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The Forgotten Ring	By : Sienna Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 4872 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Legal Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.

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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn

Setting for the Story:

The story begins with the prologue, set in Valinor, some five hundred odd years after the end of the 4th Age, where a young elf is learning the stories of her people. The War of the Ring has been over for at least 3,000 years. It is important to not skip the Oracle as set forth in the "Ring of Thror" which is found in the prologue for a vague familiarity with it will help the reader follow the storyline as it progresses.

As the story opens, we are taken back to the Battle of the Hornburg when the mighty Valar intercede at the death of one too many heroes in order to set many wrongs right.

But there is one hidden threat out of many and the Valar's hands are tied for all is the will of Illuvatar.

This is a story about a New Middle Earth, the shadow that threatens it yet again, the hope that is waiting to be discovered and a love that may fall by the way.

NB: I have borrowed from both the book and the movie, thus this is an AU of sorts. However, Tolkien hinted at the "Second Music" of Illuvatar and explained that at the end of the World, the Ainur would make an even greater Music with the Children of Illuvatar. Thus, I have taken this promised Second Song and extended it to "what if"? I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did in creating it!

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Prologue - In Valinor - 512 years after the end of the Fourth Age

An Ancient Oracle:

"The Ring of Thror"

"On a dusty plain, whereabouts unknown,
'Neath storm clouds under a paling sun,
High atop a Moon Beast rides He whom I call of old,
"Beast of Ld",d", eyes sparkling clear and gold.

He-Who-Rides has no name or memory past.
Beast He rides knows that memories sweet do last.
Before they came, Beasts rested under countless stars
'Till He-Who-Rides took beasts for endless wars.

When wars renewed the ancient hate,
then Beasts and He who rides them sealed their fate.
Was then lost the ancient stone
and ripped from its heart's true home.

And so again, on a dusty plain, where ghosts do roam,
And stars turn ever 'neath a paling sun.
Came He where Ryders cannot run,
And where death time did shun!

One ring lost must now be found
deep within the ancient mound.
Four were made but only three given
in secret forged and in secret shriven.

When time and sand reveal the secret held,
That gold and silver bring an ancient meld.
When the night reveals the Song of Old,
Then will the Beasts come with Ryders bold.

Till that time the secret sleeps beneath the sands,
"Neath silent stars and ancient lands;
Who can know what is found?
Who will ride the Beast unbound?"

Author Unknown. From the Chronicles of Thror, King Under the Mountain, Third Age year 2682
"And that is that." intoned Belteled, closing the heavy book and sighing. Drawing deeply from his mallowood pipe, he sat back and watched the smoke lifting in delicate spirals. The book sat on his lap.

"But, Uncle! What came of the Ryders? When did they call on the Beasts? And what is meant by another ring? And where is the Ring of Thror?" Eridani's chocolate brown eyes, wide with delight, burrowed deeply into the older man's face. Belteled shifted uncomfortably. He knew this would lead to other things. Why couldn't the child just for once listen to a story and drift into sleep, just like her brothers and sisters? Not Eridani. She'd pepper a person with countless questions: what ifs; and how comes; why not's and whose-what's its. He smiled fondly at the dark-haired child.

"Eridani," be began with a patient tone, "not all stories have an explanation, or a meaning. Some stories don't even have an end." He puffed on his pipe and grinned at the child's stare.

"But, Uncle, how can that be? How can a story not have an end? If it has a beginning, there must be an end!" Eridani's child's mind could not grasp this possibility. A story with no end? Why, she thought as she cocked her head at the slender figure before her, it would be like a winter with no snow.

"That is impossible, Uncle! That cannot be!!" exclaimed the child. Although her mind refused to accept this possibility, the mystery of a story with no end delighted her sense of the ridiculous. Actually, she found it funny.

"But it is entirely possible, my dear one. The Oracle of the Ring of Thror was told 336 years before the War of the Ring and way before your time." He smiled fondly at the child. "Some stories simply have no end, my dear child. And it happens more often than we know; more often than the Blessed Elbereth knows." He sighed and puffed on his pipe. Ah, blessed Elbereth. How long has it been? Countless ages, has it not? And what did the Shining Lady say once, "none now remain that remember it was so." Some did, he thought. Some did.

He turned his attention to the child. Pulling the warm woolen blanket aside, the child slid inside its soft folds, "There are many stories, dear niece, that have not yet had an ending." He straightened and looked into the wide brown eyes that stared with utter fascination into his own clear blue ones. "Indeed, some say that there are stories that may never end, for their telling has been forgotten, and with it, its ending. In such cases then a story never truly ends." He leaned and gently kissed the child's dark curls.

"Sleep well and be at peace, my young one, for perchance a story's end may come to you."

Her mind in doubt, but her body clamoring for rest, Eridani closed her eyes, wondering if this was yet the beginning of one of Uncle's strange stories. She hoped so. She hoped he'd tell it before her mother and father came back to take her home. She hoped so, but right now she wanted to sleep.

Soon she was asleep and Uncle sat by a frosty window, still puffing on his pipe, remembering, and fixing names with faces and dates to places. She had been wrong, the Lady of Light. Some did remain who remembered. Some yet waited in endless sleep, to finish the story that once, long ago had begun.

Belteled sat further back in his comfortable and worn leather chair. A chill touched his back and his gaze wandered to the icy window. Outside it had begun to snow.

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Key:

Thror - King Under the Mountain: Of Durin's House, was King Under the Mountain and of Durin's House (Dwarves).

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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
NC17
Haldir/OFC romance/adventure

[To be continued...] Feedback appreciated! ...:)

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The Forgotten Ring