Chapter Two

Elrond entered the Hall of Fire, his strength and resolution regained, every inch an Elf-lord of the Noldor. Every face turned towards him, every pair of eyes begging for the wisdom they had so come to expect from their lord whom they trusted and loved as a father. Another wound was dealt to Elrond's heart as he knew he could do nothing to alleviate their fears. Glorfindel, Erestor, and Arwen stood at the head of the multitude, the light of the Eldar resolutely bright in their fierce gazes.

He came to a stop before the roaring fire, allowing the familiar warmth to envelop him, running one hand over the mantle and feeling the cool stone against his hand contrasted with the warmth before he began.

"My friends," he said, turning to his House, "a messenger from Mirkwood arrived earlier this day. He was gravely wounded, and his fëa has already escaped to Mandos. His message, however, was not lost." He felt his hand on the mantle beginning to shake, but he tightened his grip. "The Halfling has failed. Sauron has regained his lost Ring. Mirkwood has already grown dark, and the rest of Arda is to follow. We will not be spared."

As he had expected, the Hall was suddenly filled with gasps and cries of horror. Some looked unbelieving, others shocked into numbness. Many sat with hardened faces, neither moving nor showing any expression.

A young Elf, no more than two centuries old, stood. "Is there nothing we can do, Master?" he cried, his voice breaking.

"The Havens!" another voice shouted. "We must flee to Cirdan!"

Elrond held up a hand and silence fell immediately. "Fleeing to the Grey Havens will ensure very little," he said firmly, determined to impress this reality upon them. "The Western lands will quickly be overtaken, if it is not already so. Death awaits any who would chance that journey."

"Death awaits us here, as well!" the young Elf cried, anger inflicted in his tone. "We must take what chances we have! Awaiting our deaths or captivity here cannot be our only option!"

"Peace, young one," Glorfindel said, his voice a low rumble. The Elf's next argument died on his face as he looked upon the golden warrior, but desperation and panic seemed to overcome his sense, and he glared defiantly, though warily back.

"Though I am lord and master of this House," Elrond said loudly, commanding all attention once more, "I will not demand any actions of anyone here. You may do as you wish – I merely give council. I, however, will remain. Yet I will not wait for death here. I and those who remain with me will set up a last resistance, and we will die in battle, and so we will not be forgotten so easily. Our names will be a scourge to the Enemy, even in our defeat."

His gaze was so intense, his aura so powerful, that all were entranced by his words and could not look away, though fear and desperation were clear in their expressions.

"You may do as you will," he said, lowering his voice, allowing his gaze to fall on each of the Elves before him, all of them as children to him. Children he had been blessed with and failed to protect.

At that moment, a searing pain shot up his left arm, starting and spreading from his ring finger. A simultaneous sharp, piercing agony tore through his head, as though someone had driven a long needle through his temple. He gasped and stumbled, still clutching the mantle for support. Voices swarmed around him, and he felt someone's hands on his shoulders, pulling him up and supporting him.

Elrond blinked and looked up, breathing hard as the pain receded slightly, though leaving throbbing aches in their wake. Looking around the room, he saw that most had stood and moved forward, as though all of them wanted to catch him as he fell. Straightening completely, he swept quickly out of the room, unable to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

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A/N Sorry this one's so short. I'm having issues with… certain characters. Elrond's fighting me all the way. He wants to be sure it's done right, I just want to get it down, etcetera etcetera etcetera. Blame him, not me. He's being incredibly unhelpful, despite the bloody story is practically all about him. Ungrateful elven mutt. Review! More to come….