(again, copy-paste of the chapter from the book document I am actually making. This one in an actual diary format!)
Brother and Betrayer
From the diary of Tarthalinor Elhromane
14th day of Gwaeron, 3016 TA
I received a strange letter today from my brother. Not Thalduron, as I had hoped, but from Guldurir. I was at first hopeful, thinking he had come to his senses. But the letter said only to meet him near Bree-Town. I was skeptical, but hope forced my hand, and I saddled Eledron and rode from the gates of Falathlorn south through the Shire, keeping to the cover of trees. I reached the border of Bree-land. Riding to Bree itself, I disguised myself and took a room in the Prancing Pony, hiding my true nature, and set out into the town to make a patrol, in case my brother had sent one of his agents to find me. I saw 3 men, Southerners by their faces, that bore his mark on their armor, but they did not approach me, and I wished to remain hidden until I knew where Guldurir was.
Upon returning to my room, I found a sealed letter on the bedside table, along with my ink, open, and a broken quill which had been deliberately broken in half. The wax was black, and was freshly dried. I opened the letter, and saw Guldurir’s thin, running hand in old Quenya Tengwar.
I see you have become rather predictable. You always scout around a city you are staying in, even before unpacking. I took the liberty of unpacking your things for you, and I am much obliged for the use of your ink, paper, and quill.
It has come to my attention that you approached the Loth-I-Lonnath recently. Did you think you could join a herth of Lindon? After having pledged your loyalty to the Lady Galadriel? That is most strange to me…
Know that the Herth cannot help you now. No one can, even were you to ask your ‘Illuvatar’ to aid you and he somehow answered, you could not stop me. This is the only way, and must be taken with the swiftest of action. If we delay Sauron will inevitably rise and overtake even the farthest reaches of the West.
I bid you farewell, then. Do not come looking for me.
You will most regret it if you do.
I threw the letter into the fire in disgust.
15th Day of Gwaeron, 3016 TA
I cannot stand him! He will not see sense! How cannot he not see that this power will kill him?
I found Guldurir this day.
I tracked him down into the Weather Hills, to a ruined tower that once stood there, part of the Watch that stretched westward from Weathertop to guard against the enemy. With Amon Sùl’s great shadow rising against late afternoon sky, I approached. I was well into the circle before I saw what my brother kept in his little home: objects of arcane purpose, scrolls of papers, chunks of rock and crystal, among other things for living.
“Brother.” I heard the voice before I saw him, from behind me. I spun, anticipating an attack, but he simply walked calmly into the ruin.
“Guldurir.” I replied, sheathing my dagger.
“You really have become predictable, haven’t you?”
“I tell you not to look for me; you follow me wherever my trail leads.”
I raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
“Your time among the Edain has made you soft. Can you not even recognize a trap anymore?”
I took a deep breath. “I am here to talk.”
“Then do so. I am not stopping you.”
I sat down and began to talk. This power would destroy him, I said. Could he not see that it was the power of the enemy, not of our people? Wasn’t there some other way?
“Just come with me, back to Lindon. We can fix this, trust in me.”
He stood, his eyes blazing, the iris flashing green
“Yes, of course,” he spat “Trust ‘Big Brother’ to show you the way. You can’t think for yourself, you don’t know what you’re doing.”
He kicked his chair away and strode away in exasperation to the center of the room.
“Guldurir! Stop, you don’t have to do this!”
“Why? You cannot control me anymore, Tarthalinor; you of all people should know that now!”
I stood and walked over to him.
“There is no need to do this. Come with me. We can fight him together.”
There was a flash of movement, and I found myself flying across the room, crashing into a pile of rubble, the breath knocked out of me. Guldurir walked slowly to stand over me, drawing a dagger form his belt. The weapon glinted like polished obsidian.
“Not a chance of that, brother dear.”
I felt a hot pain in my hand, and found my left hand pinned to the ground with the dagger. The heat was swiftly replaced with a mind-numbing cold, such as I had never felt before in my life.
“I told you that you would be sorry if you followed me.”
Guldurir stood in the door, a black shape against a red sky.
“Good-bye brother dear. I hope our paths never cross again.”
Brother and Betrayer
by Tarthalinor on Mar 03, 2016 at 07:40 PM}