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The Hand of Eternity

(Being a Trilogy of the Events of the Fourth Age of Middle Earth)

 

 

Volume One

 

�Father of Time�

 

 

 

by Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

� 2008

 

 (A Work in Progress) 

 

Prologue

 

 

Glaurung awoke.  Mordor had fallen.  He sensed it in his blood � his spirit.  He sensed it, and knew it to be true.  Morgoth would not be pleased.  In his tenure in the pit below, dark creatures who had been chained near him from time to time had spoken of Mordor, Sauron and the final battle.  Yet they had not known its fate.  Yet, now he knew.  Now he sensed in the air, in the realm of spirit, the fate of Mordor and Sauron.

 

At the top of the crag, overlooking the pit of torment, Glaurung stared downwards into the pit of the netherworld � the place he had just finally escaped from, after being cast down by the Valar.  Morgoth, still, dwelt there � his final resting place according to the judgement of the Valar.  Morgoth, greeting Glaurung after having just shattered the Door of the Night and being judged by the Valar and condemned to the netherword, still lay somewere in the pit below, searching for escape.  Yet, when they had parted just the evening before, each taking a differing direction to what was believed would be sanctuary, Glaurung knew � the dragon of darkness knew � that Morgoth would soon escape as well.

 

He sat there, staring downwards.  He sat there, and as days passed to weeks, feeding occasionally, he stared down into the pit, carefully awaiting the lord of the dark he knew would arise.  Time passed slowly.  Carrion surveyed him from time to time, assessing wether he was actually alive and available food.  Occasionally he threatened them, and they soon departed.  Other birdlife hovered around the edge of the pit.  Eagles, hawks, sparrows, owls and various others.  It seemed each of them had come to witness for themselves the emergence of Glaurung and, perhaps, the soon emergence of the dread Morgoth from the pit of despair.

 

He thought on the Valar who, having passed judgement, had cast them into the pit, never to return.  In his dark heart, Glaurung would have vengeance upon them, and all in league with them.  They would be punished, nay, destroyed.  And he would feast on their very souls.

 

Yes, the Valar would feel his wrath, and, of course, so would any of the other seed or Turin who yet lived.  Turin had slain him with the dreaded sword Gurthang above the ravine Cabed-en-Aras of the river Taeglin.  The scar from that wounding still ran across his belly, even in the netheworld were their Valar judges had sent them.

 

As time passed with no sight of his dark lord, Glaurung thought on the tale Morgoth had shared with him in the pit below.  For too long � for far too long � Morgoth had been cast to the outer void.  Yet Morgoth had finally escaped that place, defeating the Door of Night. 

 

In the void, Morgoth had brooded and the darkness � the power of the dark � had grown within him.  Eru, the creator, had been there, talking to Morgoth from time to time.  Talking to his son and sharing destiny and prophecy.  Dagor Dagorath awaited, Eru told him often.  The final battle.  The final defeat of the shadow of doom.  And in that battle, so Eru chided him, Morgoth would taste final and bitter defeat at the hands of Turin and the sword Gurthang.  And to fulfil that prophecy Eru gave Melkor dark power.  Power of evil and hatred beyond what he had known in earlier days.

And, when his power had grown sufficient, Melkor had spoken the word �Nothingness� to the Door of Night, and through the power of infinite dark, the nothing placed within Melkor by Eru, the Door had ceased to be, the only way that it could be overcome.

 

And, now, destiny awaited.  Morgoth hated Eru, yet knew he was powerless against him.  He suffered the fate Eru planned for him, regardless of his own choice.  His fate beckoned him onwards each moment � it beckoned him onwards for, in his mind and heart, he sensed that beyond the realm of death, should it occur at the hands of Turin, there awaited something.  Something which Eru had only whispered and hinted at.  Something which Eru had only placed subtley into his evil mind and heart.  Yet Morgoth knew � at one point in the whisperings of Eru he knew � that beyond his service to the fate of death, something awaited.  Something new, something different awaited.  And on that, despising the very word, yet on that hope Morgoth placed his faith.

 

When the Door of Night had been shattered, and Morgoth had re-entered Arda, the Valar had been there.  They had caught Morgoth, naming him Melkor, and Tulkas had condemned him to the fate of the pit of the netherworld, were the dead spirits of darkness lay.  He had been cast down by the Valar, down into the deepest, darkest and most hate-filled pit.  He had been cast down to were Glaurung lay chained, having now grown wings.

 

He had been chained next to Glaurung, with the impenetrable chains of Angainor forged by the Vala Aul�.  He had been chained there and, left with little else to do, spoke with Glaurung and shared his story.  And he had plotted.  He had plotted and told Glaurung, once they were free, what he would plan on doing, of the vengeance that would belong to him.

 

And the darkness within Melkor � the darkness had continued to grow.  And, in time, the chains had been shattered.  He then shattered Glaurung�s own chains, and they began their journey upwards � a journey of a million steps.

 

And then they had parted, sensing they were near the surface, to see if either could find the quickest way out and tell the other.  Glaurung had found freedom first, and now waited his dark lord, his dark master.  He knew it was inevitable, that Melkor would find freedom.  He knew that.  And as he sat and waited, Glaurung thought on the vengeance that would soon be his.

 

Sleeping in the early cold of the morning, Glaurung was wakened by a noise.  He looked down into the pit in the early dawn light, and there, accompanied by three Balrog�s, Melkor was climbing up to him.  He watched him, and after the half of an hour had passed, his master stood before him.

 

Melkor motioned to the three Balrog�s.  �They are former servants, Glaurung.  They will come in useful.�

�Yes master.  And now?�  Morgoth climbed up onto the back of Glaurung and bid him take to the skies.  As Glaurung began his flight upwards, Melkor finally responded to his query.  �And now destiny awaits.�

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

�The Fellowship Anew�

 

In truth, new life � new beginnings � are sometimes not that easy to adjust to.  Legolas, sitting next to Gimli, observing Samwise Gamgee in conversation with Frodo, contemplated what had become their new life and new beginning.

 

They had been a fellowship once, all those years ago in middle earth, and then they had each gone to the far west of the grey havens, and then beyond.

 

And now, in their new home of Tarador, Tarador on what had become known as the �Emerald Isle� of �Eire�, they had tasted the water of life, the elixir of the Valar, which kept them everlasting like the sun.  They had been granted this for their service in the war of the ring at the end of the third age.  Tulkas had granted them the elixir, from the pool of eternity in Tarador, and they had drunk deeply.

 

And now, four centuries later, they were again in the prime of life, the elixir having fully restored them.

 

�And this quest of yours Gimli, to see home again.  When shall you be departing?�

�Dwarves are unpredictable creatures, my elven friend.  Who can say when a Dwarf will make up his mind for certain on a matter.�

�Unpredictable you say.  How so, valiant dwarf?�

�Yes valiant dwarf, how so?�  Gimli and Legolas turned to the familiar voice that had spoken, finding it to be indeed the one they had hoped for.  �Gandalf,� said Legolas.  �You have returned.�  �Apparently like the unpredictable dwarves, the return of one of the Istari can never be quite fathomed.  But yes, Legolas, to answer your question, I have returned.  And is that Frodo and Samwise Gamgee I see approaching.�  Frodo and Sam, who had noticed the appearance of the ancient wizard, had wandered up from the fountain they had been sitting by, and greeted their old friend.  �Hail Gandalf,� said Frodo.  �You�ve returned then,� said Samwise.  �Yes, I have returned master Gamgee.  And it is good to see you all looking so well, and in fine spirits as well.  This past century must have been good to you.�  �It has been that long, hasn�t it,� said Frodo.  �A hundred years since you left us.�  �Yes indeed Frodo.  As I told you all on my departure, there were still things that needed to be looked to in middle earth.  And I have much news of that to share with you over these next few weeks.  But first, were is Bilbo?  Is he nearby?�  Frodo looked at Samwise, a little hesitant to speak of Bilbo.  �Bilbo is with Elrond, Gandalf.  He left near a quarter of a century ago.�  Gandalf had a look of concern on his ancient demeanour.  �With Elrond?  Why has he left his home?�  Samwise blurted it out.  �He wants to be wizard.  Like you, master Gandalf.�  Gandalf looked at Samwise and Frodo.  He turned to Legolas.  �Is this true?  Bilbo is attempting to learn the ways of magic?�  Legolas nodded.  �I am afraid so, Gandalf.  It started when your Istari brother, Radagast, returned.  Bilbo grew fascinated with the stories Radagast shared of his time in middle earth, and when Radagast and Elrond departed for Valinor with Morwen, Bilbo had convinced Radagast to let him accompany him and to teach him the ways of magic.�

Gandalf nodded.  �That is a tale.  The funny thing is I was with Radagast early this year in eastern Mordor and he made no mention of such a thing.  Perhaps it slipped his notice.�

�I dare say it did,� commented Frodo.

�What were you doing in eastern Mordor?� asked Samwise.  �I would have thought you would have tried to forget that forsaken land.�

�Samwise Gamgee!  How good it is too see you,� said Gandalf, sitting down on the stone steps of one of the gardens of Tarador.  �I was in Mordor discussing things with two very close friends of mine, Samwise.  The Blue Wizards they are known as.  Fellow Istari.  They go by the name of Alatar and Pallando.�

�Blue wizards?� queried Sam.  �How many of the Istari are they�re anyway, master Gandalf.�

�That is an interesting question Samwise,� said Frodo.  �I don�t think Gandalf has ever answered that question.�

�The ways of Eru Illuvatar are often beyond knowing, Frodo.  And, likewise, we of the Istari, who are of the Maiar, servants of the Valar, have ways also beyond the knowing of mere mortals.�

�Yet, now we are no longer mere mortals, Gandalf,� said Frodo softly.

�Aye lad,� said Gimli.  �That we are no longer.�

�Indeed,� said Gandalf, placing his hand of affection on Gimli�s shoulder.  �And, I suppose as you now partake of immortality through the elixir of life, that you should now be privy to the ways of eternity?�

�Perhaps such knowledge is now appropriate, Gandalf,� said Legolas.  �They are no longer youths � no longer children.  Perhaps, as such, they should likewise share in some of the mysteries of Arda.�

�A fair comment, Legolas,� said Gandalf.  �Very well, then.  I will speak of things ancient.  You know me as Gandalf, yet that is a name given to me by men.  It means Wand Elf, of all things.�

�Elf?� queried Samwise.

�I was once mistaken as such.  Yet I am not Elf, nor human.  This form you see before you was chosen.  It was chosen for the task we of the Istari were given � the nurturing of the children of Eru Illuvatar.  The Istari are five in number.  Saruman was the head of our order, dressed in white.  I myself was Gandalf the Grey, now in white.  Radagast, who you have met, is Radagast the brown, third in seniority.  And, finally, Alatar and Pallando, the blue wizards.  Those two are equal in rank in our order of the White Council.�

�You said five in number, master Gandalf.  Don�t you mean four, now that Saruman is dead.�  said Samwise.

�No, Samwise.  There were, and still are, five of the Istari.  While Saruman did die a mortal death, from there he returned to the Timeless Halls of Heaven, and saw once more the face of Eru Illuvatar.�

�And how do you know this? Asked Frodo.

�Because I told him,� said a familiar voice, just then making itself known.

The fellowship turned to see a wizard, dressed in grey, with an all to familiar face.

�Saruman!� exclaimed Legolas, reaching for his sword.

�Be at peace, Legolas,� said Gandalf, calming him.  �While this is indeed Saruman, he is no longer what � no longer who - he was.  He is redeemed and he is once again among the Istari.  And now he is Saruman the Grey.�

�Saruman the Grey!� exclaimed Frodo to himself.

�And you trust him!�, exclaimed Samwise.

�Master Samwise,� began Saruman.  �When one has been lectured to by Eru Illuvatar himself, one begins to remember the purpose his life serves.  I am no longer who I was.  No longer of the power of darkness.�

Samwise looked at Saruman.  �God lectured you?�

�Yes, God,� Saruman said to himself.  �The westron word they now use about Eru.  But to answer your question, yes master Samwise, God lectured me.  He makes himself known to all the Valar and Maiar.  It is from him we have come to be.  It is from Eru Illuvatar that life begins.  And, so, when I received a correction to my former thinking, a new life, as it were, began.  I once again rekindled my love for and passion for middle earth and its people, and Eru entrusted to me once more my position amongst the Istari, now as Saruman the Grey, under Master Gandalf.�

�Why would Eru trust him, Gandalf.  After all he did?�

�Samwise, I know you are not the most trusting of souls.�

�With good reason,� said Samwise, eyeing Saruman.

�Yet all of us � from the greatest to the least � deserve a second chance.  Would you not agree.�

�Come on Samwise.  Saruman is now our friend.� said Frodo, nodding in the direction of Saruman, who nodded likewise in response.

�Your friend, Frodo.  I will never trust him.�

�Be that as it may, master Gamgee, Saruman is now a friend of ours.  Isn�t that right Gandalf?� said Gimli.

�Indeed that is true,� responded Gandalf.

�Tell us.  How fairs Arwen at Rivendell?� asked Legolas.

�I am afraid, since Aragorn�s passing, she is still in mourning.  She promises me that, in the course of due time, she will rejoin the land of the living, as she has so elegantly stated.  Yet, for now, she dresses in black and mourns her lost love.  Yet, I sense, her mourning is near complete.  She has finally accepted that Aragorn was a man, and she an immortal elf.  And that the life of love between them, which indeed was true love, was and could only be fleeting, as the snows of winter likewise melting with the onset of spring.�

 

Saruman spoke up.  �The affairs of the heart, as my brother would put it, are dark and hidden at times, often never showing their true selves.  Arwen�s love for Aragorn, though, was plain to all.  Even I at Isengard knew of this love.  Her heart though, as all do, will mend.  It will heal and come, one day, to the brightness of a new day dawning and realize that new life inevitably draws one onwards, as dawn moves onwards to a brand new day.  She may never forget Aragorn, yet her spirit will move inevitably and inexorably forwards.  She is elven.  She is of the blood of immortality.�

�Well said, Saruman,� said Gandalf.

Samwise looked at Saruman and, somewhat consoled, nodded softly.

 

Frodo spoke up.  �What news of the Shire?  How fares life in Hobbiton?�  Gandalf smiled.  �My dear Frodo, as much as life in the past age had its comings and goings, rarely familiar with the ways of Hobbits and the Shire, Hobbiton stands much the same.  And upon my last visit, Bag End was again being occupied.  By one certain young female hobbit by the name of �Jando Baggins�.

�Jando Baggins!� exclaimed Frodo.  �Bag End is still in Baggins ownership?�  �Indeed it is, Frodo my friend.  I spoke with her of you and Bilbo.  I did not mention your being still alive, but did not quite deny that either, and I feel with some of the things I had said and some of her queries, she may have gained suspicion.  We had a wonderful evening with her father, tracing Baggins ancestory and finding yourself and Bilbo amongst their ancestory.  She is something of a neice of yours it would seem.  A fiery, redheaded Baggins.  A handful even on a good day.�

Frodo smiled, ever so pleased to learn Bag End was still in Baggins ownership, and curious about his new �neice� Jando.

�Yes, I see Jando in you,� said Saruman.  �Really, quite a strong resemblance.  And the same passion for life, it would seem.�

Frodo smiled, ever so pleased at news of new blood in the Baggins clan.

 

�And the Gamgee�s?� asked Samwise.  Gandalf turned to Sam and placed his ancient hands upon Sam�s shoulders.  �I believe, Samwise, if I have it correct, you are now a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.�

�How many greats was that Gandalf?  I lost count,� bemoaned Samwise.

�Too many, it would seem, for you dear Samwise.  Suffice to say you are a father yet again.  Meriadoc Gamgee was the latest addition to your household upon my parting from the shire.  A young wee lad, barely eighteen.�

�Meriadoc?� queried Frodo.

�Yes Meriadoc,� replied Gandalf.  �I can only hope that the foolishness of �Merry Brandybuck� does not run in his veins.  But no, forgive me.  Merry was dear to me, as to all of us, and his passing his missed.�

The fellowship paused for a moment, reflecting on one now gone from them, along with the beloved Peregrin Took.

�Really, my friends,� began Gandalf, �life in middle earth comes and goes much as you have always known it too.  The kingdoms of men are currently at peace, a much needed peace, and little it seems would disturb our pleasant slumber.  Little yet, perhaps, not nothing.�

�You would speak of the rumbling�s,� queried Saruman to Gandalf.  �Are you sure they should yet know.�

�It is best, often, too air things when hearts are affected, Saruman.  And I think that this fellowship of ours, having grown strong from past battles and adventures, can warrant news such as we have.�

�What news?� asked Frodo, whose curiousity had been aroused.

�Yes, tell us Gandalf,� said Legolas, a comment echoed by the others present.

 

Gandalf stood and walked over to the fountain, looking down into the pool were goldfish were swimming around.  He turned, looked at Saruman, and looked up at the heavens.  The news he had was rumour � and perhaps just that; nothing but rumour.  Yet, if true � if indeed true � then the lives of the fellowship would soon be set on a course of action.  An inevitable and unalterable course of action.  He took an apple out of his vast cloak, from a hidden pocket, and took a bite.  He savoured the freshness, just picked in a garden of Tarador, and looked at the fellowship.  He would now speak of things he himself feared.

 

�Rumour has it, friends, of an ancient enemy having returned to Arda.  An ancient enemy, surpassing the might of even Sauron.�

Frodo and Samwise looked at Gandalf, a look of concern on their faces, yet neither spoke.  Eventually Legolas spoke up.

�There is, Gandalf, only one greater in might than Sauron.  And he is gone, lost in the great void.  He can not return.�

�Legolas, I can only wish that that were true.  Yet, it would seem in the mysteries of prophecy, that the ancient oracle of Mandos, once known as Namo of the Valar, judge of the dead, the oracle of �Dagor Dagorath� may now, in the eternal wisdom of Eru Illuvatar, be, dare I say it, coming to pass.

Legolas looked at Gandalf, and turned away.  He remembered, then, that prophecy taught him in youth, knowing the fate of the world and the final great battle.

�What is Dagor Dagorath, Gandalf?� asked Frodo.

�Perhaps I can answer that,� began Saruman.

Mandos, or Namo as he was once known as, is of the Valar.  Yet he does not reside here in Tarador, choosing to remain in Valinor.  He uttered, and never by his own cognition, the oracle of Dagor Dagorath.

According to the prophecy our ancient enemy, Morgoth will discover how to break the Door of Night, and will destroy the Sun and the Moon.  Out of love for the sun and moon, E�rendil will return from the sky and shall meet Tulkas, Fionw�, and T�rin Turambar on the plains of Valinor. Supposedly, all the Free Peoples of Middle-earth will participate in this final battle, Elves, Men and Dwarves alike.

There the forces of the Valar shall fight against Morgoth, or Melkor as he is known, who will have resurrected many of his old followers, including our dread enemy Sauron. Tulkas will wrestle with him, but it will be by the hand of T�rin that finally death and destruction will be dealt to Melkor. T�rin will run his black sword Gurthang  through Melkor's heart, thus avenging the Children of H�rin. Then the Pel�ri Mountains will be levelled, the three Silmarils will be recovered from the Earth, sea, and sky, and F�anor's spirit shall be released from the halls of Mandos to give them to Yavanna, who will break them and rekindle the light of the Two Trees. The battle will end and renew Arda's existence: all the Elves shall awake and the Powers will be young again. Also, according to Dwarven legends, they will help their maker Aul� recreate Arda in all its glory again.

Following this, there will be a Second Music of the Ainur. This song will sing into being a new world. Men will sing it with the Ainur. It is unknown what the fate of the old races, or of the old world, will be in the new one, as Mandos did not say. Even the Ainur do not know anything of the second world or the Second Music. All the Ainur know is that the Second Music will be greater than the First Music.

Strangely, Mando uttered two of such prophecies, each with slightly differing detail, which suggests numerous possibilities.  In the original prophecy Mando wrote that none of the dooms he had declared showed whether the Marring of Arda would ever be repaired.  Whereas the Second Prophecy explicitly states that the Elves and Valar shall be renewed after Dagor Dagorath and that the fate of Men is unknown.  Supposedly Men will participate in singing the Second Music, and that it is the fate of the Elves that is unknown, and nothing is said of the fate of the Valar.

Yet, there is also another prophecy made by Andreth the wise-woman of the folk of Haleth about another "Last Battle", the War of Wrath, which would be the end of the Elder Days. In this prophecy T�rin is to be the destroyer of Ancalagon instead of E�rendil.

The language of the Folk of Haleth has not been used for centuries now, for they have perished and should not rise again. Nor will their tongue be heard again, unless the prophecy of Andreth the Wise-woman should prove true, that T�rin in the Last Battle should return from the Dead, and before he left the Circles of the World for ever should challenge the Great Dragon of Morgoth, Ancalagon the Black, and deal him the death-stroke.

In the words of Andreth, the Wise-woman of the House of B�or: T�rin will 'return from the Dead' before his final departure, and his last deed within the Circles of the World will be the slaying of the Great Dragon, Ancalagon the Black. Andreth prophesies of the Last Battle at the end of the Elder Days�

The fellowship, thinking on the words of Saruman, contemplated the great day of Dagor Dagorath.

 

Frodo, having made the connection in his mind about the rumours of an ancient evil having returned, spoke up.

�Morgoth has returned.  They are the rumours, aren�t they.�

�I am afraid so, Frodo,� responded Gandalf.

�Did I hear correctly that Sauron will be resurrected?  I thought we were rid of him for good,� said Sam.

�Yes, that is the prophecy.  Sauron, and many other servants of Morgoth, will re-awaken, to partake in the final battle.  To show the final wrath of the Hand of Doom,� responded Saruman.

 

�Again with a war to end an age.� Stated Gimli, a slight tone of sarcasm apparent to all.

�Yes, Gimli.  It would appear this battle is to end the fourth age.  I dare say little else could.�

�And beyond that,� asked Frodo.

�A time, perhaps, my hobbit friend, in which the ways of the Istari may gradually be less and less called after.  There are other tales, traditions as it were, connected to Mandos prophesy, which speak of a new emerging world.  A world much less like this current one and dominated, in the main, by the children of men.  A world in which hobbits, dwarves and elves are spoken of in myth and legend.  A world in which the children of men have emerged as the final great victors.�

Samwise looked concerned.  �If that happens Gandalf, what will happen to the Hobbits.�

�I feel, master Samwise, that perhaps only Eru Illuvatar himself could answer you that question.  But, in speculation, they will have withdrawn from the world, in the main.  Withdrawn into lost and hidden cities, away from the new world of men.  Alongside them the elves and dwarves will remain hidden as, supposedly in the most ancient prophecy shared with the Istari, the children of Men and their great King, the chosen one, rule middle earth.�

�Great King?� queried Legolas?

�The anointed one, Legolas.  The one upon which Eru Illuvatar will place his spirit � his essence.  The one hidden from us for the ages, to be revealed in the last days � in the times of the last things.�

�We elves know nothing of such a prophecy.� Stated Legolas flatly.

�Nor would you, began Saruman.  It is of the domain of the Valar and Maiar, and of them alone.  It is shared rarely at that, and with only the chosen few who will show responsibility with such information.  And, from Gandalf�s judgement, it appears you are among the chosen.�

 

�And this age of men.  Will it last forever?  Will elves return to middle earth?� asked Legolas earnestly.

Gandalf looked at him, understanding his natural concerns.  �There is much in the ancient prophecy, yet much not remembered, as it was forbidden to be recorded, but to live on only in memory.  Yet, there is a figure.  A figure in opposition to the anointed one.  An opponent � an adversary.  A power, greater in darkness and might than even Morgoth himself.�

�And who is this power? asked Frodo.

Gandalf looked at Saruman.  �That power is the power that tempts us to evil, even still to this day as we are tempted.  It goes by many names.  Ha Satan.  The Devil.  The fallen one.  It comes from the realm of the anointed one, hidden from us � a realm created, it would seem, parallel to our abode in the timeless halls.  Yet, its spirit lurks even here, and would one day conquer and destroy us also, if it were to prevail.  It is at the end of the age of men that the fallen one will take part in the final battle with the anointed one.  And, if the elves are to return to middle earth, it is perhaps beyond then, a time we know nothing of, that middle earth will call them home once again.�

Legolas nodded, seemingly satisfied at that answer.

 

Samwise stroked his head, his head full of news.  �So much to take in, Gandalf.  This Morgoth, who you named Melkor.  I have heard the Valar speak of him from time to time.  Who is he exactly?�

�It is best you sit Samwise, for I shall speak at length.