Belen Menel
Chapter 1: “Abandon All Hope”

The woods of Ithilien were content, content that the First-Born were back among the woods, whispering soothing words, sharing in old stories. The woods felt vibrant, renewed from their long slumber under dark. But these woods still held their secrets, some would say dark secrets. It was with anticipation that the woods waited for their secrets to be revealed.

If I were to find woods such as these, I am not sure my heart would be in for the game, but I have heard that trees have quite a sense of humor, that simple folks like me truly will never get. I don’t think treeish humor translates well to human form. It’s a humor that has an extended punch line. I guess punch line isn’t the best word for treeish mirth, as punch line is strictly a human word born from human impatience. The thing is I don’t think a human’s life lasts long enough to “get” tree humor, but maybe those of Númenórean blood can, maybe. To be sure then, trees are fond of Elves, as a child is fond of a parent, for the Elves have witnessed the passing of generation beyond generation of trees, and so I think these trees hold secrets not only for themselves, but for the Eldar, whom they aim to please.

It is true that the Elves had come for Eryn Lasgalen to Ithilien, with their Prince, to waken the grace of the woods, but the darkness that had permeated these woods tucked itself in here and there. On a quite normal summer day, Legolas, in the company of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien went for a stroll amongst the trees. Something out of place, caught Legolas’ attention, hidden amongst vines, imperceptible to the human eye. Legolas approached the area and amongst the vines he saw the wrought iron form of a gate. He cleared the vines away and stood back to admire the iron gate he uncovered beneath the vines and between the trees.

Legolas stared at the words neatly inscribed on the old iron gate…

Faramir pressed closely behind Legolas, close enough that Legolas could here the patterns in Faramir’s breath, which indicated that Faramir was struggling with the same thoughts. “Awartha pân amdir hyn ai minna sí” Faramir murmured in a tone suggesting he wasn’t quite sure if his translation.

Legolas nodded, “Yes but it is not written properly. It seems whoever wrote this translated the phrase 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here’ from common to Elvish literally” [1].

“…As if those who etched this inscription knew only rudimentary Elvish, but wanted to translate this ominous warning for reasons unknown”, Faramir continued, his head tilting towards the inscription, hands placed firmly on his waste, willing the puzzle to reveal itself.

The old iron gate stood up well to time despite its apparent age. It was the only remnant of whatever it stood to announce the presence of. Two large trees had grown on either side of the gate, partially engulfing the gate on each side, serving as the posts that held the lonely marker up. The gate had remained hidden under overgrowth, and surely no one would think to find a gate framed by trees in Ithilien, but Legolas was not ‘no one’, he was an Elf, and let us not forget Elves are magic, are they not?

But not a dull and doltish magic of card tricks and slight of hand…no Elves possess many types of magic, but the one I love most is that fey magic that winks at you leaving you with a dumb smile on your face, whether from awe or sheer lack of understanding. That other magic, if it really can be called magic, that seems to capture the currents of the breeze and intoxicate the hell out of ya, I would say this kind of magic is more than magic, it is spell bound, it is enchanted—if you can imagine the most beautiful woman in the world sharing a good bye kiss with her secret lover, that breath she inhales as she draws her lips away from his, if that were enchanted then maybe that would be what it is. How else can I describe that melancholy sparkle that also is Elven magic. So many kinds of Elven magic, and I’ve just described two, but let’s get back to that gate that has Faramir and our favorite Elf quite puzzled.

“Look here,” Legolas pointed to a symbol so faded it was hard to make out, “it appears to be some kind of cone.”

“Almost like a hornet’s nest” Faramir answered with a frown, “but I cannot make out the number of rings.” Faramir squinted his eyes, but they were of no use.

“There are nine rings” the Elf with adept vision replied, “and it does appear to be like a hornets nest, strange thing this is.” Legolas’ voice trailed off, and both he and Faramir continued to study the mysterious iron gate. Legolas heard a buzz around his head but was too interested in what he was looking at to pay much head.

Faramir yelped in surprise, causing both he and Legolas to jump back, “I’ve been stung” Faramir grumbled in annoyed disbelief.

“Indeed you have my friend. It seems we have disturbed a living hornets nest.” Legolas pointed up into the branches of the trees where some of the vines that had been removed had disturbed the nest.

“Do my eyes cheat me mellon nin—“

“They do not Faramir. There are nine pronounced rings around that hornets nest.” Legolas paid no mind to the insects, and they in turned paid him no attention. This caught the ire of Denethor’s youngest.

“By the Valar, Legolas, while you stand there and inspect the nest, I am under an onslaught!”

Legolas turned to see his retreating friend, wildly waving his arms around his head, eliciting a hearty laugh from the Elven prince, “’Tis mere provocation. Be calm and they will not harm you. They are only acting to protect their own.”

But the darned things would not give up their assault on the Steward. Legolas, unmoved by Faramir’s predicament proclaimed “They do not respect your title! They will however react to your respect of them.”

Faramir had run a distance from Legolas, yelling back “Maybe if I’d kept my rod of office these drasted insects would let me be…seriously Legolas it hurts!”

“Very well then Faramir,” and with that Legolas sang a soft lullaby that seemed to sit well with the hornets. They felt the vibrations of Legolas’ voice and were soothed. Upon the hornets return home, Legolas faced the gate, trees and nest, answering the challenge, “Very well then, we will return to discover your riddle”

And that was some of that fey Elvish magic that winked at Faramir, but left him, nonetheless irritated. Legolas, no doubt, understands, as does Faramir, that whatever secrets this gate holds, there is a darkness there. The hornets no doubt are a reminder of that darkness and a warning to those who dare explore its meaning. While I am not wise in the ways of fair nobles or high Elven princes, I am wise in the ways of us common folk, and my part in this tale will have me cross paths with the Lords of Men and Elves. One point of clarification—and one not lost on the Lord of Emyn Arnen, I am not Lorded OVER by men, only by the whim of time, the wrinkles in my face, and my joy at seeing this land renewed.

[1] From "The Divine Inferno" .