It's real short. But whatevs. This isn't a great intro, but I just dropped boiling water on my hand, what do you want from me?
None of them were close enough to see it, save Gandalf. When Galadriel brought the Necromancer down, his form taking shape enough to fall on his pitch-black knees, it was Elrond who was there, glowing with the Maiar blood that coursed through him, eyes bright and face grim. He wielded his sword in one hand and the Spear of Aeglos in the other. He thrust the spear into the Necromancer with a roar, driving it right the shadow's heart.
"For Gil-galad," screamed Elrond, letting go of the spear as its shaft pierced through the shadow flesh, a high keening noise greeting their eyes. The shadow began to dissipate as Sauron roared in agony. "For Ereinion!"
They all heard his Elrond's cry; Galadriel closed her eyes and dipped her head slightly, as if is in acknowledgment, while Saruman's gaze sharpened and his nostrils flared with suspicion. The other Elf-lords and Radagast had long retreated, but Gandalf wouldn't be surprised if they'd heard too, from wherever their safe place was.
What Galadriel didn't see- for once- and Saruman was too consumed with whatever it was that he was feeling were the tears that slipped from Elrond's gray eyes and tracked through the grime on his face as the Nercomancer disappeared for good, dissolving into mist.
"It's over," panted Elrond, turning away from them. "We're done."
"For now," said Gandalf.
Still, an evil had been lifted from that place, and Gandalf felt good as they left.
My hand feels quite painful.