It was a cold winter, especially moreso in the northern regions such as the woods of Annúndir that resided between the Fields of Fornost and Kingsfell. Despite the temperature, the day was glowing, but the sun hid behind a mask of clouds. It was to be expected as light comes with heat, and if heat was masked so should light. Perhaps, in a month or so, the snow would start falling, where food would become scarcer and hibernation becomes the matter of survival for wildlife. To the north were the southern mountains of Angmar, to the west was the beauty of Lake Evendim and the fallen city of Annúminas, a sorrow fate indeed, and whilst to the east was the great forest of Nan Amlug.
The woods of Annúndir were filled with wildlife that were clueless to the many wrongdoings in the world, and perhaps their ignorance is what keeps them alive. For knowing little is better than knowing too much. The woods were peaceful, for a time, but even peace must be broken with danger, for it seems like there cannot be a world thriving on peace alone. It was most unusual and indeed terrifying for the mere grey squirrel to catch sight of a huge beast with a raggedy damp-white coat, cruel eyes, sharp claws and menacing jaws, sprinting through the woods. Despite all this, a perceptive being could notice that on side of his coat was a streak of blood from an open cut, and as the warg ran in ‘fear’, he was bleeding heavily. Soon enough, the warg slipped and fell into the ground, and a deep pile of soil. The grey squirrel watched with amazement, from his tall and safe tree.
For a moment or two, there was silence. The warg stood up again with renewed strength and a sense of relief that whoever wounded him, would not found him. The warg growled, and greatly hungered for something to quench his appetite. Yet, as the warg was about to go into a light jog, another creature whom was even bigger leaped out of the bushes. A creature of green and gray, tall and lean, leapt out with a long object – a blade? The blade looked beautiful, and was clearly something with history behind it. The warg winced in pain and fear; begun running now. The creature with the sword smiled with satisfaction and respect, and chased the warg. Through the many bushes and thorns, the creature finally was close enough to pounce onto the warg’s back and end his misery. The squirrel that was watching sprinted away from the creature, choosing to avoid him completely.
The creature cleaned his blade against the grass and begun carrying the warg with his bare-hands, far from this spot. Hours later, when the noon sky shifted into late evening, the creature was sitting next to a fire – finishing his meal, which was the warg. It was a nice meal, for him. For he has slain a threat, and retrieved a meal from it. His hood was down, revealing his cloudy-grey eyes, a youthful face that showed charm, with unkempt dark hair that hadn’t been cut in a long while, in comparison to his cleanly-shaven face. His attire – green and gray, were invisible in the darkness of the night. The Ranger was staring at the stars, a beautiful sight as always, and thinking a great many things. Things concerning his home and his family. He has not been there in three years, not a long time for one such as him, but it seemed long in this early age. After a while, the man sighed to himself and he decided that it would be best to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day for Nenusidh, and indeed one that changed his life to an extent.
When dawn struck the lands like lighting, Nenusidh snapped his eyes open. His sleep was restful with no dreams, the best kind of sleep. He began to gather his equipment before preparing himself to leave. He had no need for breakfast, for the warg was certainly a feast and he wouldn’t feel hunger for a great many hours. Before finally departing, Nenusidh observed his surroundings and said goodbye to these woods, for it’d be days that he’ll see it again. But he didn’t know that it’d actually be years. He put his hood up, and began his trek to Esteldín. The journey was hours, but filled with little danger and is not worth going into much detail nor length.
The sky was a light blue, with noon creeping up soon enough, it was then that Nenusidh has come to see his birthplace. He smiled with affection and nostalgia before carrying on forwards to Esteldín. It certainly wasn’t homely nor looked comfy but it did look ‘safe’. And that is a word that we all need in our lives – safe. He parted kind words of greeting to the Watchers before walking inside the fortress that was greatly hidden within the Kingsfell Mountains, from their enemies.
“Halt!” A warm yet commanding voice cried out.
Nenusidh knew who it was instantly but said: “I heard your footsteps, and your breathing. You never were as much good with stealth, as I.” He turned around with a smile on his face, “Brother.”
A man came out of the shadows – he was beautiful yet wise and strong, a well-loved man. His grey eyes were full of compassion; his dark hair was long but more groomed than his brother, and he was clothed in a light green. His bow was long, his quiver was full of green arrows – a certain oddity of him that Nenusidh never understood, and his blade hung at its sheath. He smiled, “It has been too long!”
The two fell into a great conversation concerning what has gone in the past three years. Lagoron has journeyed further into the world, by voyaging to the Lone-lands and the Trollshaws and even into the Misty Mountains. This was a time where Lagoron’s knowledge was becoming more well-known and people begun calling him ‘Iston’. Lagoron has spoken of great length on its people, his meetings with the Elves of Imladris, the Eglain and their customs. As he spoke, he spoke with enthusiasm and joy, and this did not surprise Nenusidh as his brother always enjoyed exploration and the learning of history and culture. “And what of you, brother?” In comparison, Nenusidh did very little but travel across the North Downs and Evendim, and trying to ensure that the Lands of the Dúnedain are as safe as they can be. He gave no clear answer, and what answer he did give was interrupted when a ranger came to Lagoron and asked: “Brother, do you know what happened to Fainor?”
Lagoron frowned, “Nay, I only arrived two nights ago. Why do you ask, Midhon?”
His face turned into a worried expression, “For he was one of the few who ventured into Angmar to look into the orc-threat that has recently come up… Yet, that was three months ago. He had sent word frequently until five or so weeks ago. I fear that he has perished, like the few others who had ventured to Angmar too.”
Nenusidh interrupted, “And how is the orc-threat?”
“It still plagues us, even worse now than before! Someone or a couple of someones will need to look into it, but most here will not venture into Angmar with fear of evils returning there, and says the best we can do is protect these lands as much as we can.”
Midhon sighs with despair before turning away from the two rangers.
But now Nenusidh was curious but also worried. For, he loved the North Downs and his birthplace – Esteldín, and the thought of orcs or worse things harming these lands and his home, concerned him deeply. When Lagoron turned to face Nenusidh, he noticed a gleam in his eyes. Determination filled Nenusidh’s pale grey eyes, and Lagoron with all his wisdom and perceptiveness said: “Nay! You cannot go to Angmar, brother!”
“Aye, I must. I must do so, if no-one else is willing to end this plague of evil.”
“Do you not remember your history? Our history? Angmar is a foreboding place!” It is queer, as despite they being brothers, it is easily mistakable that Lagoron would be the scolding father whilst Nenusidh seeming to be an overambitious son.
“It was a foreboding place. No greater evil has come, otherwise we shall know for certain. And if a greater evil will be coming, then I must weaken Angmar before it can strike our home.”
Lagoron looked at him with grim eyes, “What would father think? And mother?”
Nenusidh replied plainly, “That I am doing my duty. Like all of us.”
With a sigh, Lagoron muttered, “If this is what you truly wish then you must prepare. Unfortunately, Father is wandering and it is not clear when he shall be back. Only Mother remains.”
Nenusidh nodded, “I will inform her. You may as well tell Midhon what I’ve decided.”
Lagoron left Nenusidh, and Nenusidh journeyed to find his Mother. I do not know how their conversation went, the length of it or what was spoken. However what I do know was that by the end of it, his Mother’s sadness has ceased and pride has emerged out. It was his shortest visit, as in three years, you’d expect for him to stay days or weeks. But all wisely advised him to not tarry, for in the five weeks of no word, no one could guess how much stronger the orc-threat could be.
Indeed, it was hours later that Nenusidh was fully ready with supplies and a sufficient amount of farewells to all but his Father who was absent. Lagoron stood on the hill, where they would depart. “Brother, I wish you the best of luck.”
“I wish you luck too.” Nenusidh replied.
Lagoron smiled, “Despite my concerns, I am proud that you’d be bold enough to do this. Or stupid enough. I do not know which, for I have seen both sides of you.”
Nenusidh laughed, his last laugh in a long while: “Let us hope that we shall meet upon this hill again, with successes on both sides.”
Lagoron nodded and embraced his brother with much affection. I will agree whether it is bravery and loyalty to his home, or stupidity and stubbornness that drove Nenusidh towards Angmar is unknown. But nevertheless, the ranger has begun the trek to Angmar with his trusty sword – Gwennor, a quiver full of green arrows (his brother decided to replenish his quiver of the arrows he would use), with a sturdy bow. He was hooded and masked in green and grey, and was ready as he’ll ever be.
He looked back at Esteldín, a place that he’ll hold dear in his heart for the entirety of his life. He said in a grim, yet strong tone: “Do not worry. I will ensure I do all I can to protect you.” Before turning away from it, and approaching forwards. Never realizing or knowing that it’ll be years before he ever leave Angmar again. And when he did, he’d be a changed man – for better or for ill.
