The Vault of Annúminas

Chapter 8: Lake Evendim

Thence [Elendil] passed up the River Lhûn, and beyond Ered Luin he established his realm, and his people dwelt in many places in Eriador about the courses of the Lhûn and the Baranduin; but his chief city was at Annúminas beside the water of Lake Nenuial.
‘Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age’, The Silmarillion

Hearing another huge yawn, Aragorn halted Arthad for a moment to let Frodo catch up to him.

“I do apologize, little one,” Aragorn said with a twinkle in his eye.  “I know that tweens need their sleep.”

“We do,” Frodo insisted.  “Why on earth are we doing this in the middle of the night?”

Aragorn chuckled.  “The sun should be rising just as we crest the hill.  Elladan and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Miss what?  Why are you being so mysterious?” Frodo asked.  He checked to see that Scamp was all right.  The pup, puzzled at being awakened before sunrise, had simply curled up in the sling about Frodo’s chest and gone straight back to sleep.  Frodo wished he could join her.

“You will see, once we reach the top,” Elladan added, coming up from the rear.

“Bilbo’s map shows that these hills end not far to the east,” Frodo argued, feeling sulky and tired.  “It would have been easier to just ride around them to the lake, and not have to climb all the way up here, and then all the way down.”

“Easier, yes,” Aragorn said soothingly, “but not as beautiful.  You will see.”

Frodo sighed, and urged Biscuit forward.  The higher they rode the colder it felt, and he was again grateful for the warm cloak Aragorn had advised him to bring.  They continued up and up, along a wide path that led to the top of the southernmost arm of the Evendim Hills.  As his eyes grew used to the pre-dawn darkness, Frodo realized that the path was in reality a fairly wide and substantial road, cut and shaped out of the rock.  Paving stones, some broken or missing, lined the ground, and the road veered now left, now right, wending its way to the top.

“How old is this road?” Frodo asked, getting more interested in his surroundings.  “Why was it made?”

“Annúminas was the major city of the north,” Aragorn said.  “Roads led to it from all directions, and would have been well traveled no matter the season.  There is a small guard tower at the top of this pass, just ahead now, where we will rest and await the rising of the sun.”

“You said that Annúminas means ‘tower of the west’,” Frodo said.  “Does it refer to that guard tower?”

“No,” Elladan told him.  “Elendil’s mighty city is no more, Frodo.  Its lofty tower, and the halls, homes, and trade stations were dismantled long ago.  Most of the stones were hauled off to the east, and used to build the second capital, Fornost Erain.  In truth, I do not know the location of the original tower from which this city received its name.  Perhaps my father could tell us, were he here.”  He shook his head.  “There is very little left to see, but there are still Elves in Middle-earth who remember the Faithful, and honor their ancient lands.”

Frodo didn’t understand all of this, but was getting distracted by the trees that lined the road in stately majesty.

“I’ve never seen these before,” Frodo said, craning his neck to peer up into the shadowed branches.  The trees were massive, and some of them quite unusual.

“Indeed, north of the Shire grow many things that are quite different than those to which you are accustomed,” Aragorn agreed.  “Seedlings of many unique plants were brought to these shores from Númenor, the island in the western Sea that is no more; they grow now only in isolated parts of Eriador.”  He smiled.  “I suspect that you will be the first hobbit ever to see them.”

Frodo sat up straighter, suddenly feeling his excitement building again.

“Here we are,” Elladan said.  The three riders halted, then dismounted.  Frodo looked around eagerly, but only saw more trees, and a partially fallen-in tower of stone.  He peered inside, but it was empty.

“This way,” Aragorn said quietly.  He slung one of the packs over his shoulder and led Frodo past the tower, to a large open area of flat stones.  Frodo was at first puzzled by what he was seeing.  The ground far below them, and as far northwards as he could make out, seemed to be pitch black and covered with twinkling stars.  He looked up, then down, seeing very little difference between the sky and the land below.

“Nenuial,” Elladan said, coming to stand beside them.  “The Lake of Twilight.  It mirrors Elbereth’s stars in a way I have seen in no other place.”

“That…” Frodo stared in amazement.  “All that area down there... that’s water?  I knew the lake was big, but--”

“It is,” Aragorn smiled, seating himself on one of the flat stones.  “Lake Evendim, from end to end, is perhaps fifty miles long.”

Frodo sat next to Aragorn, dumbfounded.  Long Lake, on Bilbo’s map of Erebor, wasn’t half that size.  “I want to see it.”  He gazed anxiously into the east, willing the sun to rise faster.

“She comes,” Elladan said softly.  He raised his voice in a song of gladness, his clear voice echoing through the hills and filling the air with music.  After a moment, the first thin edge of the sun appeared above the mountains to the east, and the sky began to brighten.  As if in answer to Elladan’s voice, a chorus of birdsong filled the air.

As Frodo watched, enraptured, the valley and hills lit up.  What he had thought was black ground was black no longer, and most definitely not solid ground; the reflected stars faded, and in their place was clear Lake Evendim, on fire with a golden radiance.  The lake spread before them, mile after mile, glittering in the sun and beautiful enough to take Frodo’s breath away.  Vast areas of water were covered with what looked like white sheets of ice, but which Elladan explained were thousands of birds, resting in this peaceful sanctuary.  The valley in which it lay, spreading eastward to the sparkling Brandywine and beyond, was dotted with meadows, beautiful groves of ancient trees, and tiny streams.  From where they sat, the hills continued to the west and north, surrounding the lake in a great half-circle.  Frodo could see the Blue Mountains, home of the Dwarves who dwelt on the border of Eriador.  And further west, beyond his sight, would be...

“That lake is so big, it must be almost like the Sea,” Frodo mused.  “I sometimes dream about crashing waves, and water to the horizon.”

Elladan and Aragorn exchanged a glance, but said nothing.  This boy’s dreams were intriguing, indeed.

“I see a long, stone walkway leading into the water, and a fenced paddock near that pile of tumbled stones.” Frodo pointed.  “And is that a little house?”

“Yes,” Aragorn replied.  “Rangers pass through this area quite often.  The shelter is quite comfortable; you can nap there while Elladan and I unpack our gear.”

“I don’t need to—” Frodo’s protest was cut off by another yawn.

“And this evening,” Aragorn continued, “we will see what fish are willing to be caught for our supper.  Elladan and I will sit idly by while you grill them, wielding those spices and dried herbs you thought I didn’t see you pack.”

Frodo grinned and nodded.

“There are archery targets near the shelter,” Elladan remarked.  “You were wondering if Estel could draw my bow; perhaps you will be able to persuade him to show you.”

“I would love that,” Frodo said enthusiastically.

“Frodo,” Elladan asked curiously, “do you recognize anything?”

“You mean, from my dream?” Frodo asked.  He gazed at the hills, lake, and valley, and shook his head with a sigh.  “No.  Not from here, anyway.”

“No matter,” Aragorn said reassuringly.  “Come, let us break our fast; we will continue on when the sun is higher.”  He opened the pack he had brought and handed out ripe peaches, then drew out some of the cheese and bread they had procured from the last farmhouse they passed.  At the sound of the crackling paper and enticing smells, Scamp poked her head out of the sling and scrambled free.

“You glutton,” Frodo laughed.  He broke off portions of cheese for Scamp, and poured water from his bottle into a small bowl.  “You’ve already had your breakfast, or don’t you recall?”

“Do you forgive us for dragging you up here?” Aragorn asked.

“Absolutely,” Frodo smiled happily.  “Is it safe to swim in the lake?  Washing in streams isn’t very satisfying.”

“You may attempt it, if you wish,” Aragorn chuckled.  He was enjoying Frodo’s delight with their surroundings.  “However, you will find the water to be quite cold, even in summer.  It is fed, as is that pond in Bindbale Wood, from the ice fields to the north.”

“It’s just so beautiful,” Frodo murmured.  Lake Evendim was the largest thing he had ever seen.  The fresh, light greens of the valley contrasted delightfully with the heavily-forested hills, the sparkling water, and the stark white of the enormous stones littered about the valley.  Overgrown, ancient roads radiated outwards in many directions, and Frodo remembered Elladan telling him that the city had been laid out in a star shape.  The foundations of massive buildings were still visible, half hidden in the grass, and he could see circles that might have been the locations of fountains or pools.  It was obvious that Annúminas had once covered a huge area.  Frodo found himself comforted by the sight of the Brandywine, as if a piece of home had followed him north.  He retrieved paper and pens from Biscuit’s saddlebag, and soon lost himself in trying to draw the scene.

Despite the warm sun, a chill breeze began to blow, causing Frodo to shiver.

“Let us head down,” Aragorn said, getting to his feet.  “You will find the valley much warmer than it is up here.”

Still entranced by the beauty before them, Frodo nodded.  He looked back through the trees for a moment, back toward the Shire.  He felt on top of the world.  Perhaps someday he could bring Bilbo here, to see this for himself.