The Third-Age of Celador

The Third-Age of Celador

And the Vaelorian Realm of Lorien's Grace

Part One

The Black Prince & The Starlight Prince

It was the late hours of the morning of the twenty-seventh day of November, twenty-five fifty-two of the third-age of Celador, according to Lorien's reckoning, as the bright golden sun was high above the huge settlement of Ithildor's Gate, in the Vaelorian Realm of Lorien's Grace. The bright, high sun cast a golden, orenge, and yellow autumn glow over the settlement as Jonafan the Black Prince of Ithildor's Gate made his way up the dark grey and blue cobblestone path from the centre of the settlement, heading towards the grand gold, silver, and light green wooden gates of the ancient and historic castle of Tirn Aran'dor.

Jonafan, of House Grimshield, the Black Prince of Ithildor's Gate and the Realm of Lorien's Grace, the Guardian Shield of the Eternal Forest, the Stormborn Prince of the Arcane Flame, the Wavestrider of the Tempest Sea, the Hero of the War of the Broken Kings, and son of the King of Lorien's Grace, King Finrod. He is a six-foot-one, four hundred forty-two year old Vaelorian male, born in the year twenty-one-ten of the second age of Celador. He has light brown skin, very short, unkempt dark black hair, and a thick black beard, with hints of silver and grey hair throughout both, and deep brown eyes, with silver around the edge. The Vaelorian race is an ancient race believed to have been around for thousands of years before the first age of Celador and one of the three immortal races of Celador.

The War of the Broken Kings, though brief compared to the thousands of years of history in Celador, with the war lasting just under two years, was marked by unprecedented and devastating bloodshed, leaving no corner and no kingdom of Celador untouched. This fierce and desperate conflict saw a united alliance of Men, Vaelorians, Elves, Isu, and Dwarves fighting against the three broken Orc Kings, Tidgug Gruk'koth, Rilug Krash'grah, and Juukhag Throk'gar. Their massive and well-armed Orc armies, augmented by smaller, but very fearsome Goblin and Troll contingents, brought devastation to the land.

The seeds of the war had been sown long before its official start, as tensions between the Orcs and the other five main races had festered and soured for years. Hostilities erupted into full-scale war when the three Orc Kings launched a brutal and devastating assault, attacking and slaughtering the inhabitants of four Dwarven and three Elven border settlements. Their advance was relentless, pushing all the way to the Dwarven capital of Frosthammer before the alliance managed to halt their progress and push them back to the border, before pushing into Orc lands.

The conflict reached its apocalyptic climax in the year twenty-five forty-four with the death of the final Orc King, Juukhag Throk'gar, at the Battle of Morgdurg, the Orc's main city. This decisive battle not only marked the end of the war but also concluded the Second Age of Celador. The alliance forces, led by King Finrod and his sons, achieved victory with Jonafan commanding the vanguard in the final, decisive assault. Jonafan is one of three children of the King and Queen of Lórien's Grace, King Finrod, and Queen Helariven. Both of his brothers are older, with Carwyn, the Vale Prince of Nimbrethil, being eight hundred sixty-one years old, and Durwell, the Sea Prince of Elenlond, being seven hundred seventy-two years old.

Jonafan was wearing the traditional clothing of a Vaelorian prince and the Realm of Lórien's Grace, a long dark forest green silk tunic with outlines of bronze and silver, and black trousers. He has a pure Vaelorian white silver circlet with emerald green, ruby red, and sapphire blue gem stones encrusted around it, with a solid asscher cut diamond at its centre. He was wearing a pair of light grey boots that finished just above his ankles. He was carrying two legendary Vaelorian weapons, a bow called 'The Moonlight Bow', and an axe called 'The Mountain's Might'.

The long cobblestone path leading up to Tirn Aran'dor castle was lined with the unique pink and white Lunarisa tree and the yellow and gold Elderglow tree, which can only be found in Ithildor's Gate. And dotted along the path are the flags and banners of Ithildor's Gate, which consisted of a light teal blue background with a Lunarisa and Elderglow tree in the middle with silver stars above. The cobblestone path follows the fast-flowing, luminous blue river of Ithilwyn, which flowed down past Tirn Aran'dor through the centre of Ithildor's Gate and over the edge of the cliff of Tionlach, disappearing into the mists of the valley of Luminara below.

As Jonafan strolled up the winding cobblestone path leading toward Tirn Aran'dor, he paused for a moment, his gaze drawn to the magnificent silver and emerald stadium towering above him, the jousting stadium of Eldrhall of the Moon. The grand stadium is the largest in all of Lorien's Grace and the entire of Celador itself. Eldrhall of the Moon is a symbol of pride and honour, hosting nearly all of the realm's most prestigious jousting tournaments. The main competition, the King's Invitational, is the biggest and grandest event of the year and is held annually on the twentieth day of June, with Jonafan winning it for the past seven consecutive years.

As Jonafan walked towards Tirn Aran'dor castle, he absently played with a bronze-coloured ring hanging from a thin silver necklace around his neck that had a bright orange and yellow engraving on it in ancient Vaelorian writing. 'Ir le caul, híni am úg', in the tongues of man, means, 'When you are in need, I will be found'. He passed a few bakery huts on his way up who were preparing the delicious Vaelorian breads, Lembasil and Amin Mornëa. As Jonafan approached the gates of Tirn Aran'dor, he looked up high to the spires of the castle and saw owls of every conceivable shape, size, and colour flying about, some sleek and small, others grand and ruffled, as they flew around the gold and green spires.

Jonafan approached the colossal gold, silver, and green wooden gates of Tirn Aran'dor castle, which were flanked by two imposing solid stone towers. The gates began to creak and groan open, responding to the commands of the Vaelorian gate guards. He walked through the entrance and into the bustling courtyard of Amrothiel as the solid wooden doors slammed shut close behind him. The courtyard was filled with an array of wildflowers of all sizes and colours, and at the centre of the courtyard was the massive white tree Galadorn, with silver and pink leaves. Jonafan made his way through the courtyard, heading towards the Library of the Druids, located on the far left of Tirn Aran'dor, to meet his betrothed, Timmofie.

Timmofie of House Starkwoods, the future Starlight Prince of Ithildor's Gate and the Realm of Lorien's Grace, the Guardian of the Eternal Blossom, the Prince of the Luminous Vale, and the Darkstar of the Moonlit Realm. He is a five-foot-seven, three hundred ninety-five year-old male Isu, born in the year twenty-one fifty-seven of the second age of Celador. He has beautiful pure white silk smooth skin, short dirty blonde hair in a wolf cut, and a small amount of light brown freckles over his nose, cheeks, and forehead. But the most standout part of his body are his deep sapphire blue eyes with hints of green and brown on the edges.

The Isu race, much like the Vaelorian's, are an ancient race dating back thousands of years before the first age and one of the three immortal races along with the Elves. Yet, the Isu stand apart from all other known beings, and unlike any other race, they are a single-sex species composed entirely of males. The Isu's method of reproduction is both unique and sacred to them, known as the Gwaithfëatir.

This extraordinary event occurs only when one of the Isu male's falls deeply, irrevocably in love with his chosen mate, bonding him to his mate for life. Over the first six weeks, the Isu's body undergoes a remarkable transformation, allowing him to conceive, carry, birth, and feed his child, while becoming almost female in appearance. An Isu male who undergoes the Gwaithfëatir has the unique ability to maintain his body in its female form, even after giving birth to their child.

Jonafan and Timmofie had been friends for over a century, long before the War of the Broken Kings started. Yet, it was in the final, harrowing and desperate days of the war that their long loving close friendship changed into a romantic one. The turning point came during the Battle of Krauk'ndur. Timmofie, along with several other Isu, Vaelorian, Dwarves, Elfs, and Men, had been taken prisoner and taken to the Orc stronghold city of Krauk'ndur after their medical convoy was ambushed while transporting the wounded and fallen of the Battle of Vale Valley.

Held in a dark dungeon beneath Krauk'ndur, Timmofie endured three days and nights of relentless torture at the hands of the orcs. Jonafan rallied and led an allied force to save Timmofie and the others. The allied force outnumbered the orcs six to one in the city, making their assault on the dungeon beneath both swift and decisive. It was in this rescue that Jonafan and Timmofie's feelings for each other were finally revealed, and this was the place they first kissed. It took Timmofie many months of pain and struggle to regain his strength, both physically and mentally, after his torture, with Jonafan helping with his recovery. Though Timmofie still carries some of the scars of his torture, both physically and mentally, even to this day.

Jonafan made his way through the array of empty corridors of Tirn Aran'dor towards the historic and ancient Library of the Druids. Within the library are books, scrolls, and parchments hundreds and thousands of years old, dating back to the very first years of the Realm of Lórien's Grace and Celador itself, written by people of all races. As he walked, he suddernly stopped by a dusty old canvas, its colours had long faded by its age. The canvas told the story of a legendary clash, with three Vaelorian warriors and two mysterious wizards fighting a colossal, black-scaled dragon with dark red eyes. His hand traced over the painting, with his thumb brushing away the layers of thick dust that had built up over the years, revealing the enscribed words hidden beneath it, 'The Legend of the Black Dragon'.

Jonafan traced his fingers over the dusty frame one last time before continuing towards the library. As he approached the library's heavy green and gold double wooden doors, he began singing in a silent whisper the Vaelorian song, 'Canta i Lómenna Lóte'. "Néren i neldë, Mela lórië yéva, Fainë tanya, Fírië mornië. Elen sila lumenn, Ailínë i hlarë, I chenda, elenion, Tendë ne menel."

In the tounges of men it reads, the 'Song of the Windblown Trees'. "In the glade where whispers sigh, Dancing leaves reach for the sky, A gentle breeze, a soft embrace, Nature's breath in sacred space. A star shines upon the way, Sing the song of the trees, The branches, of the stars, Hold fast to the sky." It's an ancient and important cutrual song in the Realm of Lorien's Grace. It is sung just as the leaves turn brown and red and start to fall from the trees in the autumn every year.

Jonafan pushed open the heavy wooden green and gold doors of the library, which was normally filled with the noise of many archivists, scribes, researchers, and historians busy with their work, but today the library was unusially quiet and empty. He made his way up the centre of the library, past the many empty tables, towards the back of the library next to the grand black and bronze spiral staircase. The staircase led up to the second floor, which was filled with rare books, parchments, and letters and was where Timmofie often studied.

Jonafan climbed the bronze staircase to the second floor and looked around until he finally spotted Timmofie, sitting next to a mountain of books in the corner by a massive window that overlooked the valley of Luminara below. Timmofie was wearing traditional colours of a Vaelorian princess, a silver silk tunic with dark blue outlines that fell down to his hips, dark grey trousers, and light brown boots. He had a pure white silver circlet on his head, which had a few small ruby-red gems encrusted around it. He was sitting with his back to Jonafan, reading the book 'The Legendary Beasts of Celador' written by Jonafan himself over one hundred and fifty years ago. Timmofie's fingers were slowly tracing along the brown parchment pages as he read out loud to himself, his voice echoing around the empty library.

"The Moon Deer, a majestic deer with silver antlers that seems to capture and reflect the moonlight. Its fur is pale and luminescent, changing shades with the phases of the moon. It's habitat is mainly forests and moonlit clearings. It symbolises grace and tranquility. Its presence is said to bring peace and clarity to those who see it." Timmofie recited to himself as unbeknown to him, Jonafan approached silently and unnoticed as he continued to read. "The Star Fox, a graceful fox with a coat that shimmers like the night sky, with patterns resembling constellations. It's known for its intelligence and ability to navigate by starlight. Often associated with guidance and wisdom." He finished while smiling to himself.

"It took me two weeks, hiding in trees, bushes, and any foliage I could find, to trace that moon deer back to its den," Jonafan confessed from behind Timmofie, placing his hands on Timmofie's shoulders. But Jonafan's sudden appearance and touch caused Timmofie to startle a little with a sharp gasp as he looked behind him. "I named her Caladiruth, the light of the night," Jonafan continued, squeezing Timmofie's shoulders slightly before adding. "And the less we talk about that bloody, star fox, the better, I had to track that thing for months on and off," he added with a sigh, before noticing Timmofie's shock. "I'm sorry, did I scare you, Timmofie? I didn't mean to." Jonafan asked, stroking his fingers through Timmofie's hair gently.

Timmofie quickly shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine. You just made me jump a little, Jonafan, that's all." He reassured Jonafan, though his heart was still racing in his chest, and he was breathing a little faster than normal. "And a very good morning to you, my love," he added, as he kissed Jonafan softly on his lips.

Jonafan leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of Timmofie's head, his fingers tracing a slow, affectionate path down Timmofie's upper arms over a few now faded scars and marks, until his hands came to rest gently on his hips. "Good morning, my love," Jonafan whispered, placing another kiss against Timmofie's cheek, before his hands quickly moved up to Timmofie's chest, squeezing his nipples gently, causing Timmofie's to giggle as he kissed and bit Timmofie's neck repeatedly. "Why is there nobody in here today, Timmofie? It's normally packed in this library," he asked.

Timmofie nestled closer to Jonafan, his body relaxing into Jonafan's warm embrace as Jonafan's fingers ran through his hair. "Mmmm, oh, it's the last Friday of the month," he mumbled, moaning slightly, his eyes half-closed as he savoured each kiss and gently bit from Jonafan. "That means the archivists, scribes, researchers, and historians are gathering today. Their monthly meeting at the Hall of Mithrandir."

After a few quiet moments of Jonafan kissing and biting his neck, Timmofie's eyes dropped down to the book on the oak table, his fingers tracing over the aged brown parchment pages, before he just as quickly turned back to Jonafan. "Do you miss it?" he asked softly. "Exploring Celador, I mean. Walking through its kingdoms, meeting its people, wandering along its rivers, lakes, forests, and mountains?" he asked.

Jonafan pulled out the chair next to Timmofie and sat beside him. "Ah, sometimes yes," he admitted with a slight smile, before he hesitated slightly before carrying on. "But my father," Jonafan paused, collecting his thoughts before he continued. "Forgive me, King Finrod, he granted me my wish to rule over Ithildor's Gate and its surrounding lands, the forests of Lothenor, Rivendellon, and Amonlas. My duty to Ithildor's Gate and to the Realm of Lórien's Grace comes first." As he spoke, Jonafan placed his hand on Timmofie's inner thigh and squeezed gently. It brought instant warmth and a tingling sensation throughout Timmofie's body.

Timmofie's hand moved slowly, resting gently on top of Jonafan's with a soft touch. "And what about me, Jonafan?" he asked in a whisper.

Jonafan's eyebrows furrowed slightly in a mild confusion, with his head tilting as he looked at Timmofie. "What about you, Timmofie?" he replied.

"You used to travel alone across Celador," Timmofie began, as his eyes dropping to his feet. "You documented every creature in the wilds, spent years tracking them, learning their ways. And now..." he hesitated, his voice trembling. "Now you're stuck here in Ithildor's Gate, with me," he finished, tears now welling in his eyes.

Jonafan was hurt by his words, and in an instant, he rose from his chair and kneeled between Timmofie's legs, his hands resting gently on Timmofie's thighs. I'm not stuck here with you," Jonafan whispered, before pulling Timmofie into a passionate kiss. He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Timmofie's tear-filled eyes. "After the war, and after what happened to you..." He paused, his thumb tenderly wiping away a tear that had escaped down Timmofie's cheek. "I didn't just ask, I begged my father, to let me stay and rule over Ithildor's Gate. I wanted to be here with you to take care of you. I chose this life because I love you, Timmofie," Jonafan finished, as he kissed him again, more deeply this time, with all the love he could pour into it.

Timmofie gasped between the passionate kisses, his fingers tangling and tugging gently at Jonafan's hair, pulling him closer. "I love you more, Jonafan," he breathed and panted into Jonafan's mouth. "I love you more, babe."

Jonafan laughed softly, pressing his lips to Timmofie's neck, kissing and biting him before teasing, "You taste nice, Timmofie."

The comment made Timmofie snort loudly. "And you always taste nice, Jonafan," he replied, pulling Jonafan's face up so they were eye to eye before leaning in to brush his tongue teasingly against Jonafan's lips, before taking him into a deep kiss.

After a few minutes of their passionate, intense kissing, with Timmofie now sitting on Jonafan's lap as he slowly grinded on him, with his arms wrapped around Jonafan's neck and shoulders, Jonafan's mind gradually shifted back to the reason that had brought him to the Library of the Druids in the first place. "Timmofie, I know you normally spend your Fridays reading and researching here in the library," Jonafan whispered into Timmofie's ear, which upset Timmofie because the kissing stopped. "But would you like to join me in Aelin's Embrace?" he asked.

The sprawling settlement of Aelin's Embrace is the only settlement in the Vaelorian Realm of Lórien's Grace that is ruled solely over by the race of men. Abandoned long ago during the second age by the Vaelorians, before it was refounded by the man, Halion Eldaric after the War of the Broken Kings had ended.

"Aelin's Embrace, huh?" Timmofie replied with a soft giggle, pulling Jonafan closer into a tight squeeze before pressing a kiss onto his. He leaned back just enough to meet Jonafan's dark brown eyes with his bright blue eyes. "Yes, I'd love to go with you to Aelin's Embrace," he said. "But you're buying, and I want a sweet treat, a few actually," Timmofie added with a mischievous smile, playfully nudging Jonafan.

Leaning in, Jonafan pressed a series of soft kisses on Timmofie's freckle-dusted forehead, cheek, and nose, each one drawing a light, infectious giggle from Timmofie. "Deal," Jonafan agreed happily. "I'll go get the horses ready. But wrap up warm, okay? It's going to get cold later," he added, sealing the deal with a tender, soft kiss on Timmofie's lips before turning to leave. Timmofie watched Jonafan go, smiling while biting his lip slightly with a hint of shyness. His eyes were fixed on Jonafan disappearing down the bronze staircase and from the Library of the Druids.