After a day and night spent in the shadow of the Colossus at the High King’s Crossing, Xandilif and Finchley prepared to set out again in a leisurely fashion, feeling no need to rush as they secured their gear. As she closed the last strap on Destiny’s saddle, Finchley was filled with a quiet dread. She knew from there, the road would lead the two companions through Men Erain along the Way of Kings. She still did not know exactly what happened all those years ago on that road, but she knew that the girl Tris died, Xandilif was mortally wounded and she found SilverWand…or SilverWand found her. Either way, she knew it would likely be a harrowing journey of memory for the elven champion.
However, as they departed from the Crossing Xandilif steered their horses North into Parth Aduial without explanation. For a moment Finch considered asking her where they were going but decided against it. Better to simply go along then to ask difficult questions.
Several days of pleasant journey followed, during which they stopped often for Finchely to hunt wildflowers, or for Xandilif to note a bit of ruin she remembered, or simply for Finch to eat. Soon enough however, they rode across an ancient stone bridge and into the ranger encampment called Tinnudir on the shores of the mighty lake.
Finchley grinned and waved cheerfully to a few rangers as they dismounted, some who recognize her and give her a little nod before returning to duties, some looking nervously to the boats nearby, remembering the last time she arrived on the shore with a boat and an injured bird. All of them, however, cast a distrustful glance at her horse, Destiny.
Xandilif spat. 'I swear to feckin' god they are terrified of your damn horse...little rangers are put to bed being told to shut up or Destiny will get em'
Destiny nickered in amusement from her spot in the stable, already charming some poor stable-ranger into giving her a treat.
Finchley laughed, 'Eh, she's not /that/ bad, Lif. She can be right sweet when she wants to.'
Xandilif looked around the encampment. 'Yeah? You tasted her lately to check?'
Finchley stuck her tongue out at Lif and looked around for a place to set down her bouquet of flowers as it was quite heavy. She may have gone overboard collecting flowers along the way, now deftly tied together with a bit of twine she had found in her pockets. The bouquet was so large she was struggling to carry it and see where she was going at the same time.
Xandilif found a space in the shadow of an ancient wall and dropped her bedroll there. "Here Babygirl..this should do. When you drop all that foliage in the lake for Gwindeth, she is gonna think ya are trying to suffocate her…or that ya wanna go steady.”
Finchley plopped her gear and her bouquet down next to Lif's and poked her in the side. "I just want to make sure she feels respected after she saved me and I didn't get to thank her for it properly."
The elf was unconvinced, 'Water spirits are twitchy...tough to tell how they are gonna respond. River spirits are worse, but still...Gwindeth is old and grumpy at the best of times.'
Finchley paused, choosing her words. '... I also want to make sure Tris gets enough flowers too.'
Xandilif shrugged and looked away. "Near as I call tell, Tris has moved on after Linhir...mostly...I think....
Finchley nodded and took Lif's hand. "Even still, we promised."
'We got other business here beyond throwing flowers and biting rangers...” Lif squeezed her hand, then looked around the encampment again, “We gonna have to resupply...and I gotta find a warden named Alagos'
Finchley nodded and then grinned. "I didn't eat /that/ much of the food Lif…and who is Alagos?"
'Yeah...just an old timer. I was damn surprised he is still alive...I gotta pay him...and Finch you ate everything that didn't move fast enough, baby girl. I kept expectin’ to see a squirrel tail stickin’ out of your mouth.'
Finchley tilted her head, 'Pay him what?'
'Money, doofus.' Lif ruffled her hair tenderly.
Finchley smacked herself in the forehead. "I mean FOR what. If it's for food, I still have the gold you gave me. Haven't spent it yet.'
The elf shook her head, 'Not food...and you ain’t got enough gold for this.'
Finchley frowned, and looked at the champion sternly, '... Lif, did you lose a bet?'
Xandilif laughed. "NO I did not lose a feckin bet...I never lose feckin’ bets…”
Finchley gigglesnorted. "Alright then, keep your secrets."
“No big secret….I started him working on something some time back, sent him a letter once I heard from a mutual friend he wasn’t dead. I knew him back in the old days when I was based around here, when he wasn't old....gave him the last details of the work a couple weeks back, so he should be done by now I will stomp his brittle bones.”
Finchley tilted her head, becoming more and more curious. "Last details? On what?... Somethin' I should be worried about?"
Xandilif slapped her in the back of the head.
Finchley winced, 'Owwwww! What for now?'
'You worry too much as it is...” Lif started off across the encampment, “When you need to worry I will tell ya so, I will say, Babygirl, start worrying.”
Finchley pouted just a little but then rummaged around in her pack for a snack before following after her, almost jogging to match her stride. "So what's he like? Besides bein' up in years."
Lif was still looking around as they walked towards the Keep. 'A pain in the arse mainly'
Finchley gigglesnorted and pulled out another stale pastry. "But Lif, you say a lot of people are a pain in the arse."
The elf nodded confidently, 'Yeah...cause they are'
Finchley shook her head and munched on the pastry for a bit as she looked out over the lake. Eventually she caught sight of trees with low hanging branches and tilted her head. “There's somethin' familiar about the way those trees look...” She stared for a minute and then shrugged. "I ain't sure. Those remind me of somethin' but I can't quite remember what... Maybe it'll come to me later."
Xandilif sniffed the air, catching a scent of heated metal. "C'mon..I expect he is this way...”
Finchley dusted herself off and adjusted her hat to look presentable before cramming the rest of the pastry in her mouth. She trailed along after Lif, wiping crumbs from her lips and giving out more waves to a few passerbys to be courteous.
Xandilif wandered until she got to the camp forges....towards the back an old man labored tirelessly. He seemed to be somewhere in his 80s, long hair grey and sparce. His right leg was gone mid thigh, and he leaned against a high stool to work, his crutch off to one side. In the light of the forge his seamed face took on an intense, reddish glow, eyes bright as he brought his hammer down again and again on a short length of metal.
The elf approaches and knocked on the side of the forge...."This where ya hiding, old man. Elbereth's knickers ya look like they need to bury you in one a them fancy tombs.
Finchley slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter at that greeting.
The old man lowered his hammer and looked up. "Well by my days....The Trollmistress arrives at last. Been keepin watch for ya but gave up days back, figured you got distracted..or dead. You are still as rude and cursed as you ever been, you sad excuse for a Valar. So, this is the youngster eh?” He looked Finchly up and down as if her were fitting her for armor.
Finchley paused and smiled before waving and holding her hand out for a shake. "Hello, I'm Finchley. It's nice to meet you, Mister Alagos."
He shook it and the girl winced at the power of his grip and the roughness of his hand. It seemed to be made of nothing but callouses. "Well, you are courteous enough, unlike that wart of an elf bitch you are travelling with...nice ta see in the young generation these days.”
Finchley put her hands on her hips. "Hey now, Lif ain't no... wart. Or a--... She's perfectly herself, thank you."
Alagos didn’t seem to notice she had spoken. “God knows these rangers are all sure they are masters of the damn world despite barely growing beards.” He looked at Lif. "Ya know how long it took ta gather all the steel you demanded? Half the price was paying folk ta go scavenge, or buy it from the damn raiders.'
Xandilif spat into the forge with a hiss. 'Did I feckin ask you your troubles? No I did not...you are getting’ paid so what do you care? Now keep an eye on Finchley while I get the gold now that I know where ya are...don’t let her wander inta the lake or anything.' The elf turned and started back towards where they had left their gear
Finchley rocked back and forth on her heels a bit awkwardly and peers over at the forge as the old man returned to work. "Whatcha makin' if it's alright to ask?"
Alagos dropped something into the bucket of cool water, the steam cleaning some of the soot off his face. 'Right now? Tent pegs. Blasted Calanglad, chief of this god forsaken place, figures I ain’t good for much more no more...In my day, heroes and princes would beg me to craft for them, would wait years for my schedule to be clear...now...tent pegs!'
Finchley stepped over closer to the forge to see. "Eh, but tent pegs are important too. How else are they gonna keep 'em from blowin' away with the wind? Every little bit helps, aye? Besides, you still made all that amazin' stuff, so you still get credit. Which means... you're still pretty great, aye?"
The old man stood up straight, dropping his hammer and turning his crutch under his arm, 'It ain’t like I can’t do it no more, girl...ain't a half dozen folk can work with the steel I do...the true stuff, from before any of us was born, the very bones of old Numenor.'
Finchley smiled. "Then that must mean that your tent pegs are the best tent pegs in the entire world."
Alagos shook his head mournfully. "Tent pegs are tent pegs, no matter who makes em...Celefeckingbrimbor could craft em out of mithril crapped by Aule himself, they'd still be tent pegs. Still, ya talk sweet,…Now I see how ya tolerate the Trollmistress, ya just blow sunshine on her.”
Finchley gigglesnorted! "Eh, I don't tolerate her, I like her very much... So no one at all ever asks you to make fancier things anymore? At all?"
'Only those that remember the old days...like the Troll mistress and...: he thought for a moment. “Well...that's about it. I expect she and me are about all left alive from those days.”
Finchley nodded, 'I'll tell you what, if I ever hear 'bout someone needin' a sword or somesuch, I'll tell 'em to ask Alagos at Tinnudir to reserve a spot and that you're the best in the world. How's that?'
He shook his head..."I won;t say no, but you tell em I don’t come cheap, not by half.'
Finchley laughed, 'Promise, I won't sell you short. I can stand outside this really long flight of stairs in Dol Amroth that Lif has to probably walk up all the time with a big sign with your name on it. There's lots of folks there with money.'
The old man picked his teeth with a shard of metal thoughtfully. Yeah, I'd heard she took up with that little princess in Dol Amroth. Makes sense, Champion of the Azure Faithful and all. Eh, she earned the title fair and square.'
Finchley smiled happily, 'Aye, she did. She's pretty great... You ever been? It's pretty. Makes me feel like an ant sometimes but the food is amazin'.'
“Heard the forges go on for days in that town and that in Gondor a good weapon is still valued…if I could work there, maybe folk would see they gotta pay respect to get the finest craft…”
Xandilif returned carrying a leather satchel. "Ya don’t get no business old man cause people figure ya gotta be dead...Hell, I figured ya were dead...looking at ya I still think ya might be dead.”
Finchley smiled, 'Hey, Lif! When we get home eventually, I need things to make a really big sign.'
Xandilif dropped the satchel on his stool. "300 gold...count em if ya want assuming ya know numbers that high....and don’t do this bastard no favors, Babygirl. He ain’t got a good reputation where young girls are concerned, as I recall.”
Finchley’s eyes widened a bit. "That's a lot of money."
He picked up the satchel, weighing it in his hand thoughtfully. "No, its all there....and what the devil would I do with young girls now, Banshee, I can barely piss on a good day….but that is just half of my fee for this, Trollmistress. Now do as ya swore...'
Xandilif sighed and drew SilverWand off her back as Finchley watched, looking suddenly quite anxious. Xandilif laid it across the workbench as Alagos pulled on heavy work gloves.
The old man whistled reverently he moved closer to the massive greatsword. “What a sight this thing is...' He carefully touched the blade with a gloved hand."Ain’t been a thing like this made since before Annuminas was even a dream...A blade of the Atanatari....only one I ever seen intact....I seen some later work mimic the lines, or the craft...but this is a true blade of the Edain, from those first days. A blade that faced Morgoth in that first great war...come over from Hildorien with the Three Great Clans of man.
Finchley squeezed Lif's hand and kept a close eye on her. She whispered to the elf, "Is he okay?"
Xandilif whispered back. "Yeah, he used to get like this when I showed it to him...just smile and nod and hope he don’t drop his pants or something.
Finchley snorted. "He's not gonna drop his pants... but are YOU okay?"
Lif tilted her head. 'Yeah...I just can’t take all his oohing and ahhing seriously...'
Finchley frowned, 'No, I meant... since it's not on you.'
Xandilif bristled slightly."It's close enough...I'm fine babygirl, stop worryin’ about me.
Finchley nodded and squeezed her hand again, still looking slightly anxious.
Alagos finally stepped back. "That's enough...it's startin’ to make my ears ring. What a monster that is.'
Finchley went a bit pale when he said it like that but Xandilif just took SilverWand and secured it on her back again.
The old man pulled his gloves off and took something wrapped in suede from under his workbench. "I added the last touches you sent me a few days back...
Finchley shuffled her foot on the ground and then stood on her tip toes as if she could peek at it that way.
The old man slowly, dramatically unwrapped the suede to reveal a sword, a bit shorter than a long sword but graceful and delicately made. The hilt was reminiscent of SilverWand…long, with a curved guard and a blue gem in the hilt. The blade itself was razor sharp, gleaming a bright, silverish gray. “Every ounce a steel in her from Old Numenor. The remains of near a score blades was recrafted to make her...fast, deadly, light as air. Nothin’ short of Durin's Bane will so much as nick this beauty..and maybe not even that.”
Finchley blinked and looked over the weapon with awe. "Wow... Lif, it's a mini SilverWand."
Xandilif nodded, glancing at some odd script engraved into the blade near the hilt. "Good...that'll do.
Alagos looked at Finch expectantly. "Well...ain’t ya gonna see how she feels, young mistress?'
Finchley blinked and then pointed at herself, raising a brow in question. "Me?”
Alagos nodded, 'I could change the balance a bit if need be..or change the hilt...this is aged rawhide for a soft grip, but could use other material...got some trollskin here abouts...or wyvern pelt.'
Xandilif nodded to her. "You...it's yours Babygirl. Crafted just for you.
Finchley stared at Lif, dumb founded. "Mine?" She then pointed to the sword. "This hero’s sword that you paid more gold for than I've ever seen in my life for and let Alagos touch SilverWand for is mine?"
Xandilif just nodded. "You earned it...you came through fire and damnation.
Finchley smacked herself in the forehead. "I dunno if an evil sorceress failin' to burn me to a crisp counts as earnin' anythin' but..." She glanced at the sword and smiled softly. "Okay." Very carefully, as one does when handling something expensive, she reached out to take up the sword by its hilt, just like Eduwiges had showed her and strengthened her arm for.
The sword felt almost weightless, like and extension of your arm. As she lifted it, the blade seemed to practically leap forward. When she swung it lightly, the blade cut through the air with a soft singing sound, ringing like a bell.'
Alagos nodded, satisfied. "There are dummies over there ya can try her out on. Straw ones, not Rangers. But not too many mind, they get expensive.'
Finchley smiled brightly and sounded a little choked up. "What's she called? Or what should I call her?"
Alagos smiled. “That was the last touch the Trollmistress wrote ta me...there on the blade, ya see the words?'
Finchley tilted her head instead of tilting the blade to read the words.
'Ya likely can’t make heads nor tails of it...” the old man snorted. “That there is the black speech patois, as writ in Angmar'
Finchley furrowed her brows a bit and looked between Lif and Alagos. "... What's it say then?"
Alagos traced the words with one gnarled finger. 'It reads as what Xandilif told me ta call the blade...."Averill's Name"'
Finchley sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly, stunned. "Oh..." She smiled though now tears stream down her cheeks unchecked. "And it's really for me?"
The Banshee nodded, 'All yours...and yours alone, Babygirl, forged just for you.'
Finchley set the blade down carefully and launched herself at Lif, wrapping her arms around her. "Aw, Lif, I thought I was done with the cryin'... Thank you!"
Xandilif hugged her, much to Alagos’ amazement. "I told ya you would come through all that, babygirl.
Finchley eventually released Xandilif, still wiping at her eyes and then turned to Alagos, arms outstretched. It was too late for him. There is no escape.
The old man hugged her, only groping her a little. "Lords aren’t you a poppet...'
Finchley did not squish poor Alagos so that she didn’t accidentally crack a rib or anything. She even diplomatically ignored his wandering hand. She pulled away and laughed a bit wetly, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. Taking up the sword again, she looked it up and down with wonder. "It's so pretty... I'll take the best care of it I promise. Even though I know nothin' about swords as fancy as this."
Alagos laughed..."A sword is a sword, girlie...and there ain’t nuthin you can ta damage this one.'
Finchley nodded, 'Aye, but it's a sword made by one of the best smiths in all the world and it's got my...my mother's name on it and everythin' so no one can ever forget it now. Not even those that are in Angmar... Thank you, both."
The old man looked at Lif and winked. "Oh you should keep this one Trollmistress..she talks pretty.... unlike you.'
Finchley smiled, 'I'm gonna make that advertisin' sign really really big.'
Lif helped the girl belt on her new scabbard, 'Now we gotta find you enough food so ya don’t starve while we hunt your blue girlfriend'
Finchley carefully held her sword to her chest, then sheathed it and poked Lif in the side. "She's /not/ my girlfriend!"
The elf just smirked, 'Mmmhmmm..you say that now'
Finchley snorted in indignation, 'Just cause she saved my life doesn't mean she likes me like that. Remember I told you she yelled at me a bit first?'
Xandilif crossed her arms. 'Mmhmm..I rest my case. She saved your butt, then yelled at ya about it and kicked ya out of her house…and now you're bringing her flowers. Sounds like a girlfriend ta me.”
Finchley decided she was losing this argument and changed the subject, springing off towards the camp proper. 'Right! Food!'
Alagos looked seriously at Lif, watching the girl depart. “Trollmistress, that little slip of a girl really means ta find Gwindeth? Keep her safe….ya know what happens when mortals mettle in such things, sword or no sword.”
Xandilif sighed. “Yeah…nothing good.
