Long May He Reign

[Rig 17591]

 

 

 

 

"The Mortal King is only subservient to the Eternal King Malin himself, it would be unwise to dismiss his rule."

14th of the Grand Harvest, c. 1668

 

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Upon the eve of their victory the Elves return to Caras Eldar. They returned triumphant on the field from the former var Burgundar fortress known as Whitepeak. The rule of the new High Prince had proven a strong one. Thus celebrations were held with great enthusiasm. As the Virarim marched through the streets what could be heard from the citizenry were songs of ancient origin, rhythm not woven by tongue in centuries. Fireworks adorned the sun crest sky and music echoed through the Elven halls.

 

More sombre were the widows and mothers, fated never to see their dearest kin again in this life. As the soldiery indulged in festivity those unlucky few grieved for their kin. An Elven life was forever, save withering disease or the kiss of steel. There was cause that day for both great sorrow and carousel. Whatever called for the occasion nobody knew. If one had asked, none could have explained what was at truly at play until it occurred.

 

When all settled and at last the city fell silent under the cover of the night sky; the citizenry began to flood the chamber of the King. The room was garnished in green, foliage sprouted from whatever crevice allowed it’s escape. An ancient, forgotten grove of the city wedged behind the shining district of Valleinor and embraced on all sides by the sea. What was once overgrown was then trimmed to perfection. The banners of the Dominion fluttered on the salty sea breeze, large cobble braziers light.

 

The chamber stood upon the cliff-face, at the very back of which sat a great throne. It was adorned by great antlers which seemed to bore out across the end of the room to challenge any brave enough to forage the distance of the court. This wide space was now filled with Elves of all background, flooded by the fruit of the nation. And then their King approached.

 

He was clothed in finely woven jade green garments worn beneath a polished bronze cuirass and a shirt of mail, his lower body hugged by boar-skin breeches. He strode across the court in full military regalia, the falchion of Malin strapped to his side in it’s bejewelled sheathe. There across the gallery filled by his people were his council who waited, the Archdruid Abelas Caerme'onn, the Praetor Khaine Csarathaire, Primarch Dak’ir Des’Nox, all his comrades were assembled.

 

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Finally, the King knelt before his throne and the Archdruid descended to meet him at the foot of the towering Eternal Throne. The Archdruid wet his lips to speak, all held their breath in anticipation.

 

"With a unified Elvendom we require a sitting King! For too long we've been too timid to give ourselves a ruler we can rally around. Though despite this Malin is and always will be our Eternal King. But we must crown the Mortal King!"

 

With this encouragement, the Archdruid placed the thorny crown upon his brow. He stood aside, taking a place upon the dais as Kairn Ithelanen ascended to his rightful place. There the King was mere inches from his reward. He was at the forefront of both his people and his nation. There he turned to face the crowd, ushering an assurance of his own.

 

"Now I might exemplify the Eternal Throne in all its integrity -- to continue this Age of Awakening for our people and to herald the coming of great tidings."

 

"The throne is eternal, but peace is not. My vision is a unified Elvendom and the North at peace, not through war, but through acts of generosity. But that does not mean we are weak, we will not bend before the whims of lesser men and women, instead, we will act as Malin intended and be firm and strong in the face of adversity."

 

Archdruid Caerme'onn spoke again, this time at the foot of the throne.

 

"Fortune has bestowed upon us its favour, a sign from the Aspects that our cause is just. All the omens point towards only one outcome. That this Elf that stands before you, Kairn Ithelanen, is worthy enough to be the Mortal King of Elves, to sit on the throne until our Eternal King returns."

 

"It is my honour to be the one that for the first time in hundreds of years we will have a true King, blessed by the Aspects, the Mani and rules with the popularity and consent of the Elven People, the Mali'ame, Mali'ker and Mali'aheral who reside in our fair Dominion."

 

"Without further delay, with the blessing of El'Naelurir and the Dominion, I crown Kairn Ithelanen, Mortal King of Elves, to rule our people with the wisdom of the Aspects and Ancestors. To sit on the Throne until the Eternal King returns to us."

 

As Caerme'onn finished the crowd took up a rousing cheer. The Virarim, in columns on each side of the hall began to strike their shields like mighty war drums. The citizenry rejoiced for they now had a King, royalty not installed by a foreign power, but by and for the people. The seed Ithelanen stood redeemed. After hundreds of years in isolation from Malin’s Kingdom, now instead presiding over it.

 

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((Credit to Jacko

 

 

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it. 

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.