Land of the King

Chapter 1: Of the Coming of the Dúnedain to Westeros.

Isildur

"We have to leave now!" Isildur shouted to the crew of his ship. As fast as they could they released the sails and their ship was blown out of the harbour by the wind.

Looking back, Isildur could see a giant wave, a wall of water rolling over the hills near Rómenna. Cries of despair rang from the city but he hardened his heart. They could give no help to their countrymen.

As the sea drowned Númenor, Isildur could feel a single tear rolling down his face. He had just watched the destruction of his homeland. But there was no time to mourn. He had a responsibility to see the men and women on board his ship to safety.

"The mast! The mast is breaking!" He heard one of the sailors say, snapping him out of his thoughts and sure enough he could see the mast cracking under the wind's fury. Isildur had to duck to avoid the mast as it crashed down onto the side of his ship.

Without a mast they were now at the mercy of the sea and Isildur prayed for Eru's protection. No longer could he see the other eight ships, the ships carrying his brother, father, and wife and son. Isildur hoped with all his heart that they had not been lost in the storm. He did not know if he could bear to lose any more.

The greatest storm of Isildur's life had lasted six hours. The worst six hours of his life; six hours of wondering if Eru would have mercy on them or if he had decided it was time they joined him in the Timeless Halls.

When it had faded, they had found themselves near the shores of a small, natural bay surrounded on all sides by low hills and thick woods. To the joy of all on board the ship, they saw the other eight ships beached nearby. Their passengers had already made camp, felling trees for timber and fires.

Isildur was especially relieved for it meant there was a good chance his family was well. It had been his brother Anárion's plan. Their people needed leadership and to prevent the possibility of their family being wiped out in the coming cataclysm, it had been proposed to divide themselves up amongst the Nine Ships. Isildur and his father, brother, and son, Elendur, had all been assigned a ship of their own. Even Isildur's year-old nephew, Meneldil, had been assigned a ship. He had of course been accompanied by his mother.

They were greeted with cheers as they rowed their skiffs to the shore. Their kinsmen were overjoyed to see them and embraced them. Isildur himself had been embraced by his family.

"We are overjoyed to see you, son," his father, Elendil, said. "When there had been no sign of your ship we had feared the worst."

Seeing the look of confusion on Isildur's face, Elendil elaborated, "The rest of the ships reached ashore yesterday, we had thought yours had sunk when it did not also appear."

"How can that be? The storm only lasted six hours, it cannot be possible for me to have arrived a full day after you," Isildur said.

"Six hours, brother? In our own experience, the storm lasted but three," his brother, Anárion, said.

"It is indeed curious but it is of no great matter in the end, what is important is that you are here and alive," Elendil told him.

"Where are we anyway? This does not look like any part of Middle-Earth that I have ever visited," Isildur questioned, looking around to the wooded hills surrounding.

Anárion and Elendil shared a look. "We do not know, brother. The stars themselves are strange. None of them are familiar to us."

Isildur grew concerned. The plan had been for them to join with the rest of the Faithful who had settled in Middle-earth. If the stars were unfamiliar it meant that they were very, very far away from the colonies of Numenor and from any allies.

After that conversation, Isildur had set to work. Apparently his ship was the most intact of all the Nine. He had overseen the replacing of its mast. It would be needed for them to explore their surrounding region and to fish if necessary. And Isildur was beginning to think that his ship was more likely than not to be used for fishing than exploring for the foreseeable future.

The Nine Ships had carried six thousand from the Downfall. A small number it may seem when compared to the millions that had once dwelt on the Isle of Elenna but six thousand was too many for them to sustain with their stores. The storage of food and other necessities had been sacrificed to carry as many passengers as possible. Their supplies were mostly limited to a small cache of swiftly dwindling lembas bread and a few medicines. At this rate, they would run out of supplies in two days.

To stave off the inevitable, Elendil had ordered every able-bodied man not occupied with a task to hunt for game in the woods surrounding their camp. His son, Elendur, had been one of them.

'I hope he is safe' Isildur thought to himself. He uttered a quick prayer to Eru for his son's safety before he continued on with his tasks. There was much to be done.

Elendur

Only two days ago, Elendur had been the third in line to the Lordship of Andúnië, after his grandfather and father, one of the richest, largest and most prestigious titles in Numenor, second only to the King. Now he was reduced to this. Hunting in the woods for game. Elendur had of course hunted in Númenor but it had been for pleasure then. Now he hunted out of necessity and he could not help but feel angry that he had to do so. He was not upset about the task itself but rather its necessity

His thoughts may seem to some as the petulant whining of a boy but it must be remembered that at the age of 20, Elendur was still five years short of his coming of age and so by the reckoning of his people, a child.

Nevertheless, he steeled his resolve. Complaining, shouting, crying, nothing would change the truth. Númenor was lost forever. He cursed Ar-Pharazon yet again. His arrogance and foolishness had seen the Land of Gift taken away.

Elendur shuddered as he recalled the memory of the water rolling over and swallowing his homeland. It had been clear to all. The Downfall had been Eru's punishment. Elendur knew that he would never defy Eru after witnessing the Downfall. He would teach it to his sons and pray they taught it to theirs. To never become so arrogant that they think to aspire above their place, lest Eru strike them down as he had their countrymen.

Lost in his thoughts, Elendur had failed to notice a stag until he was naught but 20 feet from it. Stunned, he swiftly drew his bow and nocked an arrow, admiring the impressive antlers and brown coat of the stag. But before he could loose his arrow, another arrow had found its mark in the stag's heart, killing it instantly.

Disappointed, Elendur searched for the owner of the arrow, wishing to know which of his fellow hunters had beat him to his catch. He was rather surprised to find it had been none of them. A brown-haired man stepped into the clearing and began skinning the stag.

'A local?' Elendur thought to himself. He made his presence known and greeted the man. The man was absolutely shocked to find him and immediately his hand moved to his bow. Acting instinctively, Elendur surged forward and snatched the weapon form the man's hands. The man attempted to wrestle with him and fight but Elendur was of the Line of Elros, greatest of the Dúnedain, and he would not lose. He grabbed the man and with incredible strength he threw the man across the clearing into a nearby tree.

As the man cowered before him, Elendur wondered why he had attacked him, before he realised. The man could not be more than 5 foot and 4 inches in height. Elendur was not nearly as tall as his grandfather but at exactly 7 foot he was considered tall even by the reckoning of his own people. With that knowledge it was easier to understand why the man would attack him. He had very likely been extremely shocked and afraid to find a seven-foot giant suddenly walking into the clearing out of nowhere.

Deciding to make peace with the man, Elendur offered his hand to the man who cautiously took it. Elendur then looked into his mind. The mind abilities of the Dúnedain were complicated, they could perceive to a certain extent, the thoughts and intentions of lesser men and the more skilled of them were even able to bend their wills.

In this case, Elendur was determining the man's intentions and gleaning a brief knowledge of his language. Satisfied, he withdrew and spoke to him, "My apologies for my actions friend, I was merely defending myself. I am Elendur, son of Isildur,"

The man looked surprised that he knew his tongue and answered, "I am Corlos, son of Caster. I must also apologise, I had believed you to be an enemy. How are you so tall? I had thought you to be some monstrous giant."

"Ah, it is a trait shared by my kindred and I, we are an exceptionally tall race," Elendur answered.

"I have lived my entire life in this land and I have yet to encounter one as tall as you. There are rumours of giants as tall as fourteen feet in other lands, but I never thought to meet one here,"

"I must correct you, friend. I am no giant. I am a man, tall and strong, but a man nonetheless. My people and I have recently arrived in these lands."

"Why did you come here then?" Corlos questioned.

And so Elendur told him an abridged tale of his homeland and the reason they had departed.

"I know not if you speak the truth, but the look in your eye tells me it is so. Still is a very wild tale. If you wish, I will take you to my father, he is the chief of my village and he may be able to give you some aid. Are you in any position of authority amongst your people?" Corlos said.

"I am the grandson of the lord of our people," Elendur replied

"That will do"

Elendur had then helped Corlos carry the stag as he led him to his village. The villagers had been very confused and shocked to see Elendur beside Corlos when they had entered. The village in question was a modest place of wooden huts protected by a small stockade. They had been allowed to pass on Corlos's order and they soon arrived at the chief's longhouse.

"Who is this tall stranger you bring to us, son," inquired Caster. He and many other villagers were eying Elendur with confusion and suspicion. Their hostility and fear was so great that he had to resist the urge to move his hand to the hilt of his sword.

"This is Elendur, son of Isildur, father. He and his kin have arrived in these lands recently. He is an emissary of his people. I vouch for his trustworthiness."

"Very well. Bring bread and salt," Caster said after a long pause.

Elendur looked to Corlos in question. "It is guest right. You and my father both swear to do no harm to the other and anything they own."

Understanding, Elendur followed Corlos into the longhouse. He then had a long discussion with the village elders and Chief Caster. He answered their questions and told them the reason for his people's presence in their lands.

They were not the most pleased as the small bay his people landed in was claimed by the village. Elendur however knew the Dúnedain would win any fight. Putting aside their technological advancement or physical superiority, they were six thousand and the people of this village were at most three hundred in number. He had made the elders and Caster aware of this fact and they gave him permission to return to his camp with Corlos as emissary to bring the proposal for a meeting to his grandfather. Accepting he had begged his leave and with Corlos in tow, departed the village.

Elendil

He had been a bit surprised when his grandson had appeared in camp with a local accompanying him. However, his grandson's story had intrigued him and he had told young Corlos that he accepted his father's proposal and had that he and a few companions would attend the meeting in his village the following day.

The next day, Elendil, his son, Isildur and a small host of guards were lead to the village by Elendur. Upon their entry, the local villagers had looked upon them with fear and awe. Elendil was relying on that. He did not wish for war with these people but if necessary he would fight them if it meant protecting his people.

He did not think it likely that war would occur however. Elendil planned on offering them much. He had noticed that their village was rather primitive and that its inhabitants knew not the existence or working of iron.

After a long discussion and a demonstration of the capabilities of his people's weapons Elendil knew that the natives were becoming increasingly fearful and amazed. They were especially intrigued and amazed by iron. Elendil himself was quite intrigued by a few of the stories spoken of by villagers. He learned that the land was called Westeros and that they were in the western part of the continent. He learned of how the villager's ancestors had crossed a land bridge and had warred with the natives before making peace with them. He had been especially intrigued of the 'Gods of the Forest' and 'Children of the Forest' spoken of by the village shaman, likening them to Maiar and Eldar in his mind.

He had however been most surprised by their story of the Long Night, a generation-long winter that had occurred some two hundred years ago and the Others, a race of cold demon necromancers, who had terrorised Westeros before being beaten back at winter's end. He had been even more surprised to find that since then the seasons had all been unnaturally long and erratic.

"Truly your winter last years on end? In my homeland they were even, lasting but four months each a year," Elendil said to the village council.

"Lord Elendil your words of such seasons are as strange to us as the idea of year-long seasons is to you, but I admit that we had old stories of the seasons being such before the Long Night," Caster told him.

Finally, at the end of their meeting, he proposed an offer to Caster.

"Chief Caster, you are a proud man and I know it will be difficult for you to do this but I ask you to swear fealty to me. This land cannot have two lords and I command the greater host amongst our two people. Should you give to us your loyalty I swear that my people and I will teach to you much of our knowledge including the working of the metal, iron. You will remain lord of your people and together we shall build a mighty and prosperous realm. What say you?"

The village elders were outraged by his proposal but Caster's son Corlos was in support of it.

"He speaks true father, we cannot win against them, but if we join with them, our people can prosper like never before. We need not fear winter with their aid."

"Have you no pride boy? You would see us kneel before these foreigners!?" One of the elders interjected loudly, disgusted.

"Enough, this bickering will not help us. Lord Elendil you are correct, but I cannot easily surrender my independence, may I have some time to think on this?" Caster asked

"Very well, but I expect your answer by the morrow."

The next day, Elendil had been called by his guards to the entrance of their camp to find Chief Caster, his son and many of his people armed for war behind him.

Caster cried out in a loud voice," Do you Elendil, son of Amandil, swear to defend us from our enemies? To teach us your knowledge so that we may prosper? Do you guarantee our rights and our freedoms, including our right to worship our gods as we please and keep our customs?"

"I do, I swear it by Eru and by the Gods of the Forest. May they strike me down if I am untruthful."

Then Caster knelt before and all his companions joined him. He swore an oath of fealty to him, pledging his sword and loyalty.

"Rise Lord Caster, there is much to be done and our people shall become prosperous and strong together. This I swear to you."

'Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta'

- Elendil's oath sworn upon his landing in Westeros. In the common tongue it translates to "Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world."

Author's note: Welp this is my first story so please be nice. Anyway I don't think it too unlikely for the First Men to be absolutely amazed by the Numenoreans and willingly swear fealy to them. Its even in Silmarillion that the chiefs of the native men of the Realms-in-exile took the Dunedain as their overlords willingly for they were so astounded by their majesty and might.