Responses to reviewers
Sir Pent: Thank you!
Napolde of the Council: Couldn't he? (To both!)
sqrt(-1): Nerdanel and the rest of the family will get their say later.
AlienFreak: Yes, Elrond now has a little brother, but he doesn't know yet. Dior already sliced and diced Celegorm, so Elwing isn't out for revenge. Galadriel was indeed very scary, but not so much to other elves, which is why she didn't make the list.
Calvusfelix: The book was written by elves for elves, so Kinslayers are definitely the ones to watch out for. As with Galadriel, Fingolfin was not really frightening to his own people. Finrod, Orodreth and Thingol were the runners-up.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for this work.
Interlude 2: Elwing
Elwing screamed in horror at the scene in the living roomof her tower. The sons of Fëanor had come to kill her, as she had always known they would. She ran up the stairs to the top of the tower and there paused for a moment, remembering the destruction of her home at the Havens of Sirion, when in despair she had thrown herself into the sea rather than give up her Silmaril.
The Silmaril. Now it was no longer hers, and she mourned its loss, more than she grieved for the loss of her twin sons. Elros was gone forever beyond the confines of Arda and Elrond, raised by the Kinslayers to despise the jewel-thieves, had never forgiven her for choosing the jewel over him. It was not her concern that he had forgiven Maglor, who he said was driven by his oath rather than greed.
She leapt high into the air, as she had so many times before when flying to meet Eärendil, trusting as always to Ulmo to turn her into the great white sea-bird of legend, but something was different this time. She tried to flap her wings, yet nothing happened and the ground was swiftly rushing up to meet her. A dark-haired elf was standing below, shouting in Quenya, the language of the Kinslayers; a language she refused to learn. It was one of the Fëanorians, Maglor or Curufin she thought, and she idly wondered if he had somehow prevented Ulmo from coming to her aid.
He ran towards her, arms outstretched as if to catch her, but he was too far away and the ground was too close now. She plummeted into the unwelcoming embrace of a large rhododendron and lost consciousness.