." Then he turned to Min, who had remained by his side quietly observing but saying naught. "This is his daughter," Haldir said, "the Lady Minuviel Thinguvion." He used her full name, and his voice was firm as he pronounced it. "It was she who led me to this place in search of Eadendir."

The Vanyarin looked upon Min but made no comment. A heavy silence fell between them until Haldir spoke.

"How is it that battle has not come upon this land?"

The Vanyarin were perplexed and exchanged looks. At last Daerwë spoke. "Of what battle do you speak?"

Haldir fixed the elf with a hard stare. "Surely, word of the attack of the shadow creatures upon the shore of this land has come upon you, even into this secluded place?"

Daerwë shook his head. "Nay, no word, though that of itself is not surprising. This great land has wrought many elven houses, not all of which live in friendship and common bond. Some of the quende of the Avathar keep to themselves, and maintain their borders closed from any foreign contact. Though we well know of the shadow creatures, for it is their darkness which daily seeks to draw the light from the Cala-tintallë." His voice was tinged with a deep weariness.

But it was Fëanel who next spoke. "You believe the shadow creatures are under the command of Eadendir o Eressea, do you not?" His voice was gentle and kind.

Haldir turned to the young elf, noticing how bright was his face and how fair his countenance. "I have no proof, yet this I suspect."

The other elves made no comment but it was Min who suddenly spoke, her voice deep and sure, smooth and unmeasured. "My father has long sought to control these lands and now by the power of the palantir seeks to control those who have dared to look within that stone. All who seek the power of the Gwaehedir are forever bound to its fate." Her green gaze sparkled meaningfully and she let her gaze rest for a brief moment upon the faces of all the elves. Realizing no one had comment to make, she urged, "You must find him, wrest the stone from him and destroy it. It is the only way, for I suspect the shadow creatures are come from his own mind, and are not of the stone's making."

At these words, Haldir turned to Min but made no comment. It was Iarthol who at last spoke. "Then indeed Eadendir has become insane." He looked about him and saw his companions nod in silent agreement, though he saw Haldir's features had hardened into an unreadable mask. "What say you to the Lady Minuviel's words?"

Haldir pondered a moment and then spoke. "Authority has not been given to me to decide this issue. I am here to bring him to the Tanequetil, and the justice of the Valar." His eyes raised to meet Iarthol and his voice was calm.

Seeing there would be no comment from the other elves, Haldir continued. "But tell me this," he began, easing back into his chair, though his arm and shoulder throbbed and his head ached from the loss of blood. "How is it that no battle nor word of battle has failed to reach here?"

"The shadow-creatures walk not where the Vanyarin reside," Iarthol answered, "and it is for this reason we are sent here." He saw that Haldir still did not understand and continued. "This is a great and vast land, and much of it lies still unexplored and bathed within the dark of starless nights. The light of Aman has not yet reached all of its shores, and Eadendir commands but a small portion of this land."

Haldir frowned at the implications of the Vanyarin's words. "Then the quende who serve Eadendir are misled." He saw the others nod quietly.

A soft clicking brought Haldir to turn in his chair. A slender elleth had entered the lodge. Haldir saw her evade his gaze. He turned back to the Vanyarin elves. "Who commands this place, then?"

"There is no one who commands this place, Haldir o Eressea," Daerwë answered. "This land where we reside, and its bounty, are held in common by all who dwell within it. Every elf tends to the welfare of the land and contributes as is his or her wont, each according to their capacity. It is," he continued, rising and walking to the slender elleth who had positioned herself discreetly away from the group, "as was once long ago when the quende first awoke upon the shores of the Cuivienen and sang to the stars." He smiled affectionately at the elleth.

But Haldir did not fully comprehend. "Still, how is this possible?"

It was Min who answered Haldir. "Haldir," she began, "there is much you have yet to learn and it will not be learned in one day," she saw that her words hit the mark, for a stern look appeared upon his face. She reached out to touch the sleeve of his tunic. "All will become clear to you. Do not be in so quick a hurry to know all." She eyed his arm, for though Haldir had made no comment, she had seen how he favored his arm and had rightly guessed he had probably sustained injury to it. "For now, " she began, "let us tend to your arm, for I can see it pains you overmuch."

Haldir started at Min's words though he hid his surprise well. At mention of Haldir's injury, Iarthol spoke, "Indeed, Haldir o Eressea," he turned and motioned to the young elleth, "have you any wounds?" His quick eyes dropped and studied Haldir's form.

Unaccustomed to being the subject of such scrutiny, Haldir felt uncomfortable and responded grumpily, " 'Tis of no consequence and pains me but only when I move the arm, though I have lost a fair amount of blood. It will heal soon enough." He added in dismissal.

Yet, he was urged to remove his over tunic and it was then that the Vanyarin realized that the dark coloring of Haldir's clothes concealed the bloodstains which had initially soaked the garment through. "Nevertheless," Iarthol said firmly, "it shall be attended to."

In seconds, the elleth had approached Haldir and begun to gingerly inspect the shoulder and arm. After a moment, she turned and left the lodge, leaving word with Fëanel that she would return with a healer. Though Haldir realized his wounds needed tending, he was also impatient to proceed with the business at hand and it took a severe and stern look from Min to settle him and bid him wait for the healers to arrive.

After what seemed like endless hours to Haldir, the healers arrived. The wound was inspected and though found to be deep, the bleeding had thankfully ceased. Carefully, they sealed the wound, packed healing herbs over it and bandaged it heavily. The healers had done their job well and Haldir's arm and shoulder throbbed less. Once more he turned his attention to the matter of Eadendir and the palantir, and he began to question the Vanyarin elves thoroughly.

For a long while the elves explained to Haldir the comings and goings of the Avathar, that much which they knew. Haldir learned that the elves who now lived upon Avathar were the re-embodiment of elves long held in Mandos' Halls, a thing which, after seeing Min, he had suspected. Its confirmation by the Vanyarin then came as no surprise to him and he now well understood the enormity of Eadendir's crimes. For when Mandos released an elf from his glittering halls, would that elf be cleansed from past sorrows and grievances, to be once again returned to life. That Eadendir had corrupted that which had been made pure by the Valar was a crime of unheralded proportion and Haldir held no pity for the old elf.

At last, after much arguing, the group had decided upon a course of action. Haldir would be granted an escort into the deeps of the Avathar, and so search for Eadendir himself. A hushed argument had arisen between them until it was decided that Fëanel would accompany Haldir. Yet, it was Min who surprisingly objected to the choice of Fëanel as companion, arguing that she too be considered for the journey at hand. Yet, it was Haldir who objected to this, not wishing to place Min in peril at the hands of her father.

Still, Min had argued hotly, nearly glaring at Haldir, "I am the best choice, Haldir, for Eadendir knows me well, as well as I know the outlands of the Avathar." Green eyes bored into Haldir's calm but resolute gaze.

"Nay, Min," Haldir had argued, "you are of best use here, close to the heart of the quende who serve the Cala-tintallë. Should the need arise, you are the logical choice to reach the Guild, for my brothers know you well."

Iarthol had spoken then, "It is true, then, as Haldir speaks." He had looked at Min, "we have no trucking with the Guild and if, as Haldir says, the Guild knows of you, then you would be best served remaining close at hand."

Seeing herself outvoted, Min had fallen silent, though a determined look still marked her delicate features.

Once the decision was made, the young elf stood and walked to Min and together they left the side of the fireplace and stood under a small window, engrossed in a very private conversation. After a moment, an intimate and shy smile appeared on Min's face and gently Fëanel reached out for her hand, raising it to his lips and there placing a tender kiss. This was not wholly lost on Haldir, though his mind was focused on other issues. His shoulder and arm throbbing, he rose from his chair and walked to the door of the lodge, opening it and looking beyond it. He saw open forests, thick groves and much more. All were bathed in a soft twilight whose source seemed to come from somewhere within the center of his line of vision. The light was gentle and ebbed and waned.

Closing the door, Haldir turned to face the Vanyarin elves. "Tell me of this land, of the quende who dwell upon it, and how I may find the Cala-tintallë. Indeed, this will help me in my search for Eadendir."

"But how can this information help you discover the whereabouts of Eadendir?" One elf asked curiously.

"I will let the Cala-tintallë show me." Was Haldir's enigmatic response.

After eating a light supper, Haldir was led outside of the lodge and further away toward a large expanse of wood where he was startled to discover a series of telain and flets. He was shown to one and there he spent the night, dropping wearily onto a wide and soft bed. Not far from him, Min laid awake, thinking and remembering.

He was still as she recalled, a formidable physical presence. She turned her head upon the soft pillow and closed her eyes. Curiously, she felt no pain, only a mild detachment. Her feelings had begun to change in the twinkling of an eye after her release from Mandos' Halls, cured as she was of her past ills and sorrows. Now, her heart was once more beginning to thrum with the beat of love...but not for Haldir. She smiled in the gloom when Fëanel's fair face interrupted her thoughts. With a slight chuckle, she turned over and drifted into sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a cool and misty evening when Haldir and Fëanel set off, mounted upon fleet horses, whose steps were sure and firm. Silently they rode away, toward the ebbing light of the Cala-tintallë. They rode quickly and hard, each elf locked within the silence of his private thoughts.

Haldir anticipating the eventual confrontation with Eadendir and Fëanel already longing for Min.

Haldir looked about him as they rode. Though the land was still misted in a soft twilight, the undisputable beauty of the Avathar was difficult to ignore. Unlike Aman, whose golden light shone from one end of the world to the other, the Avathar represented yet another facet of Illuvatar's will. For though the Avathar was dark in many places, its shadow was not born of evil, now that its poison had been cleansed by Manwe and the rest of the Valar. No, Haldir reflected as he looked about him in amazement. This land, he mused, must be as it first had been upon the shores of the Cuivienen, before the sun ever shone, and soft starlight yet still misted the land. He listened to the gentle sounds of the land and was slowly, despite himself, enchanted by the Avathar. He heard the soft footfall of small animals, the sighing of the wind, the rustling lullabies of trees and the hooted notes of a night-churr. Far off, when he concentrated, he could hear the rushing waters of a waterfall.

Hours later they stopped and allowed the horses to rest. Haldir's shoulder ached, but the pain was duller now. Obviously, the draught given him by the healers was doing its job well. He had been given enough to last him several days, though he did not plan on using it all. Never before had he succumbed to the pain and burdens of injury and war, and he was not about to begin now. Flexing his arm and shoulder, he turned to Fëanel and watched as the younger elf unpacked his steed. In moments, Haldir did likewise.

After unfolding thick mats from their packs, the elves ate a quiet meal and then planned the rest of the journey.

"The Cala-tintallë is but twenty leagues away." Fëanel explained as he ate. "We shall reach it 'ere first sleep."

Haldir looked at the young elf and frowned, "First sleep?"

Fëanel smiled, "Yes, it was difficult for us at first, to understand how the Avathar measures time, in a land where no sun or moon shines." He saw the light of understanding come into Haldir's eyes and he continued, "here, time is marked by periods of sleep. First sleep is that which we, in Aman, call morning."

Haldir nodded and reached for a small silver flask at his side. Drinking deeply of the sweet water that he knew contained healing herbs, he pondered the young elf's words but said nothing.

After a while, they rested and then set off again, wishing to reach the Cala-tintallë before much more time had passed.

"What happened upon the shores of the Avathar?" Fëanel suddenly called as they rode side by side.

Haldir turned his bright gaze upon the young elf and replied, "Creatures made of shadow attacked Guild fleets and warriors upon the shores of the Avathar." His lips were pressed into a firm line and then he continued, "Many perished." He thought back to the terrible carnage and to the hideous act of elf killing elf. Haldir turned and gave Fëanel a swift glance before turning away and continuing. "I came to find my brother who was held prisoner by Eadendir and then we were commanded to this land. The eagle upon which we rode was attacked by a creature and perished also. When we arrived, we were taken by Eadendir's warriors and held for long months. Until now." he concluded and guided his horse around a thick clump of trees, Fëanel's steed following. "When the Guild attempted to land upon the shores of the Avathar, they were attacked. Many quende under Eadendir rushed to shore and fought with Guild warriors." He heard Fëanel softly speak.

"Then grievous indeed is Eadendir's part in all of what has come about." His fair face was pensive.

Haldir made no response to this comment, in his heart silently agreeing with the younger elf.

Spurring their mounts, the elves drew steadily closer to their goal.

~*~*~*~*~

High upon a verdant hilltop a great tree grew. It stood, proud, erect and attentive. Its wide branches extended about the land where it stood rooted, as if massive arms protected all that grew beneath its shade. It was a singular tree, made of mithril and golden leaves, whose wide bark was also tinged with the golden light of the Valar. From it came a great and healing light, though the tree knew its time had not yet come and thus kept its natural essence from flaring too brightly. It was only when the creatures of the dark came that the tree suddenly erupted into a great luminosity and drew the shadow beings away from it.

This was the Cala-tintallë, Light Kindler, a child of the great tree of Tol Eressea, planted by Haldir o Eressea and tended by the Lady of the Gulls.

Now the great tree listened and watched, aware that soon would begin the time of its greatest trials. Beneath soft grey twilight skies, the luminous tree slowly expanded its light and in supplication to the Lords of the West gently raised its limbs heavenward. As if in response, a lone star from the distant northern horizon suddenly broke through the murky skies and cast its silver glow upon the tree.

And all about the Cala-tintallë abruptly grew hushed, as if the world itself awaited for what it knew not. For hours uncounted did the great tree listen to the counsel of the Valar and when their silent discourse was ended, did the mighty tree slowly lower its massive branches, until once more did they drape and embrace the land about it. Turning its senses eastward, it waited for the two riders.

~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, the terrain began to change. No longer did forests and scrub brush surround the elves. Soft marshland began to peak in places, rich in moss and water plants. Dark and twisted shapes of dead and dying trees banked the elves on all sides. Their shapes were silhouetted against the dark sky like jagged mountain peaks as if a great and menacing presence watched them unwaveringly. Stumps of trees bereft of leaf or flower jutted out from the ground and the elves urged their mounts with greater care. Not far away the elves' keen senses detected the faint aroma of stagnant water and rotting compost. In the midst of this, not a single bird called or wind stirred. The silence fell upon them in heavy waves, as if a mantle had suddenly descended upon them. Despite themselves, the elves shuddered.

Haldir looked about him as his steed slowly cantered alongside Fëanel's mount. "This place is as from a dream." His voice was soft, but the
younger elf had heard.

"We are entering the Fennas Dolen, the hidden paths that lead to the Nend Angol." His voice was strange sounding in the eerie silence. "We must be ever cautious from this point forth. The water paths are enchanted and will lead astray any traveler that falls prey to its magic." He cast a worried glance in Haldir's direction.

Haldir nodded gravely. "Like the fens of the Aelin-uial." He whispered softly, referring to the enchanted marshland in erstwhile Middle Earth. There, in Beleriand, a labyrinthine maze of lakes and fens met at the Rivers Aros and Sirion. Erected by the great Maia, Melian, it had been fashioned to protect the elven city of Doriath, and could only be forded by the elven marchwardens who kept a watchful eye over the entire length of the watery forest.

"Yes," breathed Fëanel in quick response. "It is much the same as the Aelin-uial, though the power behind the magic of the Fennas Dolen is not as pure and good as that of Melian."

Haldir frowned at this, understanding the veiled implication of Fëanel's words but deciding to make no comment. Instead, he spurred his mount slightly ahead of Fëanel's steed, heading headlong into a large canopy of twisted trees. In moments, their gloom had swallowed him and his steed. Not long after followed Fëanel, turning once to look behind him before urging his steed into the dark marshland that loomed before them.

~*~*~*~*~

Into the gloom that was the Fennas Dolen they went. Swallowed whole by its pitch-blackness the elves and their steeds tread with care. It was silent, within the Fennas Dolen. Silent and deadly, a waiting presence biding its time until it moved against them.

Haldir looked about him, scrutinizing every branch, limb and stump with the practiced eye of countless years as marchwarden of Lorien. He could hear the soft breathing of the younger elf behind him, a sound only detectable to elven ears. No other sound save Fëanel's breathing came to Haldir's senses and this worried him greatly. Even here, he realized, was the power of the Valar kept at bay. How this could be was a mystery to him, but it came to Haldir that should any evil befall them, then he and Fëanel had only their wits and skills to rely upon.

A sudden movement, to his left, brought Haldir out of his reverie. He turned quickly and studied a small grouping of dead branches that lay unobtrusively on the side of the path they followed. Curiously, Haldir noted that their path was not blocked by debris of any sort as if it had been purposely carved out of this dark marsh. This too gave him food for thought.

"What is amiss?" Fëanel whispered.

"Nay, naught that I can see, though..." He studied the side of the path where the rustling sound had come from but still saw nothing. "I can see naught." He repeated, this time a little more loudly than necessary. He wanted to make sure whoever was there knew it had been spotted.

Fëanel relaxed somewhat though his senses too were afire with dread. He did not like the Fennas Dolen but knew it was the fastest route to the Cala-Tintallë. Always he had skirted around this endless marshland, taking the route of the golden Dorenduin, preferring to travel by open river than through this abominable terrain.

"Uanuis!" Fëanel softly breathed, looking about him, his spirit recoiling at the sense of doom and death that permeated the Fennas Dolen.

Behind him, Haldir heard Fëanel's soft exclamation and agreed. It was indeed hideous, a place not fit for any elf. Slowing his steed to a careful pace, Haldir slowly withdrew the large sword that abruptly appeared at his side. In the gloom, the sword glittered brightly with a bright blue iridescence. Haldir well knew what this presaged.

Seeing the weapon in Haldir's hand, Fëanel quickly followed suit and unslung his great bow from his back, reached behind into his full quiver and quickly nocked an arrow into place. As if on signal both elven steeds halted simultaneously. Elves and horses listened in the gloom, feeling with their spirits that something...some thing...approached them. They stood their ground, waiting.

In moments, it became audible. A wailing, moaning cry that reached into their very souls. Recognizing it, for it was the same wailing Haldir had once heard before, long ago in the House of the Elms, he turned and called to Fëanel, his voice rising above the growing moans.

"You must not listen, Fëanel!" Haldir saw that the younger elf was already coming under the spell and power of the anguished cries. "Fëanel!" He called, only this time in his greatest voice, lending all of his power into it, "Fëanel! You must not listen!"

Dimly, Fëanel was aware that a bright light flared before him and from it called a mighty voice, a voice that urged him not to listen. But how could he not heed the anguish within the wails? His was the gift of compassion for he was a student of the great Vala, Nienna, she who teaches compassion and pity. How could he not lend soothing comfort to the owner of this desperate plea for help? He strained to hear the voice that called to him, but it was no use, the despair of the moans and wails was too much for his spirit to ignore and he gave heed to the wailing, attempting to speak to it, to ask it to tell him what it needed, what it wanted.

Haldir watched with growing dread as Fëanel's bright face suddenly darkened and upon it danced a malevolent grin, as if another's face replaced those of the younger elf. He swung his great sword, now brilliantly flashing mithril-blue but to no avail. The thing that hovered over Fëanel was neither man or beast, flesh or blood. It played upon Fëanel's face, contorting the fair features of the young elf until all that was left was a terrible sardonic smile. Haldir watched the incredible transformation, and saw within Fëanel's eyes the spark of a foreign intelligence, one that was dark and sure with malevolent intent.

The elf-thing that Fëanel had become swiveled its head slowly toward Haldir. It spoke then, using Fëanel's voice, but not Fëanel's spirit, for that was somewhere buried, safe within the cocoon of the elf's deepest self.

"That which thou seekest cannot be found. Be safe, traveler. Return! Lest forever be bound!"

The strange riddle was spoken in a soft voice, a near whisper, and Haldir remembered Fëanel's warning about the strange magic of the Fennas Dolen.

Deciding not to answer the eerie taunt, Haldir instead dismounted his horse and came 'round to Fëanel's side. High atop the elven steed, which snorted nervously but held fast, the Fëanel-thing watched Haldir with a great interest.

"Whichever way thou turnest, thou cans't see. Turn back, traveler, turn back and be free!"

It hissed softly, the sardonic grin still plastered upon Fëanel's face, the dark ovaled face still hovering over the younger elf's features.

Haldir stopped abruptly before the nervous steed, patting its neck gently, soothing it with the soft phrases he had learned from the horse wardens of Lorien. All the while the Fëanel-thing watched him, observing quietly, a smirk on its shadow-face. Beyond it lay Fëanel's features, frozen in a silent grimace.

Slowly and deliberately, Haldir aimed his great mithril sword directly before the Fëanel-thing. Watching the shadow-creature carefully with an unwavering stare, Haldir cried in a loud voice, "Depart, foul and stinking creature! Be gone, and leave this servant of the Valar in peace. I will have no trucking with feeble-minded heralds and messengers of evil!" He fixed the thing with a cold stare, "Return to your master and tell him that Haldir of Eressea has come to mete out his doom, for the Lords of the West await their appointed time high upon the spires of the Taniquetil!"

The mithril sword flared and from it came a great arc of blue-white light. Unmindful of the sharp pain in his shoulder, Haldir grasped the sword with both hands and swung the sword high above his head, directing the flame of Varda's power toward the thing that still danced upon Fëanel's face. "Be gone!" He repeated in an even greater voice.

Suddenly, a loud clang of metal met his sword and Haldir was abruptly catapulted backward, away from Fëanel's steed, as if an unseen hand pushed him away. Confused for a moment, his instincts coming to the fore, Haldir whirled and met the parry of the unseen attacker with a sword-thrust of his own, meeting the clash of metal. He turned and was about to thrust and parry again when a pair of cool, green eyes halted his moves.

Haldir stared at the blue-clad figure standing before him. From behind him came a soft cackle. "Thou was warned, traveler from Aman. Be gone, be gone." The voice whispered urgently.

Haldir turned and looked back at the Fëanel-creature once more, before quickly whirling to face his opponent. He was unsure of his next move, bur this was decided in a moment when the blue-clad figure parried and aimed a golden sword directly at his heart. Haldir stared at the figure in silence, waiting.

"You should have let me come, Haldir." Min's features were stern, her eyes flashing with undisguised anger and resentment.

Haldir frowned, aware of the soft cackling behind him. He did not respond but in a silent challenge instead took a step closer to Min, the point of the golden sword digging deeply into his chest, but not quite cutting. He knew that one thrust from her would cut him down in an instant.

"You should not have brought him here." Min said firmly. "An elf of the Light should not walk in the shadow of the Fennas Dolen!" She cried, this time briefly rising her gaze to the Fëanel-thing before looking at Haldir again.

Still Haldir waited, knowing now silence was his best course of defense.

In a fluid motion, Min lowered the sword and walked around Haldir, approaching the Fëanel-thing, sheathing the sword at her side. "Depart!" She called to the thing, "Your services are no longer required." She raised one hand and waved it in dismissal, and then turned to stare at Haldir once again before leaping gracefully onto the elven steed. She seated herself evenly behind Fëanel, grasping his waist tightly. With ease, she expertly turned the steed to face Haldir, commanding the animal as if it were her own.

Haldir watched the unfolding scene quietly. He looked upon Fëanel's face and saw that at Min's command the shadowy face began to dissolve, its dark stain fading slowly. In a moment, Fëanel's features were once again visible, his face beginning to relax, the tortured grimace melting into a relaxed, vacant look.

Now Haldir approached the elven steed and looked up at Min. "How is it that you are here?"

Min gazed down at Haldir, her lips fixed in a firm line which he well knew meant he had somehow earned her disapproval. " 'Tis of no consequence now, Haldir. We must move quickly away from this place, if we are to save Fëanel."

Haldir frowned but said nothing, rapidly walking to his own horse and gracefully leaping onto its back. "I would know how it is that you can command a creature of this magic, in a place where not even the Valar reside." His question was spoken quietly and he saw her flinch slightly.

Turning Fëanel's steed around, Min studied the dark marsh before them and then said, "Answers aplenty there are, Haldir of Lorien, but we first must ford this place to reach the Nend Angol 'ere the Keepers of this place awaken to our presence here." She turned and gave him a swift look, spurring the steed onward.

~*~*~*~*~

They rode swiftly, as fast as the spongy marsh would allow, fording pencil-thin streams of flowing water, skirting tall and dead stumps of trees that jutted mutely from the ground, the ever constant sense of doom all about them.

Haldir rode behind Min, thinking and remembering her as she had once been. No longer was she the demure elleth of Tol Eressea, but a strong-willed, intelligent female who was beginning to stir a deep respect within Haldir's heart.

Thinking of Min brought Lisse to his mind and Haldir suppressed the yearning that rose in his heart. He concentrated instead upon the terrain, looking ahead and scanning the shadowy shapes of trees and brush that loomed before them. Inside the Fennas Dolen, the air was moist and thick with the aromas of rotting wood and stagnant moss.

"A most unhappy place." Haldir thought to himself, guiding his steed around the banks of yet another small pond. From behind him came the distinct splash of water but he did not take the time to look back.

Ahead of the riders suddenly rose a great wall of thick trees, each crowding close upon the other, their limbs tightly entwined about one another. High toward the sky they rose, straining it seemed to reach a sliver of starlight. No leaf or branch stirred for no wind rustled the trees. Min halted her steed and Haldir followed suit. He waited silently behind her.

"The doorway to the Nend Angol." She said quietly, staring at the massive trees that rose before them. "These are enchanted waterways, Haldir. We must be ever watchful." Urging the steed forward slowly, they approached the trees with care.

Behind her, Haldir was aware of every branch and limb, his keen senses alert for movement. Yet none came and his steed followed Min's slowly. 'Ere long they passed under the canopy of the trees, and Haldir was surprised to see that their trunks were not as close upon each other as they had seemed from a distance. He noticed the air was drier now, and devoid of all aromas. He wondered briefly how this could be.

In and out their steeds wove about the dark forest, massive trees beside them, their trunks wide and bathed in shadow. Beneath the sure-footed elven steeds the ground was dry and not as spongy as it had been within the Fennas Dolen. Haldir wondered why this place was called Nend Angol, the Magic Waters, when no waterways were visible or moisture of any sort was evident.

His thoughts were cut short by a sudden and very loud crash within the forest. Eerily it echoed all about them and Haldir was unable to sense from whence it came.

Min halted abruptly and held on tightly to Fëanel. She turned to look back and glanced upon Haldir's face. A look of deep concentration was etched upon his face and she realized he was trying to fathom the origin of the sound.

" 'Tis of no use, Haldir." She said quietly, turning her steed back toward him. "The Keepers have awakened and they know we are here." Her eyes darted quickly about them, searching but finding nothing.

"Who are the Keepers, Min?" Haldir asked, bending forward to calm his nervous steed. Gently, he patted the animal's neck until it quieted. It was the second time Min had referred to the Keepers.

"They are the wardens of this place." Min explained, "And they are not overly fond of intruders. I had hoped to ford the Angol 'ere they realized we were deep within their borders...alas..." Her voice died off, her meaning clear as she looked once more about them before gazing upon Haldir again. She tightened her hold upon Fëanel, worried that they might not be able to get him to safety before the darkness of the shadow-creature held fast upon the spirit of the young elf.

Another loud crash sounded again and this time Haldir realized it came from behind them. He turned back and then faced Min. "We must move rapidly, Min. Know you the way from this place?" He knew that here, within this vast darkness, he was dependent upon what was obviously Min's knowledge of the Nend Angol.

Without responding, Min turned her steed around and began to lead the way. Again, but this time more urgently, they rode within the darkness of the Nend Angol, still deep inside the green darkness of the forest. No more sounds followed them, but Haldir sensed they were still not out of danger.

A circular clearing suddenly appeared in the thickly wooded forest and Min raised her hand. At once both steeds came to a halt. Haldir looked about him, looking up to see the expanse of starry sky above them.

Min slowly walked her steed about the clearing, peering into the gloom of the trees that banked it. Haldir waited, watching her, but saying nothing. In a moment, Min spurred her horse toward Haldir. Her eyes flashed with a strange luminosity.

"I have but a thin memory of this place, Haldir, and my recollections of it tell me that this is where should be the boundaries that mark the lands of the Goeol Faradrim, but the sentinels are no longer here," she looked about her again before adding in a soft voice, "and I do not know why."

Somehow, Haldir knew this was not a good thing, and he replied, "Then we must continue forth, for Fëanel needs must be attended, no?" He eyed the younger elf, whose face still held a gentle but vacant stare, neither looking about him or responding to the situation in any manner.

Min nodded quietly and looked about her again. "The trouble is that I do not know which way the path leads, for the sentinels are gone." Her voice was tinged with worry.

"Can you not guide yourself from markings upon the trees?" He asked, remembering how he and his wardens knew every limb and branch of the Golden Wood, able to track by simply remembering the layout of the forest. He saw Min shake her head.

"Nay, I cannot do this, Haldir, for the way is forever changing." She glanced at him. "That is the danger of the Nend Angol and the root of its magic." She pressed her lips in a thin line, thinking.

Haldir then understood. The forest changed its paths so that no traveler could ever be able to guide himself within it. Suddenly, many things became clearer to him. Magic of this sort was difficult to combat and he wondered how this was possible. "Who wields this magic, Min?" He then asked her softly.

Min looked at Haldir, her response within the emerald green of her eyes, but she said nothing. Indeed, Haldir well understood the answer and he felt an even greater anger toward Eadendir.

"Haldir," Min's voice interrupted Haldir's thoughts. He looked at her. "You are the herald of Varda, cannot you not wield her power here?"

"Nay," Haldir answered quickly, "I have no power here."

"But your sword," Min countered, "I saw you bring it forth from nothingness."

Haldir smiled, "And what shall I do with it, then?"

Min stared at Haldir, and fell silent, still not understanding. Instead, she looked about the clearing then. "I suppose it makes no difference in which direction we go." She urged her steed. The horse carefully headed toward the woods once more.

They had gone no further than a few feet into the thick wood when a voice called out to them. It boomed all about them, a deep, rich bass that spoke with confidence and the certainty of its power.

Min and Haldir halted their steeds at once, as elf and animal stood quietly, listening to the voice.

At last, in a quiet whisper, Haldir spoke, "Is this the sentinel?" His eyes canvassed the area but all he saw was tree upon tree, limb entwined within branches.

"Yes, it is one of the four, though I cannot say from whence it speaks." She too was carefully surveying their surroundings.

Again, the booming voice spoke. Haldir concentrated upon the words, but realized he could not decipher its meaning. Looking upon Min, Haldir spoke, "Can you understand it?"

In the darkness, Min nodded, "It is telling us to proceed no further."

"Can you not speak to it, Min?" Haldir asked, his gazed rooted to a narrow pathway amidst the trees that had not been there a moment before. In front of the pathway abruply appeared a small and oval-shaped bright pond of water, its dark liquid swirling about, as if attempting to make a whirlpool of itself. In seconds, as the elves watched, the pond elongated itself, stretching and widening, growing and coming nearer to the elves and their steeds. Nervously, the horses snorted and neighed softly, tossing their heads to and fro. Steadily, the water crept toward them, increasing its speed, weaving purposefully forth with a movement not unlike the slithering of a serpent.

Min looked at Haldir, and then cried, "It has started then! The Nend Angol is attempting to trap us, Haldir!"

Before Haldir could answer, a terrible splintering behind them rent the silence of the wood. Both elves and horses turned as one, staring in horror as trees once entwined tightly were split and sundered as if a massive and unseen hand stretched out to part them. In silence, they waited as the terrible splintering sound died down. Then, in the silence that was before, they saw a path into the deepest woods and not even the elves' keen sight could penetrate the gloom beyond it.

"Into the maw must you go." A voice above them suddenly boomed in Sindarin. Haldir's horse started violently and he held on lest it throw him. He saw that Min's horse neighed nervously and that she struggled to maintain her balance without losing hold of Fëanel.

Haldir turned his head, seeing the water rapidly moving toward them. And as he looked, he saw that a large black shape had positioned itself between them and the swiftly moving water. He knew that behind them lay the entrance to the newly formed path. Tearing his eyes away from the serpentine water, he strained to focus his eyes upon the black shape. It was a thing difficult to see and he wondered why he was unable to see it clearly. Never had he experienced this and he was at a loss. Instinctively, he reached for his mithril sword.

"Nay, Haldir!" Min cried out, "put your weapon away or we forfeit our lives!" Her voice held a terrifying urgency, one that Haldir obeyed at once, and he resheathed the sword.

"I cannot see the thing, though my eyes tell me there is something there." He called out to her.

"That is one of the sentinels, sent by the Keepers of this place." Min replied, watching as the serpentine water attempted to wind its way about the sentinel. Yet, the sentinel blocked the water's path, preventing it from reaching the elves and their steeds.

"Haldir!" Min cried, "it is giving us time to escape! We must turn toward the way behind us!!" She urged her reluctant steed toward the newly formed path. "We must obey the sentinel's command, if we wish to live. This is the land of the Goeol Faradrim, and those who trespass their fences face a hideous fate, if we do not first succumb to the Nend Angol. Come!" Again she urged her steed forward.

Haldir concentrated upon the sentinel, his own steed closely following Min's. But it was when they were but moments from entering the path, when a second sentinel abruptly descended from above, silently settling beside the path's entry, frightening both elves and steeds.

Haldir quickly gained control of his horse and looked askance to Min, and was glad to see that she too had managed to rein in the steed and maintain her hold over Fëanel. He looked at the creature, as the steeds nervously slowed when they neared the path.

In size the sentinel was massive. It was not an animal or quende, but a strange mixture of both and it seemed as if its skin was as smooth as water-polished stone. It sat upon its hind quarters, much as a dog or wolf would. Its face was strangely elven, and though it had elven features, it did not seem to possess ears. Its lips were thin, its nose straight and narrow. Yet it was the body that fascinated him, for it seemed both made of flesh and shadow, its shape and form changing and morphing all the while he watched it. It was then that the creature looked down upon him and captured him with its gaze.

An intelligent gaze, Haldir realized, and it watched him unwaveringly as his steed slowly approached the open path into the gloom. Haldir locked his gaze onto the brilliant eyes of the sentinel as his steed drew closer and closer.

Min halted and turned to look back at Haldir, waiting for him to draw nearer. When he was by her side, she looked back at the sentinel which still sat by the side of the path. "Do not gaze overlong at it, Haldir, though you may be sorely tempted to do so. The sentinels are sentient creatures and possess a will of their own. Their motives for serving the Keepers is as of yet unknown to us, though we strive to maintain a neutral bond with them. It is not often we ford the Nend Angol and when we do, we are in need of their good will."

Haldir listened to this remarkable statement, wondering who Min was speaking of and what had he truly stumbled headlong into, though he decided silence was for the time his best course of action.

"Draw no weapon, nor make no challenge and all shall go well." Min advised, looking meaningfully into Haldir's eyes. She captured his gaze for a moment longer than necessary and then turned her steed toward the path once more.

Remembering Min's warning, Haldir tried to avert his gaze from the sentinel, though he found that this was indeed a hard task for he was strangely attracted to the creature though he knew not why.

Slowly, his steed neared the path and drew closer to the sentinel. More than once Haldir had to lean down and pat his horse's neck. Finally, he stood so close that he was able to clearly get a good impression of the creature, its true size and form.

It was larger than he had anticipated, though it sat upon its haunches, it still rose far beyond the tallest tree. Though it did not look solid, Haldir realized it emanated a sheer power that was difficult to ignore. As he had suspected, its skin was smooth as polished marble, though it was hairless, and Haldir half-suspected it would be cold to the touch, if indeed the sentinel could be touched at all. Its face was a blend of quende and something else, something not quite elven, and he was reminded of the sentinels that guarded the gates of Mordor in Middle Earth. Yet, he remembered, those sentinels did not speak, not really, and they did not move. Not like the fluid movements of this creature.

"Into the maw must you enter." It suddenly boomed at Haldir, its rich bass voice enveloping him.

Haldir raised his gaze, against Min's advice, and looked into the sentinel's eyes. He was surprised to see the benevolent intelligence there, though he was not wont to trust it. Urging his steed forward, he followed Min and slowly entered the dark path that lay before them.

This is the end of Book 5. Book 6 is to follow...

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Key:

Fennas Dolen - Concealed Gateway (Old Sindarin)

Nend Angol - Magic Waters (Old Sindarin)

Tanequetil - Manwë's Mountain. In Aman, the home of the Vala, Manwë, whose glittering spires rise high into the sky. From there, Manwë watches the comings and goings of the Children of Illuvatar.

Dorenduin - doren (oak) duin (river) Old Sindarin

Uanuis - hideous (Sindarin)

Goeol Faradrim - Terrifying Hunters (Old Sindarin)

~*~*~*~*~

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Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.
Painting is taken from John William Waterhouse's "Miranda", 1875.

Graphics copyrighted Cari Buziak