Another chapter! Glad I made it in time! Merry Christmas, Vrolijk Kerstfeest, everyone!

I've decided to do this one right, so:

DISCLAIMER: I do own LOTR... whenever I sleep. I do not own the Angels either, since I've got their names out of the Bible, and the internet. The plot and the characters of the Angels however, ARE mine. (OC)

One last word about the Angels: each of them has an own function. If you want to know them, they are listed below, alphabetically. Mostly, they have something to do with the story.

Once again I would like to thank TheButterflyCurse996 for her really encouraging reviews! They keep me going!

Now, the only thing I have to do yet is to wish you pleasure reading it and PLEASE review! :D


"What did you just say?"

"I said I won."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"No you didn't! You choose that stone left to the stone where pebble fell!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"No I-"

"Shut up," a tired voice intervened from the corner. "Isn't it worse enough that Dûrmol captured and tortured us? Do you truly wish to torture my ears a bit more?"

The quarrelling voices fell silent. And it was dark and quiet again in the cellars beneath Mordor.

No one knew for how many years there were already imprisoned there. Time didn't held power here. There were no days, no seasons. Only one eternal night.

It could have been years ago since 9 of them had been taken away to be joined with the Nazgûl. The corpses of the Men were providing the body, but the tortured Angels were the cloud of despair that surrounded them.

It also could have been centuries since they left.

Or mere days.

None knew. And none really cared. The youngest of them were too absorbed in their game to predict where a thrown pebble would fall, the oldest were too absorbed by their bleak thoughts. The rumours that had been whispered between the cold stones were occupying them. They murmured of resistance. Rebellion. Courage.

Today.

The great battle had begun. Some miles away, Men and Elves and Orcs were fighting for the Fate of Middle-Earth. Dûrmol had been challenged by Elendil and Gil-Galad. This day, the Music of the Ainur would flow into a whole new course, for better or worse.

And they were sitting here. As they were for centuries. Or years. Or mere days.

It was frustrating.

In a corner, Raphaël sat, together with his young friend Tagas. Every now and then, the soldier would look up, as if he heard something, far away, in the heath of the battle of Dagorlad. Then he just shook his head, muttered something and began staring to the floor again, while tapping with his foot upon the cold floor.

It was irritating.

"Raphaël, please, could you stop being so nervous? We can't do anything, really," Tagas suddenly snapped. Raphaël just threw a gaze at him, and continued to tap his foot.

"Raphaël!" The Angels sighed and forced himself to stop. Some minutes later however, he caught himself ticking with his hand upon his stretched leg. Tagas sent him a murderous glare.

"Look, Tagas, I'm sorry, but I can't help it. Just leave me be, will you?" he snarled. Tagas merely raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore him.

It was difficult.

"Raphaël!"

"Tagas!"

"Would you please stop, you both! You are worse then little human children!" Arakiël, the same Angel who had reprimanded Muriël and Nabaälel for their game, interrupted them. The two friends exchanged a glare.

"My apologies, Arakiël," Raphaël started, "It's just… We were supposed to protect them!"

"Aye, I know. But in case you didn't notice, we're trapped here. And unless you have some plan to escape, that won't change soon. So instead of unnerving everyone, calm down and try to think of an escape route. You're the one who studied the art of war after all."

Raphaël was about to reply, when the earth started trembling. All of the Angels hushed and looked anxiously at each other. Then, the quaking ceased.

"What was that?" Tagas, the youngest of them all –barely 16 in human years- was staring at the ground with great eyes.

"I'm not sure…" Raphaël was unable to finish his sentence, as the ground shook once more, more violently then before. Grit fell down from the ceiling, covering the prisoners in a cloak of greyish ash. Vohamanah grimaced and spit out some dust. Then it was over again. For a moment, none dared to speak, in case their voices would raise the wrath of the earth again. Then, Tagas couldn't keep silent anymore.

"Arakiël, what was th-?" The floor started to wave.

"You're doing this on purpose!" Raphaël screamed, before duck to the floor and tried to shield his head from the falling stones. A moment later, the ceiling gave way.


It was pitch dark when Raphaël awoke. Well, awaking was a great word. It was more a kind of slow regaining of consciousness. Some senses slipped back to his body. The feeling of rough stones and debris beneath and above him. The dry taste of dust. The sporadic falling of some pebbles in delay. Pain.

He groaned and tried to open his eyes. They were so heavy. Only after a few tries, he managed to hold his eyes open just long enough to take in the situation.
Darkness. The Angel let his head fall back. Great. That was of use.

He tried again. This time, he found himself able to hold his eyes open. Not that that made much difference, actually. It was still dark. But slowly, very slowly, his angelic senses started to pick up some contours, with aid of the moonlight.
His eyes widened in shock. The whole cell had collapsed. He was sticking out of the ruins, with his legs still stuck beneath the stones. A bit further Tagas was, motionless. Arakiël sat a few steps left to him. He was pale, but seemed unhurt. He was busy digging.

"Arakiël?"

"Ah Raphaël. I thought already I hurt someone. Mind if you come over to help me? Nabaälel is stuck."

"I know the feeling," Raphaël commented dryly. "Mind if you come over to help me?" Only then Arakiël turned and sighed.

"Eru's Love! You're a warrior! Can't you find a way to free yourself?" And he began digging again.

"My most sincere apologies, Arakiël. I was to busy being unconscious. I'll try not to do that anymore," the Angel muttered. Arakiël merely smiled. They both knew they were just bantering. Being the two oldest of the group merged a bond.

Finally, they had most of the youngsters up and well again. Tagas was pressing a piece of his clothes against a quit grave head wound; and Shateriël leg was injured, probably broken, but they were most concerned for Hammaweth, who was still unfindable. They searched, but meanwhile, Arakiël kept on throwing glances at the moon. At their freedom. They were running out of time. Soon, orcs would have learned about the collapse, and then they wouldn't have another hour before those foul creatures would come to hunt them.

They had to run now.
Coming to a hard decision, Arakiël squared his shoulders and beckoned Raphaël. The Angel wasn't searching. Rather he was with his young friend, who seemed on the verge of passing out. The blood loss was taking his toll. As he saw the leader winking him, he frowned.

Is it really necessary?

Yes, it is. Come here.

Approvingly, Arakiël saw him whispering something to Tagas, before lowering him gently to the ground, where he could sleep. Then he crossed the former cellar.

"What is it?"

"We have to move. Now." At first, the Angel didn't get him. Then comprehension broke through upon his face, closely followed by stupefaction and anger.

"We can not."

"We must," he replied calmly.

"And what about Hammaweth? Do you intend to leave him?"

"I see no other solution."

Raphaël looked at him with disgust.

"You are loathsome."

"Isn't it loathsome to let Tagas and Shateriël die? Look at them! They won't last long without medication. And we surely will not get any of we are to be imprisoned again. We must leave."

Raphaël seemed to want to protest, but after a look at Arakiëls stern face, he swallowed his protest, reluctantly.

"You will take Tagas. I do not esteem him fit to travel. Shateriël will have to fly by himself, but since it's only his leg that is injured, I don't think that will be much trouble. Lead them to Yvren. Him you can trust. Do not show yourself to anyone else. And don't go to Elendil and Gil-Galad. You must not entwine yourself in a war. That was not out purpose. Understood?"

"Aye. What about you?"

"I will stay here. Perhaps Hammaweth is still alive." The look of astonishment and admiration was worth it.

"The orcs will come."

"I know."

"You will die."

"Perhaps."

"Let me stay here with you."

"Tagas needs you."

"Arakiël."

"Raphaël." The Angel seemed to realise that any objection was fruitless, so he just lowered his gaze and bowed respectfully, his wings folded alongside his body.

"Now go."

Proudly Arakiël watched the other Angel giving orders to organize their departure, before they set off. Soon, they were nothing but tiny dots in the air. He would be a fine leader. That he was sure of.


It was midnight as the Angels perched outside Yvrens house. The light and warmth that radiated from it, was a welcome blessing after hours in the cold winter-sky. Slowly Raphaël put Tagas upon the ground and gathered the other Angels. They were looking at him with expectant faces, curious what he was about to say. They were seeing him as their leader already. Arakiël had stayed behind.

"You will all stay here. I'm going to have a talk with that Yvren."

"How do you know he can be trusted?" Chesedel asked.

"Arakiël trusted him."

"And what if Arakiël was wrong?"

"Then I will appoint Haniël as my successor and you will obey his orders." All kept silent. Raphaêl watched them one last time to make sure they understood, and turned around to face the house. Ancious, the Angels saw him disappear.

The moon had travelled quit a distance of his heavenly course as Raphaël emerged from the house again. Sighs of relief were heard, especially from Tagas, who had regained consciousness about an hour ago and had been really upset by what this friend was doing.

As he reached the forest where they were hidden, he began to explain his plan. Dark times were coming. They were to assist the Free People of Middle-Earth, as had been their task from the beginning. They would be hunted down however. The Dark Lord wouldn't allow hope to spread. Therefore, one of them had to remain secure, safe. He would be incarnated in an elvish body, to forget all of his past.

There was much protest against this plan, especially from the Angel in question. Raphaël couldn't be persuaded otherwise though, so eventually the others gave up there attempt, although the one who would stay behind occasionally tried again.

And as the full moon was rising, all of them emerged from their hiding spot to go to the atrium, where the wizard would fulfil the incantation. The wooden body was there already. Raphaël threw a lateral glance at it and was puzzled how it would be to be trapped therein. But his mind was set, and he was determined to protect at least one of them.

Nevertheless did he wonder, as the spirit of the Angel started to glow and the wood started to blend with Tagas fair soul, whether he would ever see his friend again.

Ha! You didn't expect that (did you?) ;) Hope you like it. Beneath are the Angels names

Arakiël = Angel of the Divine Order

Hammaweth = Angel of Passing

Muriël = Angel of Emotions

Nabaälel = Angel of Enthusiasm

Raphaël = The Healer

Shateriël = Angel of Silence

Tagas = Angel of Music

Vohamanah = Angel of Optimism

Please review!

And once again Merry Christamas, and Happy New years (since I do not think I will upload another chapter before New Year ;))

xXx Archiril