Isildur

'Anarion was not frivolous,' said Gil-galad confidently. 'I had many talks with him and he thought deeply and took his responsibilities very seriously. It was his manner that was so different from Isildur's, not his character. He was a fine prince and would have been a great king.'

'I know that, and Isildur does too, I'm sure. But Isildur was always so serious about everything. His face was ever grim.'

'Your family has been through enough to turn anyone grim. The bitterness of the civil conflict in Numenor, where your own king exiled you to Andunie. And then of course the Fall.'

'But Anarion went through it all as well — those terrifying last days, the towers toppling, the waves, the storm, the shipwreck.' Elendil paused, remembering again those terrible times. 'Of course, he was younger — still in his tweens. The young are more resilient to misfortune, don't you think? But Isildur was serious even as a boy. He had to excel at everything, could not stand to be beaten. He took every competition as a challenge. He always had to be the strongest, fastest, most heroic.'

'But he is hero. He may even be all those things. Many acknowledge him the greatest warrior in the army. And his character, too. He is noble as well as strong. His idealism and his resolve are almost frightening. Do you know he has pledged to throw the Barad-dur stone by stone into the abyss?'

Elendil had to smile. 'Aye. And I think he will do it, too. But not Sauron. Him I will throw down myself, with this blade.' And he slapped at the hilt of the ornate sword hanging at his side.

Gil-galad nodded. 'Aye, Narsil was forged for just such a task, though Sauron has outlived its maker by many a yen. Poor Telchar died in the the fall of Nargothrond and never knew that Morgoth the Enemy was even then in his death throes. Telchar would be well pleased if you slew Sauron with his blade.'

'Such is my dearest wish,' answered Elendil grimly, 'for he has much to answer for.' He eyes strayed to the map unrolled upon the table, to the multiple ridges that made up the range known as Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow.

'But for now,' he continued, 'I would be content with word of Isildur and his companions. Let no harm come to them, for if they fail there is but little hope for the rest of us.'

Gil-galad nodded. 'If the Three be taken from them, there will be no more hope forever.'

'I know we had little choice,' said Elendil, 'but still I lie awake at night wondering if we have done the right thing. To send the Three against the Nine — it seems such a desperate chance.'

'It is indeed, and yet still I hope for success. The Great Rings of Power are not equals; each is unlike the others. The Nine and the Seven were always lesser than the Three, and they were made with Sauron's arts. His powers are mighty, but they are drawn from the well of evil, and it is my belief that evil can never finally triumph over good. The Three are unsullied; they derive their powers from that of the White Tree and The Golden, expressed through Celebrimbor's art.'

'Such things surpass my understanding,' said Elendil with a shake of his head. What is it like to wield the Rings?' he asked. 'How do you activate its powers?'

Gil-galad considered. 'It is difficult to describe, my friend. Long have I kept Vilya, and it is like no other object on Earth. I am always aware of it when it is near. Even after being away from it all these years, still it is often on my mind, wondering if it is safe. It preys on my thoughts, drawing them always to it. It is almost as if it were alive.'

'Alive? But is it not only metal and stone after all?'

'It is metal and stone, to be sure. But it is more. I do not mean that it is truly alive, not as we know life. It is certainly not conscious. But it seems to have a will, a course that it would pursue if it can. What that will is, I do not know, save that it must be good. After a time, I believe, a Ring and its bearer come to share a bond. There is no doubt that we are changed by them. More so when we use them, but even by their mere possession. Each of the Three seems to have a will and a character all its own, so that over time the bearers themselves take on some of their nature.

'Narya is the Ring of Fire, and it has great strength both to build and to destroy. It excels in bold, physical changes. With it Cirdan has built a mighty city at Mithlond, and some say that the beauty and perfection of form of his swanships is due at least in part to Narya. Cirdan too is strong and bold, unafraid, eager to move forward. Perhaps this too is Narya's influence.

'Nenya, the Ring of Water, has long been Galadriel's charge. It promotes life and growth. Things touched by its power thrive and endure and do not fade. With its powers, the Lady has built Lothlorien, the Land of the Golden Wood, where the leaves never fall and winter never comes. Galadriel too, thrives and endures, for she yet looks very young and lovely, though she is nearly as old as I. She takes joy in living and growing things, in gardens and trees and fair bowers. But is it Nenya or Galadriel that changed to become so alike, or was it both? We do not know.

'Vilya, the Ring of Air, is acknowledged to be the mightiest of the Three, and yet its power is not revealed by great works of either the mason or the gardener. Like the air, it moves swiftly and powerfully, yet invisibly. It is said to give wisdom and judgement in leadership to its bearer, though if that be true, I wish I could be more certain of my decisions. Still, since I have possessed it I have risen from Feanor's lieutenant to High King of all the Noldor. I do not believe I ever consciously wished to become king, yet here I am. Did I wish it without knowing it, or was it Vilya's wish? How could we ever distinguish?'

'It seems a perilous thing,' said Elendil, 'to bear an object that might be bearing you.'

Gil-galad smiled. 'It certainly makes one consider one's actions and motives, and even accomplishments. Still, I would not part with Vilya for my life. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, to leave it at home. It haunts my dreams every night.'

'Will Elrond be able to wield Vilya to advantage?'

'I hope so. He too is wise and learned, and his heart is good to the core. If any other Eldar can bear Vilya safely, it is he. Still, I wish I were there.'

'As do I, but we must be visible here, lest Sauron perceive our absence and suspect the attack on the Nine. And do you truly think the Three are stronger than the Nine?'

'No one knows. They have never been put to the test. But I believe so. If the Three are wielded in concert, they should be able to withstand the Nine, for each is complement to each, and their combined strength is more than their sum. Galadriel and Cirdan are both great mages and learned in the oldest arts. They have long borne their Rings and their knowledge and their courage will guide them all. At the very least, the Three will appear to Sauron as a threat to his power and a temptation to his greed. His sole motive is ever greater power, and the Three represent the greatest powers remaining in Middle-earth. Whatever the outcome of the battle at Minas Ithil, Sauron will come forth, I am sure of it.'

Gil-galad crossed the tent and took a long spear with an ebony handle from a rack. Its head was in the shape of a leaf of the Golden Tree, with edges so razor sharp they shone blue in the light.

'And then he must reckon with this,' he said grimly, running his hands over the shaft. 'Aeglos was made to taste Sauron's blood, and it shall yet do so, I swear it. Well does he know this weapon and fear it, for it is doomed to be Sauron's Bane.'

Elendil patted the hilt of the great sword at his side. 'And if Snowpoint does not slay him, my Narsil will, for it too is charmed to bring him down.'

Gil-galad looked to the open tent flap. 'Is it morning yet, Elendil? It is still dark and grey without, and yet surely the sun must be up by now.'

'She is up, Sire, but gives little light through the murk. The haze and fumes are much thicker than usual this morning, and a noxious bitter dust is sifting down from the low clouds. Orodruin is unquiet.'

'And so too is its lord, I wager,' replied Gil-galad, 'for I notice that the volcano oft reflects Sauron's mood. It has many times trembled and smoked just before a major attack by his forces. He is linked to the subterranean powers of the earth ever since he forged the One in the Sammath Naur within the mountain itself. Perhaps he even controls Orodruin's eruptions, though how I cannot guess.'

'Then perhaps this unrest indicates that he even now senses a disturbance in the west, a changing, a moving, in the borders of his realm.'

'Perhaps. If so, let him fret a while. It will make him more rash in the end. I would have him come out in fear and anxiety, his troops all disordered and confused. I assume ours all stand at the highest readiness?'

'Aye. Every one is awake and watchful. The barricades and forces at the road to the west have been quadrupled.'