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Middle Earth: High King of The Avari

The story of the High King's of the Avari elves.

Sherputra · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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115 Chs

A Promise and a Journey

It was now the 385th year of the Sun in the First Age, and Aurion had reached the age of 60. Though still young by elven standards, he had grown into a strong and capable elf, his skills honed under the watchful guidance of his grandfather, Maedhros. Yet, despite the years spent in Himring, a restless longing stirred within him.

It had been five years since Celebrimbor left for his father's realm in Himlad, a mere four hours' ride from Himring. The closeness of their friendship only deepened Aurion's desire to visit. The short distance seemed a cruel taunt, and the ache to see his friend again grew stronger with each passing year.

One evening, as the crimson sun dipped below the hills, Aurion approached his grandfather in the study.

"Grandfather," he began, his voice steady but hopeful. I wish to visit Celebrimbor in Himlad. It has been so long since we've seen each other, and it is but a short ride away. May I go?"

Maedhros set aside the quill he was holding and leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "No," he said firmly.

Aurion's heart sank. "Why not? Himlad is so close! What harm could come of it?"

Maedhros's gaze softened, though his voice remained resolute. "When you came to Himring, I made a promise to your parents. You are not to enter the other realms of my brothers—save for Maglor's—because of the past. They threatened your grandmother, Galadriel, and that wound has not healed. I will not risk opening it again, nor will I risk you being caught in old feuds."

Aurion clenched his fists, biting back the urge to argue. "I understand," he said through gritted teeth, though anger simmered within him.

Later that night, unable to sleep, he wandered the dimly lit halls of Himring's great hall. The torches flickered, casting long shadows on the cold stone walls. As he rounded a corner, his eyes fell upon a portrait he had never noticed before.

It was of a strikingly beautiful woman with long, raven-black hair and eyes as deep and blue as the sea. She held a delicate flute in her hands, her expression serene yet full of life. Aurion stared, captivated.

"Who is she?" he asked aloud, though the hall was empty.

"She was my wife," came Maedhros's voice from behind him.

Aurion turned to see his grandfather standing in the doorway, his tall frame illuminated by the torchlight. There was a softness in Maedhros's eyes, a rare vulnerability.

"My grandmother," Aurion said softly. "She was beautiful."

Maedhros stepped closer, his gaze lingering on the painting. "Her name was Náriel," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. "She was as gentle as a summer breeze and as fierce as a storm when needed. She was... everything." His voice faltered, and Aurion saw the glint of unshed tears.

"What happened to her?" Aurion asked gently. "I know she's gone, but... how?"

Maedhros's shoulders slumped, and he seemed smaller, weighed down by grief. "She was killed by Sauron," he said, his voice breaking. "One of Morgoth's most terrible servants. He took her from me—took her from us all."

Aurion's chest tightened at the pain in his grandfather's voice.

"She loved to play the flute," Maedhros continued, his voice distant. "The sound of her music could make even the darkest nights bearable. When I lost her... I lost a piece of myself. Your mother and you are all that remain of her now. You are the last pieces of Náriel in this world, and I will not lose you too."

Aurion stepped closer, his voice steady and determined. "You won't lose me, Grandfather. I swear it. But I cannot stay here forever, bound by promises I did not make. Let me go to Himlad. I will be safe. Celebrimbor is my friend, and Curufin will not harm me."

Maedhros hesitated, his grief and fear warring with his love for his grandson. Finally, he sighed deeply and nodded. "Very well," he said. "But promise me you will not tell your mother. If she knew I allowed this..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Aurion's face lit up with a rare smile, and he embraced Maedhros tightly. "Thank you, Grandfather. I won't forget this."

Maedhros held him close for a moment before stepping back. "Go and prepare for your journey, but rest well tonight. You'll need your strength for the road."

Aurion nodded and returned to his chambers. He quickly packed a few belongings and laid out his travel clothes, his heart brimming with anticipation. As he climbed into bed, the excitement of tomorrow's journey filled his thoughts. At last, he would reunite with his friend and take his first steps beyond Himring.