#i don’t know where to go from here but i think she’d def call gondor and freak people out

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Random Silm/LOTR fanfic snippet for my lil’ gremlin OC:

***

King Eldarion did not use the palantír frequently; it showed present events only as from a great distance, and most things within Gondor and Arnor could be learned more effectively, if more slowly, from messengers on horseback. The glimpses it showed of the future were perilous and easily misinterpreted. But it was useful, by times, for watching the borders of his realm, and learning of any great changes or new threats before they reached his people.

It could no longer be used to communicate with others; the stones of Arnor had been lost, those of Osgiliath and Minas Ithil destroyed, and that of Minas Tirith was kept locked in the vaults of the tower, with only the former Orthanc-stone remaining for the King’s use.

Which was why he was startled, when using the Stone one afternoon, to find his visions interrupted by a dark-haired, grinning, unmistakably Elven face.

“Hi! How are you? I knew we could talk, even though everyone insisted we couldn’t! We ought to, we’re family, and I’ve never met a human before and I want to know everything about Gondor - ”

“Who,” said Eldarion sternly, “are you?” He focused his mind on the stranger with all the authority of the rightful owner of the Stone. “Identify yourself.” The being’s demeanour was far from threatening, and she looked youthful - though it was difficult to tell, with elves - but appearance could be deceptive or counterfeited, and a stranger breaking into use of the palantír and immediately seeking information on his realm could not be treated as other than a potential threat.

“There’s no need to be rude. We’re practically cousins, a bunch of times removed, and I just wanted to talk, because Middle-earth is fascinating and everything’s so boring here, and I haven’t done anything so I don’t se why you’d be mean and you’re giving me a headache - ” The stream of words was suddenly cut off by a look of abrupt realization. “Oh, right, because of Uncle Cel, but you don’t need to worry - ”

The face abruptly disappeared from the palantír as suddenly as it had appeared.

Eldarion scanned the palantír for hours more, but found no sign or trace of the intruder’s origin.

*****

Eldarion continued to consider the event for days afterwards. A being that was trying to learn of his realm and councils for ill might counterfeit a fair form, but would almost certainly try to display more gravitas, and would be unlikely to specifically bring up Celebrimbor, as he was increasingly certain she had. The juxtaposition of ‘Middle-earth’ and ‘here’ suggested that she was from Valinor, which was - unless someone reached through time from Númenor - also the most likely place where another palantír could exist.

And she certainly acted like a child. Though that in itself was strange; the Orthanc-stone, and the other stones in earlier years, were safeguarded as powerful and perilous objects, not left where anyone might run across them.

Nearly a week later, as he was again scanning the atone, a face appeared, but a different one. Still Elvish, but blond, male, older, and far more formal in address.

“I ask your pardon for the earlier interruption, King Eldarion. My daughter is eager and heedless, and frequently does not think through the repercussions of her actions. She meant no harm, and I hope she has not alarmed you unduly. She should never have had access to the Eressëa stone, but she is, unfortunately - ” he laughed ruefully - “rather cleverer than most of us. ”

The elf looked tired, reminding Eldarion of how himself had looked when his children were aged one and three. Eldarion felt inclined to believe him, but he could not operate solely on trust.

“Will you, then, identify yourself? And her?” He merely asked, and did not attempt compulsion this time; he had an inkling that it would not have succeeded.

The elf’s expression became awkward. “I suppose I must, though I would prefer you not to pay too much heed to it, and to think of me only as a father with an errant daughter. You would know me as Finrod Felagund.”

Eldarion’s mind went almost blank with shock. He looked instinctively down at his hands, at the ring on his finger -

Finrod Felagund. He was speaking with a legend. He was being apologized to over, apparently, a childhood prank by a legend.

“My daughter is called Mischief - an epessë of course, but you can easily see how she acquired it! She is still young, in your terms about fifteen, and has a great interest in everything, both within and outside our borders. We in Valinor had no intent to contact you or to interfere in your affairs, but after her actions an explanation seemed like the least harmful of choices.”