Éomer invited Mithrandir to speak first. He unfolded his tall frame slowly from where he had been sitting beside Aragorn to address those present. ‘There were five of my order, sent by the Valar to Middle-earth to keep watch and ensure that evil did not rise again in the shadows. Two, Alatar and Pallando, came before myself, Curumo, whom you know better as Saruman, and Aiwendil here,’ he said, indicating Radagast. ‘They were known as the Blue Wizards and they were the greatest of friends, inseparable, as they had been in Aman. They went to the eastern and southern lands of Middle-earth and for a long while were largely successful in their mission to curb the evil influence of the enemy. We later arrivals of our Order had little to do with them. All our knowledge of what happened to them has come from another source. One who is here and whom I must now ask to tell of the tale.’
Éomer and Gimli followed the eyes of those others present. They were all turned to Lothíriel, who was resting in Finglor’s arms. She roused herself to speak.
‘I will tell it on his behalf, but only if I am allowed to use his real name,’ she said steadily.
Finglor’s arms tightened around her as he whispered ‘No!’ in her ear.
She moved her head round to look at him, and she whispered back, ‘I have faced my past today, Maglor. It’s time you did so too.’ He bowed his head and kept it bowed throughout the telling of the history of the Prophecy of Alatariel. ?
‘Most of you know of Maglor, son of Fëanor, thought lost to the world, but for those who do not, this is he. It is not a name he wishes to be known by as his past causes him too much grief and shame. But I believe his deeds of sacrifice and love in the thousands of years since he caste the Silmaril into the sea go far in redressing the transgressions of his past and I will call him by his real name from now on.’
All but the wizard, Galadriel, Elrond and Aragorn had reacted in shock at the revelation of Finglor’s identity. It explained the sense of hostility Lady Galadriel displayed around him that all the others had noted. Although he was her first cousin, her family had suffered most grievously at the hands of the sons of Fëanor in their quest to regain the Silmarils. She, it seemed, had not yet forgiven.
Lothíriel continued. ‘There is much I still do not know of his tale but that relating to the Prophecy I do now know in full, and I will only tell of this.’
First taking Maglor’s deformed, scarred hand in her own and kissing it lovingly, she stood to address the gathering, leaving him seated impassively on the floor.
‘When Maglor caste the Silmaril into the sea, he had called out to Ulmo to take it, and him with it, expecting Ulmo to take him to join his brother Maedhros in the Halls of Waiting to await judgement. He knew he was not deserving of anything other than the worst of punishments and he accepted whatever fate was mandated. But Ulmo refused, telling him that he did not believe the evil of the enemy had been fully vanquished, and therefore Maglor did not deserve such an early release to his fate. Maglor acknowledged Ulmo’s words and took an oath to undertake whatever task Ulmo required of him, not to waste his skills in the Halls of Waiting but use what remained of his life in service to the cause against the enemy. There were those of Morgoth’s lieutenants Ulmo did not trust, Sauron foremost among them and Ulmo decreed he would only be released from his oath a year after Sauron’s fall, unless death took him earlier.
His deeds before the coming of Alatariel are not for this tale but when his beloved nephew, Celebrimbor, was first persuaded by Sauron in disguise to forge the Rings of Power, he was sent by Ulmo to warn his nephew of the danger. He stayed in Eregion to help where he could. However, when his real identity became known to the High King of the Elves, Gil-galad and his kin, who understandably could not find it in themselves to forgive the fell deeds of his past so easily, they banished him from the northern realms during the War of the Last Alliance and he could thereby play no further part in that War. It was then Ulmo sent him to the aid of the Blue Wizards. He served them for many centuries and into the Third Age, becoming close to them both, learning even greater skills as a hunter and healer.’
Lothíriel looked around her at the spellbound faces, her sorrow at what she was about to reveal to them evident on her face.
‘The tragedy of this tale is that the seeds of the catastrophe which descended around the same time on both Gondor and the Blue Wizards lay in love,’ she said dolefully, ‘the love of the Gondorian prince and heir to the Kingdom, Valacar, for the Rhovanion princess, Vidumavi, which led to the Kin-strife…’ Lothíriel hesitated before revealing what none there knew except Maglor and Elrond, ‘and the love of the Blue Wizard Alatar for a huntress he rescued from a pack of wargs.’
Mithrandir’s eyebrows raised in surprise; Galadriel emitted a gasp of disbelief, but Lothíriel ploughed on. ‘Who she was, even he never knew, but she was not of Elven kind. An enchantment lay upon her, perhaps set by Sauron himself for it served his purpose well, as it utterly ensnared Alatar. She ran from him as he was destroying the wargs, but he was trapped by his love and he hunted her many leagues, far to the east. When Pallando realised his friend had disappeared, he went with Maglor in search of Alatar, fearing he had been taken by the enemy. A year they searched until they found him, distraught, carrying a newborn child, a girl… his daughter… Alatariel.’ The significance of the Prophecy was beginning to make sense to those who had known of it.
‘There is a reason none of the great pairings between Maia, Elf or Mankind have been male Maia or Elf with a female of the race of Men. Women do not have the strength to survive the birth of the child of such a union. And so it was with Alatar’s wife. Maglor took over the care of the baby and nurtured her to strength and took great joy in her presence, but Pallando seemed to find Alatar’s grief and attention to his daughter challenging in ways Maglor did not understand at first.
A rift developed between the two Wizards over the child, which was incomprehensible to Alatar, and so he ignored the signs of jealousy and resentment the girl was causing in his friend. Maglor, however, was not so unsuspecting of the nature of Pallando’s love for Alatar and he began to fear for the girl’s safety. He tried to make Alatar aware of his fears, but Alatar could not think ill of his best friend and constant companion. He simply did not realise… Pallando was in love with him...’ Lothíriel saw Mithrandir nodding his head as though he too had understood something from the long distant past, ‘…until the day Pallando fixed an arrow in his bow and shot at her aiming to kill.’ Lothíriel paused, allowing the full horror of his madness to sink in.
‘Maglor was holding her in his arms at that moment and turned to take the arrow into his own body to protect her, only Alatar was the quicker. As you may remember, Mithrandir, he had the gift of immediate foresight, the ability to see what is about to happen a few moments before it does. He had run towards his daughter and, to protect her as well as Maglor, he took the full force of the arrow into his chest, the force of which spun him around to face his daughter as his spirit left his body, but unknown to the others, it did not depart. Whatever enchantment had lain upon her mother, whatever bond Alatar had had with his wife, it had not been broken with her death. It had passed on to the child and it was into his daughter that his spirit sought refuge so he could remain with her.
Maglor wasted no time in mourning Alatar, nor witnessing the inevitable and terrible grief of Pallando when he realised what he had done. He ran to their horses with her still in his arms. He took Pallando’s own horse, not wishing to kill the noble stallion, and, followed willingly by the other two mares, Maglor and Alatar’s horses, he rode west as fast and as far as he possibly could. They moved constantly as he tried to protect Alatariel from whatever revenge Pallando might attempt and he brought her up as his own daughter. It seems I remind him of her in my character.’ She smiled wistfully at Maglor. Éomer observed Imrahil’s suddenly taunt face with great empathy. Lothíriel ploughed on.
‘He brought her to the lands of Arnor, which he felt Pallando knew the least well and where he himself had at least one friend.’ Lothíriel’s gaze lighted upon Elrond, who in turn nodded in agreement. ‘And there, the first prophecy was made about the girl. The great Lord Glorfindel was in Rivendell when Maglor brought Alatariel to the lands of the Elves seeking protection for her. The only Elf except Lúthien to have been brought back to life by the Valar, he could see beyond the body of the child and he sensed the continued existence of Alatar within her.
Three intertwining strands he saw in her future. He prophesied that although the girl had been granted a vastly extended life, she was not immortal; Pallando would never cease to hunt down her heirs and destroy them; only a female child born of two royal bloodlines of Elven origin would have the resilience to withstand and use the power of Alatar’s spirit within her and only through her could Alatar’s spirit and his descendants be freed. He advised that she was hidden away with her own kind and not the Elves, into whose protection Pallando would assume she would be sent.
Valacar and his Rhovanion wife were not yet on the throne, but their son Eldacar had been born. He was the same age as Alatariel, and he had just been called to the court of his grandfather in Osgiliath. Alatariel was sent to Gondor with Eldacar to the court of King Romendacil II under the guise of the daughter of a Rhovanion lord, and Glorfindel gave Maglor the task of protecting the bloodline. It was there that she fell in love with and married the son of King Romendacil’s daughter, who had married the Prince of Harondor, a distant cousin and scion of the House of Anarion, and so the bloodline of Alatar entered the Princely family of Harondor in which it has resided ever since.’
Lothíriel indicated that she needed a break from the story to confer with Maglor as the others spoke amongst themselves the import of what they had just heard. After a while she was ready to share what she and she alone had learned.
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She stood again in front of the gathered Elves, Men and Dwarf to relate the most difficult and painful part of her inherited past, one she had only recently seen and re-lived in the memory of those who resided within her.
‘I saw much while I was within the vortex, while we were connected through the sword to the fortress, to the very centre of it where Pallando kept his most precious belongings. I felt Alatar’s presence close to me. He spoke to me. I know what happened to Alatariel and I understand why the House of Harondor came to be persecuted. This I shared with those who held the sword with me and they have asked me to tell you what I saw in detail, so you may understand what I must do next.
Alatariel had four children by her husband, three sons and a daughter. Maglor hid himself in the shadows and watched in despair as the House of Anarion tore itself apart in the Kin-strife. He did what he could to protect her and her children, but he could not be everywhere. Alatariel had insisted that he take the two youngest children far away from the fighting. Most reluctantly, he went with them to live by the shores of Belfalas, not far from what became Dol Amroth, but he had only consented to take the two youngest away on the condition that Alatariel took Alataturë for herself and wore it constantly. Alataturë, a gift for Maglor from his nephew, Celebrimbor, the great mithril armour I wore today for the first time. He had hoped it would save her when he could not.
As a formidable fighter herself, she had insisted on staying with her husband and two eldest sons to defend Osgiliath when it came under attack. But in her desperation to protect at least one of her sons, she went against Maglor’s instruction. As her husband and middle son stayed close to King Eldacar and retreated with him to the western side of the city when their forces were overrun from the east, King Eldacar’s son and heir, Ornendil and her eldest son, Faramir, had without their fathers’ knowledge or consent, been lured to the Dome of Stars to prevent treachery within. Seeing in the distance across the city the unmistakeable glint of Alataturë as Faramir battled his way to the Dome, Alatariel left her husband and second son on the western bank of the Anduin and fought her way through the city to reach the Dome of Stars drawing much upon the spirit of Alatar which lay within her.
When she reached the Dome of Stars, she recognised the Astari among her attackers. She understood then that they were the reason Castamir had enough resources to make his bid for the throne. As she entered the Inner Sanctuary glowing with the light of Alatar, she came upon the Grand Master of the Astari seeking to take the Palantir of Osgiliath for his own. At the moment they caught sight of each other, the two Istari recognised the other in horror. Alatar in horror at what Pallando had become and Pallando that Alatar existed still within his daughter.
There were few survivors to bear testimony of what happened when the Dome of Stars was destroyed, and only one version of the tale was ever told, that of the Grand Master of the Astari, as he then named himself to the world, but his story was a lie and the truth of what happened that day can now be heard.
It was their battle that wrought the devastation that shattered the Dome of Stars and most of the city. Castamir had not intended such destruction in what he had expected to become his capital. Had she been wearing Alataturë, Alatariel may even have defeated Pallando, but she was not. She had suffered too many wounds to her physical body. Despite killing most of the Astari guard, it was only a question of time before she would be taken, either by death or captured by the few remaining Astari.
Death was her choice. Her last remaining hope was that death would be similarly swift for her son. But Alatar’s spirit was not yet willing to depart, having understood during their contest of wills the full extent of Pallando’s betrayal of their mission over the decades since his own corporal ‘death’. Alatar perceived Pallando’s intention, in his arrogance, to use the Master-Stone of Osgiliath to control Sauron who was re-gaining power, hidden from the Elves of Middle-earth but not from the Blue Wizard. He realised he could still thwart Pallando and have a chance of protecting his descendants, now that Pallando had recognised Alatariel as the Princess of Harondor.
Alatariel told her father she was ready to sacrifice herself in whatever way would help her remaining family to survive. As one, Alatariel and her father wrested the Master-Stone from Pallando, an act which did indeed lead to her death. But in that moment when Pallando was distracted by her sacrifice, Alatar’s spirit entered the Palantir unknown to his former friend. And the stone readily accepted one it recognised as beloved of its former master, Maglor.
The Palantir did not fall into the river Anduin as the Dome collapsed around them, as reported to Castamir by Pallando. Taking the stone from Alatariel’s dead hands, he pushed her body into the Anduin, and he stole Maglor’s Palantir back to Sennebar, together with his other prized possession, the armour of Celebrimbor.
It is known that Ornendil was captured, as was Faramir. Both had been overwhelmed not by men but by the power of Pallando, and with a guard of Astari at his command, they had already been cast in chains by the time Alatariel made it to the Dome.
It is a blessing of sorts that Alatariel did not live to see the torture and execution of her eldest son, nor that she had witnessed the deaths of her husband and middle son while they fought in the rear-guard of King Eldacar’s retreat. But her line held firm through the centuries, protected as far as he could by Maglor, despite being hunted down mercilessly by the Astari. It was for this reason the Princes of Harondor and all those of their line had earned Pallando’s undying hatred.’
Lothíriel bowed her head in respect for her ancestress and her sacrifice. She had not been the last to make such a desperate choice. Elrond had told Lothíriel of the bravery and self-sacrifice of her grandmother, Idril. The Astari had tracked her north, and, believing Amahlia to be with her, a large force of Pallando’s elite assassins had attacked her in The Angle, where she had sought refuge with the Dúnedain. Only the skill and, heroism of Eradan and his kin had saved her, but she had sustained wounds from which she never fully recovered and would not live the full lifespan of a Dúnedain. Her heart broken on the news of her daughter’s murder, the grief had proved too much for her weakened body and she had soon followed her in death.
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Lothíriel’s mind came back to those present. She was not going to give them the full details of this story, they did not need to know the whole truth.
‘And so we come to the second prophecy. The Elves among you will understand this most easily as you are the most connected with the pulses of history and time, strands of happenings, whispers of events past and future. There have been those amongst the Elves, and even Men, who are acutely attuned to these invisible waves: the Great Seers. We have two such among us,’ she said bowing to Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond, ‘and one who has not had his gift acknowledged.’ Most there had understood the implication as she bowed her head towards Maglor.
‘Alatariel’s line held firm in the Princely House of Harondor, despite the mark of death Pallando had put upon them, and as her descendants intermingled with the Kings of Gondor and Arnor, Pallando’s enmity grew. It was he, not Sauron, who brought together the alliance of Wainriders, Haradrim and Men of Khand which so devastated the Kingship of Gondor in the Disaster of the Morannon, and it was Pallando’s spies who encouraged the nobles of Gondor to choose Ëarnil II as King over King Ondoher’s rightful heir, Fíriel and her husband King Arvedui of Arthedain. Much might have been averted had Gondor chosen otherwise… but it was not to be.
When Minas Ithil fell to the Witch-king and the Nazgûl, Alatar felt his malice creep into the Ithil stone even before Sauron dared to use it to begin to influence Pallando. Alatar saw much from Maglor’s stone, hidden as he was, and he feared for the children of King Ëarnil II. It is often forgotten is it not that Ëarnur, last King of Gondor before you, Aragorn, had a much younger sister, Ëarwen, who married her second cousin, the Prince of Harondor and it is through their union that Alatariel’s line persisted.’
Lothíriel gave Maglor a sad smile and continued. ‘Prophecies are rarely exact; they are the interpretations of those with the gift to feel the flow of time. Trapped in the Palantir held deep within Sennebar, heavily protected by the power of Pallando’s magic, Alatar retreated far into the unknown depths of the Palantir. His spirit almost became lost in the vastness of that hidden world. Yet he sent pulses of thought to the two remaining Palantíri of Gondor, that which resided in Minas Tirith, as Minas Anor had been renamed, and that lying forgotten in Orthanc.
Perhaps it was because he still had a connection with his Palantir, but Maglor began to feel the strands of Alatar’s warning, and visions came to him. He saw into the future where those strands from the past and the present led. He saw the two Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor divided, both without a King, the crown of Gondor placed on the dead King’s tomb. He also foresaw when Isildur’s heir and Alatariel’s heir were born on the same day and time, one in the North and one in the South, twins under the stars, that they and their heirs would come together to reunite the two Kingdoms. He saw a girl child born in the North under the rays of Eluvedan, her destiny to be bound to a Prince of Gondor. He saw the Mearas galloping towards him, so close he thought they would run through him. Night after night, these visions came to him, all jumbled together, seemingly incoherent. At first he tried to ignore them, but deep down he felt it was Alatar trying to reach him. He could sense the truth and the power of his visions, and he recognised them as both a warning and a prophecy.
Then the Mearas came for him. Of all the beasts on Middle-earth, Alatar loved horses and they him. When the Mearas appeared, Maglor knew it was Alatar trying to find him, and he could not ignore Alatar’s call. He took the Prophecy to the only one he could, to you, Lord Elrond and indeed to most of those who later became the White Council. You here were all there, with Glorfindel, Círdan… and Saruman. It was to be the first betrayal of Saruman, not to Sauron, not yet. But to Pallando. Pallando had secretly revealed himself to Saruman and persuaded him that only they had the power to restrain Sauron. Together they would use Sauron to gain dominion over the world of Men, Saruman to rule the Northern lands and Pallando the South and East.
You sent Maglor to Minas Tirith to warn Ëarnur. Ëarnur may not have listened, and the outcome not averted. We will never know, for Maglor was waylaid by a large force of the Astari of Sennebar in Northern Ithilien, one wearing Alataturë, Pallando himself, and he was taken downstream by boat to Sennebar. He held Maglor in the bowels of the Fortress for hundreds of years. I do not want to dwell on the tortures inflicted on Maglor, these are all too evident. Saruman had revealed the existence of the Prophecy to Pallando, yes. What he did not know, as Maglor had only entrusted the full Prophesy to Lord Elrond, were the details of the visions Maglor had seen. Over centuries of torture he revealed all details of the Prophecy, all false details, and so the truth of his Doom eluded Pallando. He kept Maglor alive for the sole purpose of seeing Alatariel’s line extinguished. Only then would he release Maglor to the Halls of Waiting. However, in his turn Maglor came to understand many of the secrets of Sennebar.
You all know that even for an Elf, his hearing is exceptional. It was trained to be so in Sennebar. It was his knowledge of the Fortress’s weakness which we exploited today. It pleased Pallando to have Maglor tortured in his presence in the room at the centre of the Fortress - the room where he kept the sword thrust into the bowels of the Fortress, the sword in which he stored all the enchantments keeping the Fortress impregnable, the mithril sword. My mithril sword.
Only it is not made of mithril, merely coated in it to hide its true name and nature.’
Lothíriel looked around her impassively. What she was about to impart was the key to all that had happened that day and only those present of the White Council had prior knowledge of it. She continued.
‘It is Anguirel, forged by the dark Elf, Ëol, from a metal not from this earth. It is a sword of great magic and power. It has a soul, like its sister-sword, Gurthang, the mighty black sword of Túrin Turambar.’ Lothíriel had to pause to allow the murmurings in the tent at this revelation to die down. Even those who were not of Elven kind understood the significance of the sword as one of the two most infamous ever made.
‘It was a simple mistake that set Maglor free. Pallando underestimated Maglor’s strength and determination. Pallando rarely left the Fortress but on the occasion of an all-out attack on Gondor by his proxy, Umbar, in 2758 at the onset of the Long Winter, Pallando hoped to destroy the line of Alatariel for good and wanted to be there in person as the last of her line was extinguished. With the Grand Master away, and his most trusted captains with him, his remaining minions became lax, and Maglor was able to trick them and free himself. He killed all Pallando’s fighters he could find left in the Fortress. He could not reclaim Alataturë, nor did he discover the Palantir, as these had gone with Pallando to Gondor, but he was able to take something far more valuable, Anguirel.
Maglor had learned much from Alatar and Pallando during the centuries he had lived with them and he alone in the Fortress had the knowledge and the power to break the enchantments guarding the sword. As soon as Maglor took the sword from its resting place at the centre of the main chamber of the Fortress, Pallando felt the power protecting the walls of Sennebar dwindle. It gave Maglor the chance to escape. The only reason Alatariel’s line survived was because, before he could kill them all in the attack on Pelargir, Pallando sped back with all his men to Sennebar to prevent the Fortress falling into Sauron’s hands, as Sauron too had felt the power wane. And so Pelargir was spared. It took a great deal of Pallando’s skill and strength taken from his staff instead of the sword to stabilise the protections around the Fortress, but these would never withstand the force of Anguirel if it was thrust back into its former resting place under the control of those with similar power, as we saw today.
And what needs to happen now? Maglor and I must go to Sennebar and retrieve the Palantir, we must release Alatar from the stone. I can channel some of his power through my body, but I cannot release his spirit from the orb unless I am in contact with it. Pallando has understood that the Palantir is of the utmost importance to us but not yet why. He is holed up in the Fortress threatening to destroy the stone if Tuor and Ottakar’s forces attack him. We believe he is in the Fortress with only about a hundred fighters, but also with any number of slaves, mostly women and children, he will murder if threatened. It’s me and Maglor he wants, and it is us he will get,’ she ended defiantly.
Her father had stood up to take her by the shoulders. ‘If you go, I go, daughter. Do not deny me this,’ he rasped out.
Éomer had been silent throughout the entire telling of the history. He too stood but he could do nothing except stare helplessly at her knowing he had no right to demand a place at her side.
‘No, Father. Amrothos has already demanded that dubious honour. You are too important and valuable to Gondor,’ she replied calmly.
‘And you are not?’ her father exploded.
He grabbed her to him and held her so tightly she could barely breath, as his face crumpled in raw emotion. He let her go as swiftly as he had taken her into his arms needing to regain control of himself and he strode out of the tent ostensibly in search of his youngest son.
Aragorn looked at her pensively.
‘You already have a plan,’ said Galadriel admiringly to Lothíriel.
‘Not me, my Lady. Maglor has a plan, I will just have to act my part,’ she replied with steely determination.