Middle Earth: High King of The Avari

The 200th year of the Sun in the First Age began with a tense morning in the royal city of the Avari. Anórien sat upon his throne, his golden-red hair catching the light of the dawn that streamed through the high windows. Galadriel sat beside him, serene yet watchful. Their moment of calm was interrupted when Nendril, Lord of the Cuind, stormed into the throne room.

"My King," Nendril said, his tone urgent. "A great infestation of spiders has taken root in the forest near our borders. They grow bold, attacking travelers and scouts. If left unchecked, they could threaten the realm itself."

Anórien's expression hardened. The Avari had fought long and hard to carve out their haven in Taur-im-Duinath, and he would not allow any threat to jeopardize it. "Spiders have plagued this forest before," he said grimly, rising from his throne. "We will deal with them, as we always have."

Galadriel turned to him, her eyes soft but resolute. "Be cautious, my love. Spiders of this size and ferocity are no ordinary foe. Take only the best of our warriors."

Anórien nodded and issued the command. One hundred of the finest warriors of the Avari, including his son Arinyanénar, were summoned to join the expedition.

As the company prepared to depart, Galadriel stood at the gates to bid them farewell. She placed a hand on Arinyanénar's cheek, her silvery grey eyes filled with worry. "Be careful, my son," she said softly. "You have the strength of your father and the wisdom of your lineage, but do not underestimate the darkness that dwells in the forest."

Arinyanénar nodded, his youthful face determined. "I will not fail you, Mother."

Galadriel then turned to Anórien, placing a hand on his chest. "Return to me safely," she whispered.

Anórien leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Always," he promised. Then, with a final glance at his wife, he mounted his horse and led the company into the dense, shadowed woods.

The journey to the infested forest was uneventful but foreboding. Thick webs stretched between the trees, shimmering like ghostly veils in the dim light. The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the air became, carrying the stench of decay.

"Stay vigilant," Anórien commanded. Solarion rested in his hand, the faint glow of its golden shaft casting away some of the encroaching darkness.

The first spiders appeared without warning, bursting from the shadows with terrifying speed. The battle began in earnest as the Avari warriors formed a defensive line, their weapons gleaming as they struck.

The forest erupted into chaos. Spiders the size of wolves lunged at the warriors, their legs clicking and fangs dripping venom. The Avari fought with precision and discipline, their spears and swords slicing through the creatures' dark carapaces.

Anórien was a force of nature, his spear Solarion blazing with golden light as it cleaved through the monsters. Each strike sent a wave of radiant energy, burning the spiders and illuminating the battlefield. Beside him, Arinyanénar fought valiantly, his sword cutting through the legs and bodies of the creatures with skill beyond his years.

But the spiders were relentless, their numbers overwhelming. For every creature they slew, more seemed to emerge from the shadows, their shrieks filling the air.

As the battle raged on, the ground trembled beneath them. From the depths of the forest came a spider unlike any they had faced before. Her massive form towered over the warriors, her legs gnarled like ancient trees, and her eyes burned with an unholy light.

The monstrous spider screeched, a sound that rattled even the bravest of hearts. Her gaze fell upon Arinyanénar, and with terrifying speed, she lunged at him.

"Arinyanénar!" Anórien shouted as his son barely dodged the creature's massive fangs.

The young prince raised his sword and struck at the spider, but her hide was thick, his blade leaving only shallow cuts. She retaliated, swiping at him with her legs and forcing him to retreat.

Pinned against a tree, Arinyanénar fought with everything he had, but the spider's strength and speed were too great. She pinned him with one of her massive legs, raising her venomous fangs for the killing blow.

"Enough!" Anórien roared, his voice filled with the authority of the High King.

He stepped forward, Solarion raised high, its light intensifying until it blazed like the noonday sun. Anórien invoked the full power of the spear, his voice resonating with the fury of Arien herself.

"Solar Fury!"

A blinding wave of golden flame erupted from Solarion, engulfing the battlefield in a storm of radiant fire. The lesser spiders were incinerated instantly, their shrieks of agony silenced in the blaze. Even the massive spider could not withstand the onslaught. Her form burned brightly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.

The light faded, and the forest fell silent. The charred remains of the spiders littered the ground, the air thick with the scent of ash. Anórien knelt beside Arinyanénar, who was bruised but alive.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Arinyanénar shook his head. "No, Father. Thank you."

Anórien placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his expression both stern and proud. "You fought well, but remember—strength alone is not enough. It is wisdom and unity that will lead us to victory."

Arinyanénar nodded, determination burning in his silver-golden eyes. "I will remember."

As the company made their way back to the capital, the Avari warriors carried the weight of the battle with them. Anórien, riding beside his son, looked ahead to the future, his heart filled with both pride and resolve. The darkness had been vanquished, but the light of their people would need to burn ever brighter in the days to come.