Isildur

When the work was well under way, the Elves made ready to depart, for they had no wish to remain any longer in that sad land. On their last night, Cirdan came to the king in his tent. There, amid the splendor of tapestries and silver, Isildur brooded. Cirdan ducked his head beneath the curtain.

"The Noldor are nearly ready, Lord," he said. The king bade him sit and take mead with him.

"What are your plans, Shipwright?" asked Isildur. "Will you bide with us in Gondor a time? I hope to have this work completed before the days grow short again. I could show you the beauties of my land."

The old Elf shook his grey head. "Nay, I thank you, Lord. But my people yearn for their ships and the sea. We shall sail for Mithlond within the month, before the equinoctial gales make the passage too difficult. We will leave enough ships at Pelargir to ensure the safety of the River until your fleet is rebuilt."

"I will miss you, my friend," said Isildur. "But I would not seek to stay you. My people too are eager to see their homes."

"For many of the Noldor, especially the elders," said Cirdan, "I think their stay in Mithlond will be short. There is much talk of Crossing the Sea. We Exiles returned to these shores to rid the world of Morgoth's evil. Now both he and his mightiest servant have been destroyed. Our mission here is finished, they say, and it is time to return Home. The New Age is over, and many feel the Third Age will be an age of Men, not Elves."

"If so," replied Isildur, "we will always treasure the wisdom and advice of the Firstborn. I would not relish a world that does not echo now and again to Elvish singing. It would be a sadder and lonelier place without your people in it. But what of yourself? Will you Cross, too?"

"Nay, not yet, I think. Many of my people will remain. We have lived long on these mortal shores, and before that in the wide East, but dimly remembered even in Quendi memory. This land is dear to us. It was ours before ever the first Men came out of the south, dressed in furs and bearing weapons of stone. Now many of us are loath to leave it, for we know there will be no returning again. Many ships are yet unbuilt. I will remain while my ships are needed and there are still Noldor on this side to sail in them."

Isildur smiled, something he rarely did in these latter days. "I am glad to hear it, my friend. Men need such friends as the noble Cirdan. But Gil-galad left no heir. Will you assume the crown of Lindon?"

"No. Gil-galad was King of the Noldor, but he was the last. Beleriand and Nargothrond were destroyed long ago, and Eregion is without a prince or a people. Our empire is no longer. We shall remain as we are, separate colonies with no lord over all. I shall be merely Shipmaster of Mithlond." He stared sadly at his hands. Then he looked up at Isildur. "But what of you, Lord? What are your plans when this work is finished?"

"I shall return to Gondor and set the kingdom in order once more. But Arnor is now without a king. Meneldil is my brother's heir, and he has ruled Gondor well since our father left. It is in my mind to leave Gondor in his care and remove with my family to Arnor. I shall remain High King of the Realms in Exile, but it shall be only a nominal title. Meneldil shall be King of Gondor and I of Arnor, and the two realms shall be sister states."

Cirdan nodded. "You will not return to Minas Ithil then?"

"No. To say the truth, whether it is truly clean or foul, the land of Ithilien is poisoned forever in the mind of my dear wife Vorondomë. The terrors of that night when we were driven from our home are always with her. Where once she was gay and full of laughter, now she is somber and fearful. I think she could never be happy again in Minas Ithil. Better to start a new life in a new place. And Annúminas is a beautiful city. You should see it when the sun is setting beyond the still lake. I hope she will be happy there, far from the reminders of our lost contentment.

"But before I leave I will purge both Osgiliath and Minas Ithil of the taint of Sauron. Both have been defiled and must be cleansed. That which was destroyed will be rebuilt, till Minas Ithil shines again as it did of old when the moonlight welled from its marble walls and towers."

"You have set yourself some massive tasks, my friend. You seek to undo the work Sauron with all his powers and slaves labored a thousand years to complete. It will not be easy."

Isildur strode to the opening of the tent and pulled back the flap. The full moon was rising, and silhouetted against it were the broken stubs of the once-lofty towers of the Barad-dûr. He pointed to the ruined fortress.

"Yonder Tower was a symbol of his might, and you see it is already coming down. I will destroy all traces of him and his works before I am through. I owe it to my father and my brother and all the rest of my people he has slain. And I am not without powers of my own, now." And smiling slyly, he drew forth the One Ring from where it hung about his neck.

Cirdan cast a dubious glance at the shining thing. "I like not your prize, Lord, and rue that we did not destroy it when we had the chance. It was forged by evil for evil intent. Its power is that of Sauron himself. I fear that no good can come of its use."

Isildur nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on the Ring as it swung idly from the chain. "Aye, Sauron wrought much terror and suffering with the help of this precious little bauble," he said. "But he is gone and will trouble us no more. His power is broken. Is it not meet that his own Ring should be used to redress the wrongs he committed with it? What could be more fitting? And as you say, we have great tasks ahead of us. Should we discard our best hope of rebuilding our lands? Let his handiwork undo his handiwork, I say."

Cirdan watched Isildur's eyes as they followed the swaying Ring. The golden reflections glinted deep in his eyes. Cirdan shook his head.

"I fear it is too perilous. We know so little of the Great Rings. Even Celebrimbor who made them did not fully understand the source of their powers. He told me once that he believed they drew on the unimaginable forces that drive the wandering planets in their appointed paths. And none but Sauron knew how the One was made. Who knows what effect it might have on another? Before you took it, it had known no hand but Sauron's.

"Celebrimbor was a great smith and the Rings of Power were his greatest creation and his greatest pride. Yet even he urged great caution in their use. He came to me in the dark days of Sauron's rising, when we were only beginning to realize the enormity of his betrayal. Celebrimbor brought me Narya. He held it up and said, 'This is Narya Flameheart, the Ring of Fire. I made it to aid us in our labors, but now it may prove the means of our undoing. I fear I have brought a power into the world that is beyond my control. I give it into your hands, Shipwright. Guard it closely and keep it secret. Wield it, if at all, only in time of great need and with the utmost care and caution.' He hesitated then before handing it to me. 'It is strange,' he said. 'I have borne it but a few years, and yet I find it strangely difficult to surrender it to you. I both love and fear it. The Rings bestow great powers on their bearers, but they take something away as well. I feel that some part of myself has been absorbed into Narya, changing both it and me.' In the end of course, he did give it to me. I have now borne it many yén, and I know what he meant. Narya has become a part of me, and I a part of it. Is it not likely that the One has taken somewhat of its master's will and power? If anything of Sauron's malevolence survives, it is in that simple golden band. I should not willingly place it upon my hand."

Isildur looked up sharply at that, meeting the deep grey Elven eyes that had seen so many years. "No," he said. "No, I agree, it would be most unwise for you to put on the One. You are Narya's master, your power is associated with it. Who knows what might befall if you were to merge its powers with mine… with this Ring's? No, the One must remain where it is safest — in my hands, where none will be tempted to use it for evil. I understand your concerns, Master Cirdan, but you may be assured that I will use it wisely and with the greatest care. I have seen the evil that Sauron did with it — who more than I? But I believe the malice lay not in the Ring itself, but in the hand that bore it. If a man slays another with a knife, do we destroy the knife? No. As you have said yourself, the Rings are not weapons, but useful tools for those strong enough to wield them. With our lands despoiled would you have me destroy the one instrument that could cleanse them? No, let us use what we have wrested from Sauron. Eru knows the price was high enough."