Bitter Victory
Rating: K+ – just to be safe for tears, mention of battle, and the foretelling of a tragedy.
Summary: The time comes when Ereinion Gil-galad prepares for the final battle on the slopes of Orodruin. He realizes that not all that he wishes to be will necessarily become true, but gives the knowledge and power to live beyond a tragedy to another.
A/N: All righty, FFnet was being incredibly annoying with my first posting, Soldiers & Heroes. For those of you who read it, hannon le, and hopefully when you read it there were two parts, but posted on the same page. Yes, there is two chapters. For those of you who haven't read it, read it please! ; )
Also, there will be a sequel to this piece called In Mordor Where the Shadows Are. It will be coming soon to a computer near you. So, more than likely if you like this piece you will like the next one better. I, honestly, like the sequel better than the prequel. Hannon le for stopping by!
-ArcherGal2932
One
Very faintly I felt the presence of someone at my doorway. I looked up from buckling on my gleaming armor, and my spirits rose.
Elrond.
"Come in, mellon-nín."
My raven-haired Elven herald strode in, and bowed deeply. I waved it off, not wishing to stand upon formality when it was just the two of us. But when Elrond stood, he was grinning from ear to ear. I frowned. What in the name of Ilúvatar does he have to grin about in the middle of war?
"Yes, Elrond?" I inquired, still puzzled at his beaming look.
"My lord, I bring great tidings from the front. We have repelled Mordor's forces to the brink of destruction, and they are fighting on the slopes of Orodruin itself!"
My heart leapt. "That is wonderful news! Here, take a glass, and we shall toast to our victory!"
I handed him a goblet of wine and we saluted each other, cups clanking together.
"To victory." I announced quietly, my voice rich yet soft and ringing with confidence.
"To victory!" Elrond shouted happily.
Laughing, we each drunk to triumph, and we sank into two light chairs that sat in my tent. Even the stifling Mordor air did not dampen our spirits now. All those hard years of fighting are about to be paid off, Gil-galad…
"I see you are anxious for battle, my lord," Elrond commented. I chuckled, glancing down at my golden armor and the radiant blue silk draped across my lithe frame.
"I am more than ready to fight, Elrond," I said softly, a sigh escaping my lips. "To be able to vanquish the enemy once and for all will be a wonderful victory. I cannot bear waiting any longer. When this war is over, I…"
My voice abruptly trailed off. My hands went limp, and the cup in my hand hit the floor with a resounding crash. I stared dumbly at the spilled wine on the floor. Without warning I hurtled through darkness so complete that my sharp eyes could not pierce it. I was blind, thrashing in the void against an invisible attacker that held my arms and legs still so I could not move. I struggled against whatever confined me, desperate to get loose and get away from wherever I was.
What makes you think you will live through this, Ereinion Gil-galad?
A voice startled me out of the gloom. I retreated backwards, for suddenly I could move. Thoroughly confused, I answered anyway:
We are on the threshold of victory; it will not be long before we win-
Ah, this is true, but what makes you believe that you will survive, even if there is victory?
I clenched my fists in anger.
I will not die! I am an Elven-king, High King of the Noldor, son of Fingon who rescued Maedhros from the cliffs! I am the grandson of the one who dealt Morgoth seven wounds before he was slain! I WILL NOT DIE!
But the little voice speaking terrified me with its next words.
This is true, but fate is not yours to choose, immortal one. Just because you will it to be does not mean that it will happen.
I froze. With a gasp I realized that it was my own voice that was challenging me.
Fight with honor, Gil-galad. Not with arrogance.
No, no, I cannot die. This is all a dream. It has to be. It MUST be. Oh, Valar, I never thought…
I could feel Elrond's concerned touch upon my shoulder.
"Gil-galad! Gil-galad, what ails you? Please, speak, my lord!"
Elrond's voice sounded distant at first, and at last I could see through the haze of smoke before my eyes.
My heart plummeted when I saw Elrond quaking before me, seemingly terrified half to death. I suddenly fingered Vilya on my right hand.
"Do you know what this is, Elrond?" I whispered in a shaking voice. My eyes stared blankly at a tent wall until I at last brought them to rest in my friend's gaze.
"Gil-galad-"
"Do you know what this is?" I said sharply, slipping the ring from my hand and holding it up in the light.
Elrond studied it, and then shook his head. "'Tis a ring, yet I know not of what importance it is."
I smiled faintly. "It is Vilya, Ring of Air. One of the Three, one of the three great rings made for the Elves. It will be in your keeping, Elrond, while we fight. I trust you will use its power wisely in the future. I cannot be with you to provide you counsel beyond this battle, but I trust you will use your knowledge."
Elrond appeared surprised, almost delighted, but almost immediately confusion and horror slid across the herald's face.
"Gil-galad, you cannot speak of…of death that will meet you on the battle-field…" he breathed in disbelief.
I quietly interrupted him, my voice calm and quiet. "Yes, death is of what I speak."
"But-"
"I am sorry, Elrond. I truly am mellon-nín. But I know it in my heart that I will not survive beyond this battle."
Elrond stared at me, searching my eyes for any signs of a joke, or a hint of a lie in my soul. But when he found none, I watched painfully as tears filled his sea-gray eyes.
"Oh, Gil-galad…"
Gently I placed Vilya into his palm and closed his nimble fingers over it. "Keep it safe," I whispered, fighting back my own tears. "I will always be with you, in your heart."
Elrond gazed down at his closed fist and then turned his eyes upon me. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then, Elrond threw his arms about my neck, and I could feel his shoulders shaking in convulsions.
"Ever since you took my brother and me in, after you rescued us, I have always viewed you as a brother, Gil-galad. I knew mine so briefly, for five centuries passed too fast. A bitter victory this will be without you, gwador-nín." Elrond's voice was soft and full of grief.
I closed my eyes and remembered the Elfling twins my house had taken in and raised along with myself. One was long gone already. He had chosen the path of mortality. But the other I had known was strong from the beginning. I had been drawn the child, and we became the closest of friends, as the brightness in his sea-gray eyes only hinting at his abilities as an apt learner and one always wanting to play warriors, or recreate the tale of Beleg Cúthalion and Túrin Turamabar with his brother and I. I was only a century older than him, but I taught him everything he wished to know as I learned it myself. That Elf now stood before me, my herald, my heir, and the one who was now in possession of one of the most powerful rings in Arda.
"I know, Elrond, I know."
Your life will not be in vain, Gil-galad, as long as Middle-earth is saved because of your death. Be strong, High King of the Noldor, be strong for your friends during this last stand for peace.
No longer able to control the pain that was wreaking havoc in my heart from the knowledge that my immortal life would be cut to an abrupt end only hours away, I laid my head on Elrond's shoulder, and wept for all that could have been.
The End
A/N: Once again, hannon le for reading and don't forget to review! The sequel will be along shortly.
Until then, Namárië.
-ArcherGal2932