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Title: Solitary Mortal (#1304)
Author: Thoronsil
Chapters: 4

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Archive: Tolkien
Category: The Silmarillion
Description: He has lost everything he ever knew, his father and all whom he held dear was lost to the hands of the enemy, now a solitary outlaw solely challenging the darkness Morgoth has wrought fearing niether death nor pain. The tale of Beren son of Barahir and his depature from dorthonion to the time he wandered into the forest of doriath and his meeting with the fair Luthien.
Published: 07 Oct 2004
Updated: 12 Oct 2004
Warnings: battle sequences, emotional drama
Type: Drama
Characters: Beren, Luthien


Chapter 1 - The shroud of Dorthonion

“Solitary Mortal”
Author: Thoronsil
Characters: Beren, Luthien
Setting: Dorthonion, Gorgoroth, Doriath
Description: He has lost everything he ever knew, his father and all whom he held dear was lost to the hands of the enemy,
now a solitary outlaw solely challenging the darkness Morgoth has wrought fearing niether death nor pain.

The tale of Beren son of Barahir and his depature from dorthonion,
before he wandered into the forest of doriath and his meeting with the fair Luthien.

Author Note: this is my second story, please Review and any comments are welcome. Bless you always!

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A howl in the rough Dorthonion wind swept past the night as Beren son of Barahir slowly moved in the darkness,
the ground shook for the earth betrayed those who dare take up allegiance to morgoth,
a lone wolf he was now and not the prince of men he once was.

The footsteps drew nearer as the fog drew thick and one by one the unsuspecting party of orcs where slaughtered.
One by one hewed down to raw flesh as they where trapped by both fear and the shroud of war that enveloped the woods.

The darkness proved useful for the stealthy lord to whom all beast are friends of old, The battle only lasted in a few heartbeats and
it was finally won, though vigilance was not to lack for the enemy would strike sooner and harder.
The shroud now lay on the once proud lands of Dorthonion and Beren son of Barahir now stands alone fearing not death but captivity.
He remains a challenge to the darkness that Morgoth wrought.

As he journeyed to where he lay hid a sense of sadness dampened his spirit for long has he suffered fear and doubt
but denied it for his soul remains steadfast and strong though frail and mortal he may be.

He slowly came upon a pool near a clearing, he scouted the surround before deciding to wash himself.
Taking of his tunic, leggings, shirt and finding a suitable place to keep them he then took his sword for fear that the enemy may strike
and he be caught unaware, vigilance still is the key to survival in this perilious times.
Placing a sword in near the pond, he carefully slid himself in the water as he washed all the blood, the blood of those he had slain…
“Foul beast… They deserve death” he hissed as he scrubbed his now roughened skin of the grime from the recent battle,
cursing under his breath he took a final plunge before forcing his worn-out tunic above his shift and strapped the sword belt upon his waist.

He ventured more as he found a suitable place to rest, taking out his sword he decided to sharpen it
for fear that he may not have the time to do so for the enemy has gazed upon the land he inhabits,
a pack of orcs he can handle but the enemy has more deadly devices in his service that a solitary mortal can yet face.

“One more strike and doom may lay upon me” he thought to himself as he surveyed the starless night,
a tear slowly rolled from his cheek as he remembered the day when all was lost,
his father slain and the sole hour when he was enstranged from all who venture outside the realm he inhabited.

A part of himself seems to accept a doom that was difficult to understand for the other half seemed to have another purpose,
a purpose unrevealed to him that remains obsure to his thoughts.

He then lay quiet as he drank what water he could from the aged water skin he carried.
He then moved trying to settle into a position which would give him comfort before he drifted to sleep.
His sleep seemed untroubled though in it was a dream that brought a warning that his heart will hold till his time ends.

~o~

He woke when a howl of a wolf was heard, since then he was uneasy for what he anticipated in his mind was far more horrifying
than what was about to come and for that he stood vigilant. He heard the rustling leaves from above the tree that loomed as shade to him,
He quickly determined where the noise came from and his eyes tried to pierce the lush vegetation that has now covered the once tame forest.
Fear rose in his heart as he anticipated what was about to come, his hand now grasping the hilt of his sword as he readied himself for the worst.
Then the moment of truth, a stifled a groan as his eyes remained in the are where the sound came from...

The leaves rustled more until there came a loud screech, "Black bird" he said to himself as he sneered at the bird as he jumped from the tree
to the soft damp earth, he then splashed his face with water from a nearby pond before he started move and made haste to the east
of the woods where he sensed something amist, a sleepless malice...A shroud of darkness.

He hurried down the trail then he stopped, looking around and trying to survey the dark surrounding when an arrow flew overhead and
struck a tree as the arrow head imbedded itself to the trees trunk, Beren drew his sword as another went past him.
He then got down to the soft earth as a pack of orcs rummaged throught the are, he said a silent but ardent prayer before revealing himself to
the enemy as he made the first stoke against the leader of this foul creatures.

His attack was not as stealthy as the previous for his first stroke was blocked but anger filled his eyes as wrath burned a a flame in his heart.
The second strike decapitated the wretched orc leader as dark blood scattered everywhere, the other orcs seeing their fallen leader were
enraged and so charged the waiting human. Each fell to the waiting blade of the solitary outlaw as the encounter ended in just moments.
The battle was swift for as the blade of beren sang so did the rustling leaves began for a dance was woven that spoke death to all who stood against the son of man.

Wiping the beads of sweat and blood, beren let out a faint smile but his heart's joyous state was replaced with anxiety as he saw things in the
darkness that filled the once serene ground. He then dashed away from view as he made haste away from the now filing ranks of orcs, werewolves
and vile creatures that were the work of none other than the Dark Lord himself.

Winter was nearing as the season gradually changed, again it would be cold and apart from the cold would be a much desolate state for Morgoth has sent his deadliest servants for one purpose... To serve his head in a silver platter to the enraged ainur, it would only be a matter of time before Dorthonion would fall...


Chapter 2 - The winter's chill

The first fall of winter has come and the land which was once green and good has now been desecrated by darkness that has covered the land.
There was no beauty left, no comfort in the heart of the woods of the once great Dorthonion for it is now a desolated wilderness the few would choose to venture.
The Beasts of the Field and the Birds of the air has now deserted their once proud home for food was scarce if there was infact any.

A lone shadow loomed over the treacherous ice in search for comfort in this frozen wasteland but to no avail, hunger and anxiety has made an alchemy
of despair that you would see in the once proud face of the Lord of men, a hunter he was until he became the prey that was still being hunted.
No rest for Beren son of Barahir as he looked in the mound where the remains of his father was laid, a tear of sadness rolled down his cheek from
eyes that shown a deep reservoir of feeling. He knelt down as he cleared the stone marking of his father's grave as he said his farewell...

A farewell, a lament to the land that he dimmed home...Farewell to all that was good and true for he dimmed it right to leave for something
in his heart told him to do so, a question remained though true the counsels of his heart are for he wished death might take him but it seems
as though more shall he play in this nightmare that started as a dream.

Looking up to the heavens, he opened his mouth as he gasped the cold air, his throat was parched due to lack of water. His eyes
then searched the sky as tears filled his eyes once more before he cried to Eru, a desparate cry for mercy...

"Eru, why hast abandon me...Is my heart not true and shall not my soul be free? Shall I ever run from those who pursue me, the wicked who
threaten me? Curse the day I was born into this world for doomed was my spirit ever to wander and hide! I fell not my hands nor my body for
the cold fill thee, the flame that I once cherished is gone from a heart who long suffereth pain and misery, fear has drove thee and thy purpose
forgotten. Hast not any regard for thine creation whom you so willed to live? shall we always suffer..." lamenting to his life, crying out to all who heed
for hope seemed lost and life...Disregarded. "Forsake me not blessed Eru as I leave this land to which my father died protecting, forsake not
your servant and strength be renewed...Sustain me, may thy grace protect me." after saying this he left the mound of his father with a heavy
heart, feeling like one who seeks a star in a night dimmed by ethereal darkness.

~o~

Holding the hilt of his sword, the smoothened handle cold to his hand as he warily journeyed south. His way was treacherous yet he hoped that he may not face any in battle for he so feared that he may be outnumbered and so be led into captivity, the one thing that he feared for being
at the mercy of one who has shown none seems hopeless. Hope is the only thing left that kept him alive, kept him breathing and fighting.

The land was silent, silent as though a strange pestilence has enveloped the air within. Beren tirelessly trekked the land without cease for fear of being discovered, leaving all that was not necessary he travelled swift and light. He dare not take any of the remaining fruits of the trees for
the land is was poisoned for the land has shown it, the trees waned and the vegetation withered and so did everything else.

"They were wise... Perhaps wiser than me..." he thought to himself as he remebered the last of the animals that left this lush forest as though they felt the winds change. Though the air seemed strangely dull during that time he never paid any heed to it until the earth seemed rather rough, the lush vegetation withered like a lone reed in a gushing river that was swept by the tide, bitter the water was to the taste as everything else seemed to fade.
Late did he realize that time was against him for as the forest died so did his chances of survival for the enemy drew near and he was the prey, orcs he could battle but werewolves were another thing especially now for Sauron, the deadliest servant of Morgoth led the hunt for him. Holding back this storm was a thing that no mortal man can do for it surely spelled one'e doom.

Rushing to the glade, hoping to fly unnoticed he slipped through the shadow of the great trees as he tried to once more look at his surroundings dare he not be caught by surprise... His eyes lurked, Keeping his gasp for air as mute as possible..."Was he alone? or was he followed? "this questions he asked himself though he answered not. He did not linger anymore than two heart beats thus rushing through the forest, "it was near, it was close..." as he rushed through the final column of trees that signalled the end of the narrow trails of Dorthonion.

He made it through for as the road began to rise so did it leave the arms of the forest "Farewell Dorthonion" he spoke in a silent tone as he moved stealthily and swift away from the place he had once called home. As breeze lingered in the air the sun had set and it's rays hit the steep and sharp rocks of the land that seemed undisturbed, a labyrinth of razor sharp rock that went for miles and miles... This was the path that no one dare tread for ancient was it's devilry, terror unspoken lay asleep in the vast nets of malice. A long breath he took before climbing to the high regions of Ered Gorgoroth. This was the path laid before him and so this he shall take for though thoughts darkened in his mind his courage failed him not for renewed strength within him, rekindled hope and spirit.


Chapter 3 - Ered Gorgoroth

The ranges of the mountain of terror spread far to the horizon, it's sheer precipice frown unrelentlessly to any who face it. Dare not any soul brave this treacherous pass for long would one wonder among the labyrinth of razor sharp rock and secrets better left untold inhabited the terrible ranges.
The wind blew though comfort it did not bring for whispers of voices speaking a nameless fear swept through the mountain pass.

Lone was he, great son of the Edain as he tread the rocky surface of the cursed mountain ranges. The terrain was impassable to those who's strength waned easily but for those who remained strong at heart with will undying shall pass and if so accept death let not to turn back to whence they came.
So was the son of Barahir who fled and found himself in here, a vast wilderness of great expanse with shadows lurking in his midst. Fear would take his heart but falter he could not for a sense of purpose burned fervently in his heart though wounded by so great a tragedy.

He felt his heart give in and his legs weakened, no rest would he allow himself but it seemed that his strength waned and so he scouted through the nearest convergence of rock for a place to rest his weary soul and by grace or strange fortune did he find what he seeked, a small sturdy cave that did not proceed to expand, just enough for him to be sheltered from the elements and any attack that might come his way.

That night he fell into a deep sleep though it was not untroubled, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword as his chest rose each time he took the air in, His body tense and restless. The night grew older as beren slept but earth seemed to warn the mortal, his eyes opened as he was greeted by the pitch black darkness of the said night, he crawled to the entrace of small cave as his eyes remained enstranged to the darkness for this was indeed a moonless night and to venture further seemed difficult. Standing up slowly as his eyes slowly grown accustomed to the darkness, he warily listened to his surroundings.
The silence was indeed deafening, the moon did not shine and the stars were veiled. A sleepless malice seemed to linger through the night's shade.
Beren sensing that no being neither friend nor foe seemed to roam the cursed path slowly made his way to the rocky path, he dare not risk a small torch for fear of being detected, thus moving only with his senses he was gropping in the dark, stumbling frequently and risking small bruises to his tired body he resumed his quest to the rising passage that seemed to grow fouler and dangerous every step he took.

~o~

Strangely fortunate was Beren for it seemed that Elbereth heard his need and has not forsaken him for in the midst of the sky were a group of stars that shined distinctly, It illuminated the rocky labyrinth with a faint glow that was enough for one to know his path. A solemn prayer of gratefulness he offered to Elbereth to who's mercy did he depend as he made his way through the mountain pass.

A small smile escaped his worn face as he reached the beginning of the path through the top of the mountain though as he approached the said pass he did not expect what his eyes saw with the faint light of the stars, the smile faded only to be replaced by so much horror as he saw things that sent shivers through his spine. The light illuminated intricate webs that seemed suspended in the vast expanse of rock and stone, suspended in them where the victims of this monstrous creatures who devoured them whole and fed on their flesh. These were offspring of Ungoliant, the monstrous spider who destroyed the Trees of the Blessed Realm. Fear crept into the heart of Beren for a harsh cold swept through his body like a harsh blow that left you breathless, evil seemed closer now and doubt filled his heart as questions came to his mind.
"Shall I flee to be slaughtered in a land foreign to me?" this question lingered in his head as fear and doubt swayed what courage was left in his soul.
His body seemed to turn back but his soul held firm, he stood for moments there as one does before taking a deep plunge. Emotion whirled on him like a swirl of truth plunged deep into his soul, he was out of thoughts as he felt a numb, like a thousand needles antagonizing every inch of your body.

Taking a deep breath, He ventured into the pit as he unsheathed his sword and walked warily in the rocky labyrinth. He would stop at times as he waded his hand in the air, feeling through the emptiness if there is a trap laid before him. He soul was restless as every second seemed a lifeage to him, his throat was parched as he remembered the last drink he had for days near. The dew of the morning tasted somewhat bitter but his thirst was great that he cared not what it tasted like. He looked around once more, hoping that all remained still and quiet... He smiled gratefully though it seemed too quiet, the unnerving silence meant something as the smile again vanished, he listened intently to his surrounding but he heard nothing.

Anxiety filled the weary mortal as he stood there quietly planning his next move, his shoulders tensed as he heard something moving... He heard it again but from a different direction, again he heard one after another as the fearful sound seemed to come from all directions. He did not wait, nor did he linger in where he stood for he legs carried him with much haste as he seeked higher ground. He heard the rumbling movement from behind yet he did not look back, he hastened up the hill as the ferocious eight legged terrors tried to outrun the mortal but Beren quickly swiped his sword to the unwary creature thus slowing the beast down. He found the spot that was suitable enough, the glow of Elbereth's stars seemed to outline the rock that stood high as he made it to the rising slope of the chosen rock quickly facing the path to which his enemies where hastening. He spoke a silent prayer before his blade sang at the defense of his life as countless enemies swarmed to the Lord of the Edain, hewing one after the other Beren stood his ground as more foes came. The vile offspring of Ungoliant wouldn't let the son of Barahir last the night.


Chapter 4 - Along came the spiders

The night was aging quickly as the son of Edain fought for dear life, he has been pushed away from the grounds of his choosing and it seemed like he was fighting a hopeless battle, a battle that would claim his life for sure. Losing strength and weariness taking over, his soul was tired and losing the will to fight. His sword sang as it hewed the monstrous beings making a wall of corpse that filled the air with a dreadful fume that made it difficult to breath. He was losing ground, he felt the air enclosed as the wall of corpse surrounded Beren yet he continued his desperate struggle for survival, a fight to the death. He felt a cold fear that took whatever courage was left in his heart as the enclosure darkened around him, this is what he feared...He was trapped, being buried alive inside the the pile of corpses that has formed a wall to block his steps. He felt weak in the knees as he faltered slightly..."Is this the end?" he said to himself as he kneeled and touched the ground the was damp with his own blood and the blood of the vile creatures he had slaughtered, he crumbled as he closed his eyes. He was accepting death as it is but a voice he heard in his head, a voice that rang as clear as sliver trumpets that echoed in eternity's embrace "fade you must not son of Barahir...". He woke from his dream like state as he stood with a resolve so true.

He looked at his surround as one thought came to his head, he was breaking through the wall of the poisoned flesh that held him captive in their midst. He stood in silence as he pondered on his plan, taking a deep breath and thrusting his body forward he used all his weight to break through the wall of corpse. Plunging through the now breaking lines of the enemy, he took each spider by surprise. He hewed and killed all he could as he climed with haste to higher ground, he felt his body frail and weak but his hope remained as the light from the horizon spread from the east greeting him with a slight flare, the fiery rays of Anor swept through the darkened skies of the gloom that Ered Gorgoroth had.

Hope was indeed rekindled as he reached for the final hedges to reach to highest peak he could find. His eyes swept through the hell he went through as his face enjoyed the warmth of the rising sun, his fear was extinguished as he stood his last stance, his sword shined like a spike of pearl as the rays of Anor hit the blade. He braced as the monstrous creatures reached Beren, His sword moved with the grace of the wind as he hewed all who wrought battle with him, his blade went smoothly through the vile flesh of the enemy. He prayed for he was losing strength as he bleed with wounds that seemed to weaken his frail body. As though a swift answer was given, the flame of Anor burned fervently as it rose in the sky, it's brightness illuminated all that stood. The rays of the sun proved terrible for those of vile ascent as it spread through the skies, the monstrous being seeing what was to come squirmed down as each fell down rushing back to the dark chasm from whence they came.

A great day for the sun did shine, as he stood planted to the ground watching his enemies retreating back into the darkness that the flame of Anor did not touch. He then dropped his sword to the rocky path as he stumbled from hos once great stance, wound has marred his flesh upon the arm as the poison seemed to spread throuch his body... Taking a small knife from his side he quickly cut the wound as not to let poison spread through the whole arm, he then tore a part of his shirt and quickly bandaged the wound as a small sigh escaped his dry lips.

He lay there for time uncounted as he drifted into a deep sleep that renewed his strength, his body to fight the poison of the vile offspring of ungoliant. He woke well past midday as he struggled to get up, carrying his weight as he stood.Picking up his sword he then looked to the path that he must take as his eyes played on the darkened road, It would be a very long journey by foot and the peril seems to grow with each step.
He slowly breathed one more time enjoying the sunlight in his face before making haste down the rocky slope of Ered Gorgoroth taking a plunge once more a darkness unfortold.

~o~

Night and day he traveled through the step paths, Beren seemed to pass easier through the darknening path as the sun which illuminated the peak of the terrible ranges seemed to lose it's fervor as he went deeper through the steep path of the mountain, the shadow of Ered Gorgoroth once agin looming over the lone traveller as he made his descent. He relied now on stealth rather than strength of arms for he knows that he cannot repel the enemy anymore for he was weak, his frail body almost giving in to the shadow that dampend his spirit. Slowly now did he descend as darkness grew and his surrounds a place of uncertainty, the lone mortal moved stealthily than before for he did not want to awaken anymore surprises nor did he want to face any.

He moved from one rock to the next as he allowed himself to be shielded from view by the sharp rocks that embedded the the ground, he observed his surrounding with a sense of unrest as he moved. He warily took each step as though ready to lay still on the ground for he would not suffer another encounter, atleast not until he has recovered from his injury that has weakened him thoroughly.

A sight astounded the eyes of Beren as he slowly passed what seemed as though the border for the darkness seemed to shroud the land he was nearing, The dark essence seemed to creep back to the house of his very soul. Darkness met more darkness as the light seem to wane, he took a deep breath before plunging through the midst of the darkened path his eye beheld.

A gloom had now spread into his soul as lies he heard in whispers in the harshness of the passing wind, spectres he seemed to see as the deciet of the land flowed forth. The horror of the battle he had with the offspring of ungoliant was nothing to the coldness he felt here as though his very soul wanted to flee from a nightmare in his wake, the blood in his veins seem stolen away as uncertainty filled his resolve in such a dark hour.
The air seemed old, filled with a memory dark and treacherous. The land was dark, it's soil desecrated and filled with death for no living thing would prosper nor would it live in such a harsh environment. Only some unknown fire kept him standing from losing all hope and giving in to despair, the slope seemed to end but it's surround was a darkened valley long bereft of light. He no longer cared to what fate instored for him for he was one who seemed now to wander aimlessly as one without soul, "I march to my end" he said to himself as he went through the mist the covered whatever shadow the land seemed to possess. Keeping his hand near the hilt of his sword he kept on, he felt watched but his senses did not percieve anything of his surround. He kept on pressing through this valley that he found the entrance to the twisted darkness of Nan Dungortheb, where the power of Sauron and Melian the Maia clashed.
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