White Tower of Arvernien, May 25, First Age 538
9:12 AM. Once he reached a wide-open stone terrace built over a cliff, Thranduil stopped and hid behind a tall granite statue erected at its boundary. The flowering bushes that surrounded the statue gave Thranduil an ample coverage but he scooted down low when he saw one of the three red armored soldiers walking back toward the middle of the terrace. The Noldorin soldier had been looking around large vases at the far end of the terrace where stone stairs led to a white tower built on the edge of the cliff. The tower was Elwing's favorite place to watch for a ship that may carry her husband back home.
Thranduil aimed his arrow at the Noldorin warrior when another soldier in the red armor came out of the mansion that stood on the far right of the terrace. He walked over to the one in the middle of the terrace.
"She's not in there. Search all around," the second soldier said and took off his golden helmet to run his hand through the hair before putting the helmet back on. Thranduil was surprised by the russet color of the Elf's hair, the color the young Sinda had never seen among any Elves. Besides the unusual hair color, this Elf's red armor was gilded in gold with designs of rays of the sun around the edges.
Thranduil grabbed another arrow when a third warrior with a bow strung and ready in his hand came around from the back of the mansion to join the other two.
"I don't see her, Minyarussa. Are you sure she came this way?" the Noldorin warrior said in Quenya although it sounded slightly different than the way Thranduil's mother had taught it to him.
"I'm sure!" The redhead frowned.
Noiselessly, Thranduil took out the third arrow. He lined the three arrows over his bow, then nocking one to the string, aimed it at the Noldorin archer. Once their archer is disposed of, Thranduil will have time to shoot the other two who only had swords. Thranduil silently planned the moves and calculated the distance, then he pulled back the string of his bow.
As the string became taut, Thranduil felt a chill run down his spine. He took in a breath, then let the tension of his bowstring settle.
No matter how much he wanted to deny it, Thranduil knew he had no chance if he was to face the three highly trained Elven warriors alone. His best chance was to shoot them down as quickly as he could before any of them could reach him. And at this distance, with nothing near for the three warriors to hide behind, Thranduil knew he could kill them, if not all, at least two before he will have to face the last of them.
But how can he kill another Elf? All Elves are kin, no matter how distantly related.
And the three Noldor standing on the terrace were so close, he could see the gray color of their eyes. Thranduil swallowed hard.
Tremor passed through him, shaking his very core. He had killed orcs and goblins, and he had hunted for food, but he had never killed another Elf before. Despite all the hatred he felt for the Noldor, everything he believed in cried out against committing the deadliest of sins. He lowered his bow.
Then, Thranduil's thoughts strayed to Menegroth. These Elves were the ones who had killed his brother; killed his grandfather; killed Aron's mother and the gentle queen. They were the same people who destroyed the home he loved. Hardening himself, Thranduil picked up the bow again. Elwing's life may depend on him killing them.
With trembling hands, Thranduil held up his bow and aimed it at the Noldorin archer as the Noldo stood next to the redhead. Thranduil took in a big breath to still the tremor that went through him. His heart pulsed rapid and furious as if it will jump out of his chest. The young Sinda glanced at the Noldorin warriors, afraid that they could hear it.
The threaded arrow in front of him shook. Stilling his breath, Thranduil stepped back to steady himself before pulling back on the string when something crunched under his feet.
The redhead turned and looked directly at where Thranduil hid.
"Come out! I know you are there. Are you an Elf or a filth of the Dark Lord who hides in the darkness and skulks like a coward?" the redhead said aloud in that same jeering voice Thranduil heard before.
Thranduil knew better than to abandon his bow, but his blood boiled and anger darkened his heart and mind.
He stepped forward into the opening, then threw down his bow and the arrows on the ground. He took out his long knife which was strapped to his belt along with his dagger.
The redhead laughed when he saw Thranduil with his long knife drawn.
"A child?"
"I'm not a child!" Thranduil spat. "You want a fight, then fight, Noldo."
A corner of redhead's lips went up.
"You are no match for me, elfling," the redhead said, holding up his head high to look down at Thranduil. The redhead looked very tall against Thranduil's slight and lithe frame. Although Thranduil was 70 years old, he was smaller than most other Elves at that age.
"You think because you are a Noldo that you are superior to everybody," Thranduil rushed in, swinging his long knife, going for an opening on the redhead's right.
The redheaded Noldo barely moved, but slid past Thranduil's thrust as if it was a mere play.
"We are superior. I'm guessing you are not one of our kin from Gondolin?"
"I rather be an Orc than be one of you, you kinslayer!" Thranduil huffed having made several swings and thrusts but not having made even the barest contact.
"Then, you are one of the Elves from Doriath? How is it you speak Quenya?" the redhead frowned, taking another step to avoid Thranduil's advance.
"You murderer. Your kind killed my family, the people I loved, destroyed my home." Thranduil swung with all his strength using all that he had learned but none of his swings touched the redhead who with deft movements avoided them.
"I have lost family, too, at Doriath," the Noldo growled, then took a swing, easily blocking Thranduil's labored thrusts.
"Every one of your kin deserves death." Thranduil grounded his teeth.
The redhead's eyes flashed, then with a roar, the Noldo slashed twice at Thranduil's arm. The long knife in Thranduil's hand clattered to the ground. Thranduil gritted his teeth, but could not prevent a groan from escaping as he grabbed at the two gaping wounds on his arm as the red blood seeped through his fingers. The redhead, with surprising speed, stepped forward and grabbed Thranduil's neck, picking him up off the ground.
"What do you know of death, elfling!" The redhead bared his teeth, his lips curled back. The bright light of his eyes seemed to glow like a firelight.
The steel gauntlet on the Noldo's hand dug into Thranduil's bare neck. Thranduil gagged, breath cut off him. He tried to pry off the steel covered fingers, but try as he might, the redhead did not loosen his grip.
"Minyarussa, please," one of the two red-armored warriors, the one with the bow, pleaded. "He is but a child. Let him go. He is no threat to us."
It was then a horn rang out surrounding them with a long deep note, then tooted twice.
The three red armored warriors stopped and the redhead loosened his hold on Thranduil, enough for the young Sinda to take a breath.
"It's your brother's horn. He is calling all the warriors to retreat," the one who had intervened looked up at the redhead.
"I am not done yet, Astarno. She has the Silmaril. We are not done until we find her," the redhead said as he turned back to Thranduil, then picking Thranduil up off his feet, the redhead shook the young Sinda.
"Where is she?"
Thranduil struggled as the steel fingers dug again into his throat cutting off blood and breath.
Stop!" A shrill voice rang out. The three warriors turned. "Let him go or I'll drop this in the depth of the ocean where none of you can ever find it!"
At the base of the stone stairs that led up to the white tower, Elwing stood, tall and majestic.
The jewel glowed white on her neck as she held the edges of the bejeweled necklace towards them.
The redhead growled, then hurled Thranduil onto the ground.
Then without a second thought to the young Sinda, the redhead turned to move toward Elwing.
Thranduil did not think. He grabbed the Noldo's legs and held onto them with all his might.
"Run, Elwing, run!" Thranduil shouted in Sindarin.
The redhead's steel gauntlet came crashing down on Thranduil's head, once, then twice, but Thranduil hung onto him harder as something thick flowed down his forehead and stung his eyes.
"Get off me!"
The redhead picked up Thranduil bodily and hurled the young Sinda onto the ground, smashing him on the side of his wounded arm.
The pain on his bleeding arm and the side where he hit the ground exploded as if pummeled with an ax, but Thranduil bit hard onto his back teeth, refusing to cry out.
Trembling from pain, Thranduil got up and when the redhead walked near him to pass him, he sprang onto the redhead's leg once more.
"You are not going anywhere!" Thranduil screamed.
The redhead's other foot came crashing down on Thranduil's side. Pain blasted through his body and Thranduil groaned and rolled over, unable to hold on.
Thranduil tried to lift his head, but a cold steel clad foot held Thranduil's head down on the dirt.
"If I were you, elfling, I'll stay down," the redhead growled. Then, he turned to the other two warriors.
"Astarno, shoot down the woman and Thornandur, you take this elfling," the redhead took off his foot from Thranduil's head and turned.
"Minyarussa…" the one called Astarno protested.
"Now! Stop her." The redhead commanded.
Ignoring the throbs of pain wrecking his body, Thranduil threw himself onto Astarno who was threading an arrow onto his bowstring, shouting aloud in Sindarin.
"Run, Elwing! Run!"
Thranduil shouted at the top of his lung as he jumped onto the Noldorin archer who tumbled over onto his back. The other Noldorin warrior reached over then threw Thranduil onto the ground. The Noldo helped the archer get up, then drew his sword looming over Thranduil.
It was then an arrow pierced the warrior's hand making him drop his sword. The Noldo groaned. Thranduil saw the Noldorin archer move, but the Noldo was not swift enough. Before he could even pick up his bow, another arrow struck the Noldorin archer on his head, throwing him down onto the ground.
Everyone turned toward where the arrows came.
A warrior in a blue and silver scaled armor stepped forward into the clearing with his great bow drawn, another arrow nocked. He aimed it at the redhead.