Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me.

Author Note: The plot and storyline for this sequel is likely to be complicated and I do need tp spend some time setting the background for events.

"Being a great father is like shaving. No matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow. "

-- Reed Markham

Dark Power Arising

Chapter 2 – Of Dynasties and Fatherhood

The night sky over the valley, which had been a clear, but deep purple velvet not minutes before had darkened considerably. Roiling violet and red-hued clouds tumbled over the surface of the yellow harvest moon, painting it with a wash of red. The sawtooth skyline of the surrounding Tatras Mountains, part of the Carpathians stood in sharp relief.

It was not a night to be outside, certainly not at this time of year and only very few of the most foolhardy of tourists were inclined to spend time in these mountains which could prove treacherous in winter weather. The scientists who came to study the mountains, flora and fauna were a different breed altogether, but even they forsook the area during the depths of winter. This part of the mountains could be most inhospitable and given to sudden storms.

In the year 2004, a large part of the forests clinging to the lower reaches of the mountain range were severely affected by a wind storm, the like of which had never been seen before. Millions of cubic metres of trees were uprooted in the storm in which there were at least two casualties which also resulted in several of the more remote villages being cut off.

Not that the villages particularly noticed the difference of course, since they were generally cut off from the rest of civilisation anyway. The folk of those villages did not encourage strangers to visit. It had been that way for at least six centuries and perhaps even before that time. Nobody but the elders of the village knew how long. In general they had – and still did - graze sheep on the land and there had been many productive mines. In the Dark Ages they lived in a feudal society, at the centre of which was the ruling Prince or King to whom they swore fealty as their Lord.

And up there, in the isolation of the mountains where the snow cut them off for months at a time and the temperatures dropped to minus forty degrees, nothing had changed all that much. In their mountain fastness and forts, the Princes and noblemen of the ruling part of that society still lived. The only difference being that they had all the advantages and devices of the modern world to ease their way.

They still demanded unswerving obedience expected from vassal to Lord. Once a year the village elders still travelled to the fortresses and offered their tithes to the ruling Lord. They ruled by fear and a strict hierarchy of rank which led to a predominantly static social structure in which every man knew his place, according to whom it was that he owed service and from whom it was that he received his land.

It was such an individual who stood on the stone balcony of the mountain fastness he, among many others, lived in and watched the growing signs of massive storm.

He didn't mind. He enjoyed the violence of the storm. It was in such a storm that he had been birthed by the wish of his own Mistress so many years ago now that he had lost count. The storm could rage as it wished. He felt part of it and it delighted him to see that others feared the elements.

He could hear the sounds of the guard being changed in the courtyard well below him, such was the sensitivity of his hearing. In the olden days they would have been armed with swords, axes and other mediaeval weaponry In fact the massive crossbows used six centuries ago that fired four heavy duty bolts at a time were still in their original emplacements, although rarely used now. However these days it was more likely to be P90 automatic weapons and Kalashnikovs, although the older members of the household still mourned the demise of the ancient weapons.

It really didn't matter to him what was used to deal wholesale death, in addition to extensive knowledge of modern weaponry and how to use it he was also an excellent swordsman and his knife work was unrivalled. To him the more death and carnage the weapon dealt out and the swifter it dealt it, the better it was and the more satisfying for his tastes.

A little further down below him but still above the courtyard, through a series of arched window openings in the sheer cliff wall diagonally opposite to him he could see lights and hear sounds of feasting and raucous laughter, for tonight was a feast day celebrating the Lady and her long rule. It would, as it always did, of course eventually denigrate to nothing but a sprawl of bodies indulging in the basest of carnal activities. Later in the day when dusk fell, cavalcades of the privileged would travel down the mountainside to the lower reaches where helicopters awaited them to take them away from their secluded fortresses and into 'polite' society where they would spend the majority of the winter months in decadent play, only to return in the springtime.

His nostrils flared and wrinkled in disgust. They disported themselves, kept their society apart from the society of the day and had become decadent while ancient enemies walked freely among the mortals and gathered their power to them. He had often spoken of this at the councils and been shouted down and ridiculed in front of the Elders. So while the enemy grew powerful, they fiddled and danced while the wood was placed around their feet and the torches were being primed.

He sank to his haunches, a solitary watchful figure there on that balcony, and cast his sharp gaze about the world far below him. They were out there also watching, probably even watching him as he watched them. He could feel that warning quivering in his senses that warned of their presence. Only the modern long range weaponry installed in the fortess kept them at bay, but he knew for sure through his contacts that old adversaries were gathering strength in a modern mortal world that no longer cared or even believed that ancient darknesses still existed. They also had a vast advantage over him and his kind in that they could walk in the light of day, however his kind had also grown weak and careless as the centuries drew on...they no longer kept their instincts as hunters honed and this was not a good thing. In their time they had been formidable, but were now just a mere shadow of their former power.

But soon...soon their Lady would awaken and surely she would make them see. He could sense her stirring in her long sleep. It was almost time, just another century or two, but he wondered whether that might be too late. Would it be so wrong to awaken her a little early? He sighed, entrance to the chamber of the Elders was open to only senior members of the council and he was not one of them. Not yet and not for the forseeable future, his kind were longlived and a current council member would have to die to leave an opening. Yet he could find a way in, even just to seek advice, but it would be utter madness, absolute folly to even try and a painful death would serve no purpose. He would have to find another way.

A roll of thunder from behind the mountains echoed through the valley. The threatened storm was obviously almost there. The clouds were now black and had completely obliterated the moon. The only thing missing was the heavy raindrops that usually preceded the spectacular light show of a typical thunder and lightning storm. That was an unusual occurrence, but to the figure standing a lonely watch on the uppermost reaches of a mountain fastness, it seemed like a sign of some significance...a herald of changes to come and humankind, busy going about its humdrum life was about to experience some major upheaval of the most violent kind.

He chuckled and then stopped dead as a thought occurred to him. There was one they said whose power in the modern mortal world was rising If his own kind would not listen to him, then perhaps this person would.

So it was that a decision was made which would impact on all the creatures inhabiting this world, sentient or not. He would leave tomorrow with the others when they left for the glamorous places, but he would not disport himself. He would seek out those who would aid him in the ancient battle he knew was forthcoming.

Indeed he would.

ooOoo

The Residence of Brigadier Gary Matthews and Kim Matthews, Hampshire, England

"Don't wanna."

Gary Matthews aka Eonwe, Herald of Manwe and Brigadier in the British Army met his daughter's horrific scowl with equanimity.

"Why not? This is your favourite." He coaxed desperately as he pushed the plate back to her. "Mummy said it was."

The little girl's scowl grew even deeper if that was at all possible and she folded her small arms in front of her. The lower lip, normally half of a charming rosebud, was thrust out alarmingly and a pool of tears threatened to overflow from the cornflower blue, black lashed eyes.

"Mummy doesn't do it like that." She said stubbornly and pushed the plate away petulantly. "I want Mummy."

The tears overflowed and plopped onto the plate. Eonwe decided that he would rather be in charge of a million orc recruits than where he was right now. All of his experiences as a warrior, a Herald for the Ainur, a Maia with huge responsibilities and as a senior ranking officer in the British Army had not prepared him for battle with the stubborn will of a small girl who, at that moment in time it had to be said, resembled her mother much more than her Maiar kindred.

"Mummy had to go away for a few days sweetheart, that's why Daddy took some leave to look after you." He heard a cajoling note in his voice and mentally rolled his eyes at himself. She was testing him, he told himself. He needed to step up to the plate here and say something profoundly fatherlike which would immediately make her smile and eat her lunch.

Nothing came to mind.

"Don't want you, want Mummy." Came the stubborn rejoinder.

Even though he knew it was just a small girl's attempt at blackmail, the comment still stung. Almare or Allie as she had come to be called, usually flew into her daddy's arms as soon as he came home. 'Daddy's little girl', as Kim wryly put it. Somehow Kim not being where she always was had changed the balance in the little girl's life despite the fact that he bore the most of their daughter's outward affection.

"Having trouble?" Eonwe turned to find a tall red-haired young man leaning against the doorjamb.

"Unca Madie!" The little girl squeaked and bounced up and down.

The plate somehow got caught in between her elbow and the table and it somersaulted across the kitchen, dispersing its contents across the floor and her father's lap and finally landed with astounding accuracy in the washing up bowl, currently filled with soapy water. Eonwe and the family cat were both caught in the fallout spray. The cat let out an indignant howl and shot out of the kitchen for any safe dark haven he could find. Eonwe found himself wishing he could do the same.

"When did you get here? How did you get in?" Eonwe asked and, caught as he was in a moment of complete havoc in his kitchen and strife with his daughter, he couldn't quite keep the challenge out of his voice.

"Kim thought you might have a little trouble feeding and looking after the little one." Maedhros tried to keep the laughter out of his voice as he headed over to where Allie was bouncing excitedly up and down in her booster chair. He bent down and gave one of her bunches a tug. "Hello my beautiful girl." He whispered into her delicately shaped ear. She giggled even harder and held her arms up to be lifted.

"Don't encourage her Maedhros." Eonwe growled as he tried to wipe up the mess with some paper towel. "She's being a naughty girl and she's supposed to be eating her lunch..."

"Which looks remarkably horrible and unappetising." Maedhros lifted her out of the chair and settled her on his hip. "I'm guessing cooking tuition wasn't on the top of the list of subjects in Maiar school."

The Herald sighed. "There is no Maiar school." He began defensively and then caught the wicked gleam in Maedhros' eye. "I never said I was any good at cooking. Anyway, I didn't cook it, it came out of the freezer. One of the meals that Kim makes for her. So it isn't my fault."

Maedhros chuckled. "I may have a solution to all of your problems!"

He glanced towards the door and as if by magic, the tall figure of Erestor, who looked after Elrond's small household in Middle-earth appeared in the doorway. Allie knew when victory was in sight and her father sighed deeply when he saw her hold her arms out to Erestor. She gave him a sunny smile and the stormy tears and obstinate expression just melted away.

"Hello my little poppet let's see what we can get you for lunch rather than that horrible looking mess your father was trying to force down you." Erestor cooed at her and Eonwe knew he, the strongest of Maiar in arms, was beaten, by two elves and a small girl, so he did the only decent thing left to him under the circumstances and gathered as much of the tattered remains of his dignity as he could in order to beat a tactical retreat.

"I am going to my study, to do the work I should have been doing." He declared and then slunk out of the door with his tail between his legs.

"I will bring in a nice cup of tea and a freshly baked scone in an hour or so, once we've settled Allie down." Erestor's voice floated after him.

The Herald's reply could have been either 'thank you very much' or 'fuck off and die' lost as it was in the noise of the study door slamming shut.

The two elves glanced at each other across the top of the child's golden head. Erestor had still not quite come to terms with the fact that Maedhros, the kinslayer, he who was responsible for killing his own kind was in the service of the Herald. Eonwe had taken great pains to explain to all of them that the two eldest Feanorians were repaying their debt to the Valar and the Eldar for their crimes by being here and they would not be permitted to return to the Blessed Realm until that repayment was complete.

For that reason...and for the reason that Elrond wished him to, Erestor put aside his distaste and anger and rubbed shoulders alongside those two most hated Elves, hated still even after all the millennia. Elves are immortal and have very long memories.

"You can take this little poppet and entertain her while I make her some decent food." Erestor said with a note of authority in his voice. He handed Allie over to Maedhros who took her into his arms. "Take her into the other room and I will call you when it's ready."

"Yes sir." There was just a hint of cheek in the red-haired elf's voice, but he obediently swung Allie up onto his shoulders and galloped out of the room neighing shrilly while she shrieked with laughter and told him to 'giddy up horsie'.

Erestor sighed and shook his head, then he started to clean up the kitchen and prepare to cook. Nobody was ever going to say that the head of Lord Elrond's household was unable to produce a good tasty meal, or ensure that a child's stomach was adequately filled.

Yet still a smile hovered around his mouth as he listened to the noisy play coming from the family room in the form of the silvery laughter of the Kinslayer and the giggles of the Herald's little girl.

ooOoo

Eonwe also looked up and smiled as he heard the laughter and giggling from the family room. He picked up a letter with a thick embossed crest at the top which proved to be an invitation for him and Kim to attend a function to be held at Clarence House. Attendance at this kind of event was generally expected of him, even though he really did dislike the pomp and circumstance that usually surrounded them. He was about to put it on the pile of 'priority events to consider attending' when he caught sight of an attachment which proved to be a guest list.

He cast a cursory glance over it, mentally assessing whether he would be considering professional suicide if he made an excuse not to go, but then his eye was caught by one name on the guest list, although it was not so much the name that stopped him dead in his tracks, but more the name of his company.

'Angband Enterprises' jumped off the page at him. He dropped the paper as if it had burned him and drew in a sharp ragged breath. Surely not? Surely some modern public relations person had just come up with the name and thought it was clever or some play on words? Whatever was the case, he knew that he could not refuse to go. It was his duty to ensure that this did not have any kind of dark connotation.

He removed the letter from the pile and answered the RSVP with his distinctive handwriting, then he folded the paper up, put it in the already stamped reply envelope and sealed it shut firmly, then he sat back grimacing slightly to himself.

At the very least he and Kim would actually enjoy themselves and it would turn out to be nothing and surely at the very worst he may have just condemned them both to a tedious and boring evening. He picked up the envelope and put it in the post tray, reminding himself to post it that evening.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted his thoughts on the matter. "Come." He called out and Erestor's dark head appeared around the door.

"Ready for a cup of tea and a nice freshly baked scone and jam Lord Eonwe?"

Eonwe chuckled. Try as he might he could not get any of the elves to address him by his military title and mortal name in private.

He gave Erestor the full blast of that devastating smile of his. "I certainly am."

Erestor beamed and put the tray on his desk. The letter with the RSVP in the tray fell to the back of the Herald's mind as he made the most of Erestor's heavenly baking and it was Erestor who, tidying up the study while the Herald was bathing his daughter, put it in his pocket and strolled down to the postbox to mail it later that evening.

ooOoo