Solitary Mortal

“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...