Return to the North [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Realizations

A/N: I've put a lot of thought into the relationship between Halion and Tinneth. Much debate went into giving them a physical relationship but in the end that won out.

Now - Moria

Aderthon wasn't tired.

That's a lie, he thought to himself.

Aderthon was tired, but he couldn't sleep. Everyone around him was in peaceful slumber, but he was not. There several things on his mind, but all revolved a sister of his. On the one hand there was Fëalas. On the other, there was Tinneth.

Fëalas, the loving, loyal, and joyful woman she was, now lay on a medical cot, her wound slowly healing. The dwarves had better medicine than Eldarion had had access to on the road. It seemed to be helping.

Aderthon stood from his cot, not even bothering to slip into socks or shoes. The stone was cold on his bare feet, but smooth. It felt good. He walked quietly over to his sister's bed and sat beside her on the floor after gazing into her gentle face.

She didn't seem to be in any pain. Aderthon thanked the Valar for that. He wondered if she'd have better luck walking in the coming day. If they weren't in such a rush, Aderthon might have asked Lord Durin if the company could've stayed a few days to let her wound heal completely.

The dwarven healers said that one of her muscles had been torn, which was why she was having so much trouble with movement and pressure.

Maybe we can get a cart, he mused. I could help pull it.

Aderthon stood from his sister's bedside and leaned over, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He loved his kin deeply, all of them. Like Tinneth, he had a fire deep inside him stronger than most. His emotions were always powerful. But he had learned to control them. Tinneth had not.

I dearly hope she has not become involved with this Red Hand, he said to himself as he walked away from the group to stare at the wall.

"Can we help you, sir?" a dwarven healer asked him quietly, coming over to him.

Aderthon was startled. He hadn't noticed the ever watchful dwarf in the corner.

He shook his head. "No thank you, good sir. I just have much on my mind."

The dwarf nodded, his white beard bouncing up and down before walking away. "I understand."

Aderthon wondered if he did. Had any of this dwarf's kin ever gone and betrayed the free peoples of Middle Earth.

Quit that kind of talk, he scolded himself.None of that is certain yet!

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Aderthon spun around and found himself staring at Eldarion and Elboron. Aderthon let out a tired sigh.

"I feel I need to be caught up to speed," Elboron said, cocking an eyebrow.

Aderthon and Eldarion went through what they knew of the Red Hand of Sauron. They explained how he had a fascination and fixation with the Fëanorian blood line.

"I have discovered more of this man's story," Aderthon revealed after they had caught Elboron up to speed. "The final passage of the book said this: The Red Hand of this age, the one Saruman speaks of, is the great grandson of Queen Beruthiel of Gondor."

"How is that possible?" Elboron asked in surprise. "She had no kin."

"None recorded by Gondor. But Saruman speaks of marriage to an enslaved elf after she was sent back to the Black Numenoreans in order to 'further purify and strengthen' their bloodline." Aderthon shrugged. "That is all he found out. Or all he wrote on the subject."

"I am further convinced this Red Hand is the man who stole the Palantír from Annuminas." Eldarion sighed deeply. "We must be careful, Queen Beruthiel, that curséd woman, she was a menace for Gondor. Her spies and secret allies caused much grief for our people when she reigned. Perhaps her great-grandson has inherited his ancestor's affinity for sorcery as well."

"The book does seem to imply that," Aderthon reminded them.

Suddenly, after many moments of silence, Elboron spoke quietly, eyes downcast in fear and sadness and foreboding.

"Traitor. Twin blades in the night," he recalled slowly from their conversation with Durin. "You think this Red Hand got to Tinneth."

Aderthon slammed his eyes shut as silent tears filled them. They were tears of anger and fear, tears of sadness and helplessness. He hated not knowing what was going on, not being able to do anything. He felt Elboron place a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"It is likely," murmured Eldarion.

Now - Angmar

Tinneth pressed herself closer to Halion as they lay in bed together. Morning was drawing near and she didn't want to get up.

"Aradheleth," whispered Halion to her, using the name he had given her. Royal Terror, it meant. "How do you still smell of lilac?"

Tinneth sighed but sat up. Halion sat up alongside her and kissed her bare neck. Tinneth smirked and looked at him.

"We need to get up," she reminded the half-elf, half-black numenorean man. "Remember?"

Halion chuckled but stood and got dressed. He pulled on a loose white shirt and black pants. His boots, also black, were slipped on next. Meanwhile, Tinneth pulled on her grey tunic and black pants. They had work to do today.

"Before we see to the training," Halion smiled, "I have something to show you."

Taking her hand, Halion led Tinneth up a flight of spiral stairs he had previously forbidden her from entering. At the top was a locked, iron door. With a spell, Halion pushed it open easily. Inside, Tinneth saw wonders.

"Is that the Palantír?" She gasped audibly as she saw it. "From Annuminas?"

"Indeed," Halion nodded. "That is just one of the treasures I have gathered here."

He drew out a box from inside a chest and opened it with another spell. Tinneth gazed inside the gold and red wooden box and gasped.

Dozens of golden, mithril, and silver rings lay there. Some had jewels, others were bare. He smiled at her reaction.

"Each of these had a different power. I have collected them for over a hundred years, as did my predecessor before me," Halion explained. "My former master, Sauron, had us collect rings of power to see if they were the Master Ring. Of course, I never found it. Not that I would've given it to that maniacal Maia if I had. He wasn't able to see the danger coming. I knew they would try to destroy it. That fool!"

Tinneth smiled and drew him closer. "Carnimendo, I name you. Red Doom. For truly you will bring destruction to the Dunédain and to Gondor."

He grabbed her and kissed her harshly. "Together, Aradheleth, together."