-¿¿??-
In that distant place, where time and space did not fluctuate, the tinkling sounds of chains echoed like a storm. The deep breathing of a being of absolute darkness rose like a typhoon that swept everything in its path. From time to time, guttural growls broke the silence. That empty space would have been enough to drive anyone insane… but in the midst of that darkness, the mind of the entity remained intact. Various plans paraded through its thoughts.
It was then that a tiny, almost imperceptible sound interrupted its concentration. On one of the chains that bound it, a crack—smaller than an inch—formed. The entity's breathing intensified. The growls turned into a laugh that reverberated throughout that place.
"Soon… very soon."
Few knew it, but its blessings, overshadowed by its imprisonment, were rising again like a furious tide. Those who had once been graced by its favor began to awaken what had once made them fearsome.
The foretold time of the end of its confinement was drawing near… and Middle-earth was not prepared for such a catastrophe.
...
-General-
As he went to say goodbye to Tauriel, Aldril was pleasantly surprised to see Legolas, who was grinning from ear to ear as he was surrounded by several elves. Apparently, they were listening to stories about what their prince had done over the past ten years.
Legolas saw him walk by, and the two exchanged a subtle nod. It wasn't that they had a bad relationship, it was simply that, on more than one occasion, Aldril and Tauriel had come across him at different times. The most recent was a year ago, in Hobbiton, when Aldril had visited his dear friend Bilbo.
Needless to say, Bilbo's book had already been written. His prose was so perfect that, in the parts where he spoke of Balin, Aldril had nearly shed a tear. The depiction of the old dwarf was so vivid that it felt as if he were speaking to them from beyond. Especially when Bilbo recounted a private conversation with him, in which Balin encouraged him to press on with the expedition. The old dwarf's words remained deeply engraved in his memory:
"Your size means nothing. You can be small and have greater courage than the tallest elf. Sometimes, the smallest acts bring about the greatest changes, Bilbo. Never doubt yourself."
Shaking off the memory, Aldril passed by his room, where he didn't find Tauriel. So he made his way to the garden, and there, at last, he found her. Moonlight caressed her delicate skin, and her reddish hair stood out against the soft whisper of the wind. However, she wasn't alone: she was accompanied by Thalwen, Galadriel, and—to his surprise... Sigrid? Pregnant!
His eyes widened in astonishment at the evident bulge in Bard's daughter's belly. "No doubt Bard will be in for quite the surprise," he thought, holding back a smile.
He didn't dwell further on the event, strange as it was. After all, until recently, Aldril himself had been the most recent case of an unusual birth. And now, just a few decades later, a similar occurrence was unfolding. Adding to that, Aldril paid little attention to the ethereal beauties gathered there—a further sign that only his beloved's beauty could truly dazzle him.
His arrival did not go unnoticed. Tauriel stood from her seat in a single graceful motion and walked toward him. They embraced with a tenderness that overflowed like a brimming cup.
"You returned sooner than I expected," said Tauriel with a loving smile.
For a few seconds, Aldril lost himself in his beloved's green eyes; in them, the vibrant spirit of nature came alive. He was about to kiss her right then and there but stopped himself, remembering where they were and noticing the many gazes observing their interaction.
Taking a step back, Aldril placed his right hand over his chest and offered a formal bow, for before him stood two of the most important elven ladies in all of Middle-earth.
"It is always a pleasure to see you, Lady Thalwen," he said, then turned to Galadriel. "It is an honor to see you again, Lady Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien."
Both elves nodded with ethereal grace—a natural state for them. Their dazzling beauty dimmed everything around them; even Tauriel and Sigrid felt self-conscious sharing the same space with such ladies.
"It's a pleasant surprise to see you, Sigrid—especially with the little one you carry in your womb," he continued with a smile. "Your father will be delighted to know; you should visit him. Lately, he's been having trouble with your little sister Tilda."
With a shy smile, Sigrid nodded. "I was planning to visit him in the coming days, Mr Aldril. Thank you for reminding me."
The conversation that followed was brief. Aldril had only stopped by to say goodbye, so he gave Tauriel a small kiss and turned around to leave... but the ethereal, serene voice of Galadriel stopped him.
"Be very careful, Aldril. The depths of Khazad-dûm are calling you. You are not yet ready for the horrors that await there, so watch every step you take."
The half-elf stopped. A frown formed on his face as he turned to look at Galadriel and nodded slowly, pondering the implications of her words. For a moment, he thought of the Balrog. Was she speaking of it? But something didn't make sense. The depths? As he recalled, Gandalf had fallen into the deepest parts of Moria, but what happened afterward was never truly explained. In his memories, he only saw him fighting the Balrog in the mountains, atop a dwarven watchtower.
Clearing his thoughts, Aldril continued on his way. But before he could leave, Tauriel stopped him; her hand gripped his tightly. Concern shone in her eyes. If even Aldril—with all the strength he now possessed—was not prepared for the horrors Galadriel had mentioned... how could she let him go?
She wanted to stop him, to prevent him from leaving. But Aldril's reassuring smile calmed her.
"Trust me. If there's anything I can't handle, I'll surely retreat. Besides, Gandalf is coming with me, and I'd bet my life that old wizard is far more than he appears to be," he said with a small laugh.
...
In the depths of Khazad-dûm, abominations capable of driving any human, elf, or dwarf to madness moved slowly. The slime on their limbs left behind thin strands of a thick, viscous substance; guttural growls echoed through the vast darkness. Only a radiant light could keep those creatures at bay.
There, one of the aberrations crept toward the cavern leading to the summit. Its long tentacles rose, as if yearning for what had once been taken from it. But its revenge would come soon. A revenge aimed at stripping the name of the Favored Stanza.
They knew. They knew everything.
They were the first to be created, those who came even before the ones who call themselves the Valar. What better vengeance than to silence a stanza in the Creator's Song of Life?
***
I'm back, my dear orcs, and with me come the usual updates. As you know, I've been struggling with depression, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your kind wishes. Now I'm here to say: Let's conquer Middle-earth!
Advanced chapters in: "[email protected]/Mrnevercry"