Concerning the westward journey of the Avari Elves into the Fangorn Forest, Kaen Eowenríel spoke with the full weight of a king's word. He declared before all that, in the name of the High Throne ofEowenría, he would stand as guarantor. Should there come a day when the Avari act unjustly toward Rohan, thenEowenría would side with the Riddermark, and those who had transgressed would be forever banished from the realm of Men.
He further pledged that Felárdë, chieftain of the Avari, would swear an oath of alliance with Rohan, to guard the northern borders as friends and kin.
King Thengel of Rohan, after long thought, accepted this proposal. Before the eyes of all, the two rulers rose, swore solemn oaths, and sealed their pact as kings of their peoples.
The covenant was written thus:
—The Avari, upon entering Fangorn, must not be provoked by Rohan. Should Rohan breach peace, Kaen held the right to annul the accord and to act in justice.
—If the Avari cause harm to Rohan's lands or folk, Kaen must stand unwaveringly beside Rohan to drive the offenders out forever.
And so the pact was signed, under the witness of the assembled kings, and sanctified by the Oath of Kings.
By this vow, Kaen staked his honor to secure a home for the Avari, a costly promise that brought him no gain save the knowledge that he had done what was right. For to Kaen, there were deeds that were not measured in advantage, but in worthiness. If his name and honor could purchase a new beginning for thousands of displaced Elves, then the price was gladly paid.
With the question of the Avari settled, there remained the greater matter—the eastward coming of the Elves of Aman.
Kaen's eyes swept the gathering, and he began to speak, his voice carrying like a quiet storm. "Since Morgoth first sowed the seeds of discord among our three kindreds, never in all the ages since have we gathered so many together under one roof. We, the free peoples of Middle-earth, stand now as one, soon to be joined by the countless Elves returning from their ancient home beyond the sea.
"Think, my lords," he said, turning toward the Elven kings, "In the First Age. Tell me, why were all the fair realms of Beleriand destroyed?"
At this, the Men and Dwarves turned their gaze toward the Elves, waiting for an answer. For a while, none spoke.
At last, Thranduil's cool voice broke the stillness. "Of Doriath's ruin, I can speak. It was wrought by the Firebeard Dwarves, who slew the Sindarin High King and led their host against us while we were unprepared."
A harsh sound cracked through the chamber. The Firebeard king, Amzar, rose, eyes blazing, but before he could retort, a steady voice cut across his anger.
"Be seated, my kinsman," said Thorin Oakenshield, his tone firm as stone. "The guilt of our forefathers is not denied. I too know of this tale. The Dwarves must have the courage to face their own wrongs."
Amzar's jaw tightened; after a long, dark breath, he sank back into his seat with a muttered growl.
Then Celeborn of old Doriath spoke, his silver hair gleaming in the firelight. "Though the Dwarves dealt us grievous wounds, it was not they who brought our final doom. The ruin came by the hands of the sons of Fëanor, who in their pride and madness turned sword against kin."
A shadow crossed Elrond's face. One of those sons,Maglor, had been his foster-father. He said nothing, but his eyes grew distant, burdened with memories best left untold.
Galadriel's gaze was sorrowful. "Compared to Morgoth's might or Sauron's deceit, our greatest foe has always been ourselves. Time and again we have given the enemy his victories through our own strife."
Then Círdan the Shipwright, eldest of all Elves remaining in Middle-earth, sighed and spoke with a voice as old as the sea. "The true downfall of the Elves did not come from the swords of foes, but from within—Elves, Men, and Dwarves alike.
"At first, we could have withstood Morgoth's hosts, yet we fought apart and were defeated one by one. Later, we united and waged Nirnaeth Arnoediad—the Battle of Unnumbered Tears,but the treachery of Easterling Men struck us from behind, and our cause perished.
"After Doriath's tragedy, the three races trusted no longer in one another. Thus, we lost our strength, and one by one, our realms fell. Only when hope was all but lost did I build a ship for Eärendil, that he might sail west and beg the Valar for pardon.
"No, it was never dragons or fire that doomed us—it was our division."
Silence fell. Many lowered their heads; others drew slow, aching breaths.
Then Kaen spoke again, his voice rising like the call of a horn in the dawn. "Through all the ages, the greatest victory of the Free Peoples against darkness was the Last Alliance. Men, Elves, and Dwarves, marched upon Mordor and besieged Barad-dûr for seven long years, until the Dark Lord himself was forced to stand and fight.
"Elendil the Faithful and Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor, met Sauron in battle and gave their lives to defeat him. That day countless heroes fell, but we prevailed. And why? Because for that brief and shining moment, the Free Peoples were united as one.
"What did Sauron's legions matter? His hosts were vast, his powers great, yet even he could not withstand our unity. His armies were scattered, his body destroyed, his spirit left to haunt the shadows!"
Kaen rose, his eyes fierce as flame. "My lords, have you not yet seen it? No single race can stand alone against the dark. Only through unity can we preserve the light that yet remains to us."
He strode forward, and his voice rolled like thunder upon the mountains.
"Have you forgotten?" he cried. "The reclaiming of Erebor, the steadfast stand at Tusgar, the long siege of Dol Guldur, and the swift war upon the Inland Sea of Rhûn—out of our fellowship were all these victories wrought! By our union were the shadows broken, and by our valor the realm of the Enemy made to tremble!"
The words struck deep, awakening something in every heart present. The kings, the wizards, even the dwarf lords felt the truth in his voice as though a spark had leapt into their very souls.
Kaen's voice softened, but it carried to every corner of the hall. "Darkness thrives because the stars shine apart. But if we become a single sun, blazing together, what shadow could ever overcome us?"
Dáin slammed his fist upon the table, rising with a roar. " My Lords! Let us stand united!"
At once, the chamber erupted in applause.
Claps echoed like rolling thunder as the lords of every race hailed Kaen's words with fervent hearts.
Saruman leaned toward Gandalf and murmured dryly, "You have wandered these lands for millennia, preaching unity wherever you went—and yet, this one speech from Kaen has done more than all your counsel combined."
Gandalf's eyes glimmered, but he said nothing.
Kaen raised his hand, and the applause stilled. He looked around the table, his gaze sweeping across Elf and Man, Dwarf and Wizard alike.
"In light of all we have spoken," he said, "I have a proposal. Let us form a permanent alliance, a bond that endures beyond this age. Against the shadow, we must stand as one.
"And where disputes arise between our peoples, we shall resolve them as allies, not foes. Even now, as the Elves return from the West, the northern Dúnedain must not be made to yield their heritage. They too must be given recompense and honor."
He paused, and in the stillness that followed, the weight of his vision settled upon them all—a vision that would shape the fate of Middle-earth for ages to come.