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

Author's Note: Another delay, too much going on. Thanks again to those who did review, I will get around to answering you when life has stopped throwing me wobblies. In the meantime, we pick the tale up with Thranduil and the others.

" PAST, n. That part of Eternity with some small fraction of which we have a slight and regrettable acquaintance. "

Ambrose Bierce. 1911. The Devil's Dictionary

Dark Power Arising

Chapter 24 – Angels and Demons

A road along the coast from the city of Marseilles

No amount of words could have adequately described Elrond's feelings as the car sped along the road from Marseilles towards the Chateau where Celebrian and Maksim were alleged to have taken refuge. Rationality, sheer despair and terror warred with each other inside him. He wanted to punch hell out of the vampire, thank him effusively, scold his wife and kiss her at the same time. What on earth had she be thinking?

What was he thinking by bringing her to Arda Marred when she had already escaped it once?

Thranduil and Glorfindel sat in the front of the vehicle with the former Elven King driving swiftly, but smoothly, along the highway. Elrond and Haldir sat in the back, Elladan had reluctantly accompanied Eönwë back to England at the Herald's firm suggestion since it was plain that Elrond was frantic enough about his wife without the impetuous Elladan flying off on one of his bouts of errantry.

Occasional tiny, but picturesque, villages clinging to the coastline, the wine-dark Mediterranean sea on their right and the indigenous vegetation on the left flashed by them in a haze. If Elrond had not been in such a blue funk over his wife he would have admired everything and he also would have appreciated just how expert Thranduil was with all modern aspects of life. Instead he fumed darkly, in a mood almost as dark as the roiling purple and vivid red storm clouds beginning to gather in the sky above them.

"Weather is turning." Glorfindel suddenly announced out of the blue.

Thranduil glanced briefly out of the front car windscreen and nodded. "Yes. Not much further now. We should make it before the storm breaks. These roads along the coast are often subject to mudslides if the rain is very heavy, if we had started out later and the rain came we would have had to make a detour." He looked over his shoulder quickly at Elrond, who was hunched in the back seat muttering to himself. "How are you faring Elrond? We will be there soon."

There was no reply from Elrond who glared at nothing in particular and continued to mutter under his breath in Sindarin, Thranduil chuckled and turned his attention back to the road just in time to swing around another bend in the road much to Glorfindel's immense relief as he was visualising meeting his death down another steep drop and having to face Lord Namo again.

A sudden thin arc of lightning split the night sky and stabbed the the ocean, which rose up slightly as if in welcome. The stark white light briefly illuminated everything around it and for a moment buildings, bushes and the road flickered in sharp black and white relief like a strobe light. Thranduil glanced in the rear view mirror, but there were no other cars behind him and very few approaching from the other direction. Apparently the people of the south coast of France had more sense than to travel when a storm was approaching.

He drove on silently, but with a prickling in the senses and of the hair on the back of his neck telling him that something...he was not sure what...was out there still, watching them. His foot instinctively pressed harder on the accelerator and he had to force himself to relax it and keep the smooth pace of the vehicle. It wouldn't do at all for the car to spin off the road. Not with a fairly steep drop to the ocean and the fact that the road wound around the coast with the occasional hairpin bend.

It was Glorfindel whose sharp eyes caught the turning that the vampire in the Marseilles house had warned them to look for. Two crumbling sandy coloured walls and an unkempt road abruptly loomed up on the left and, hanging lopsidedly on one of the large stones still standing, was a worn sign...Chateau Villefranche.

He touched Thranduil on his arm and pointed. "There...next on the left, it's the turning."

Thranduil grunted in acknowledgment and swung the car around with a scrunch of tires on the loose gravel. The vehicle bounced around on the road which had not seen maintenance for some time. Thranduil assumed that the vampires deliberately kept it ill-kempt in order to stop curious people wandering in. Nobody in the world would have thought there was a large chateau at the end of such a miserable, pot hole-strewn road.

The car suddenly hit one of the potholes and bounced upwards shooting them into the verge between the road and the trees. Glorfindel's head bumped the roof the car as he bounced up off the seat and he whooped in delight like a child as his stomach stayed up there for a moment and then landed back where it was supposed to be. Thranduil's rich golden laughter rang out as well as he brought the car back under control. They both glanced backwards at Elrond who was staring at them under furiously frowning black brows. He was gripping the front of the car seat for grim death and glowering at everything.

They both turned back to the front with huge grins on their faces at the sight of the normally urbane, imperturbable Master of New and Old Imladris reduced to a mass of emotions, wild eldritch black hair and un-muted irritation. Haldir hid yet another smile and clung to the hand grip on the car door to stop himself from being flung around.

The first large drops of rain plopped and spattered on the windscreen as another slim arc of lightning rent the night sky and sputtered on the dust not five feet to the left of the road. The going was getting harder because the trees and bushes on either side of the road had not been trained or pruned away from it in many years, probably decades even. Thin whiplash branches now cracked against the side windows and occasionally even across the front windscreen.

The road seemed to go on for hours to Elrond, although realistically he knew that it was only twenty minutes or so, but he was so intent on reaching their destination and Celebrian that he was now hunched on the very edge of the back seat with a hand gripping each backrest of the front seats. Because he was so concentrated and focused on it, it was he who actually spotted the dark brooding bulk of the chateau in front of them.

"There." He croaked, pointing frantically and nearly smacking Glorfindel upside the head in the process.

Haldir bit back a bark of laughter at the aggrieved look on the Balrog Slayer's face, but said nothing. His grey eyes glittered with anticipation of perhaps a good fight. He was an archetypal warrior and he was looking forward to releasing some of the tension by having another good fight with someone.

Anyone would do.

The car abruptly swept onto a wide, rough, weed choked gravel driveway that circled around and swept up to the front facade of the building; so abruptly that Thranduil had to brake and swerve in order to avoid the ornamental fountain in the middle of the circular parking area.

Broad, deep steps led up to the massive oak front doors and, in typical horror movie style, on either side of the doors two braziers burned brightly, illuminating the front of what had once been a stunningly beautiful building, the summer home of a French aristocrat. Close enough to the coast to allow travel to the large fashionable coastal resorts, but far enough inland to allow total privacy for the estate.

One of the huge doors was open and standing in the doorway was a thin, almost cadaverous looking elderly man holding a flickering lantern aloft.

"Hello..." Thranduil's voice was filled with laughter and heavy with a mock Transylvanian accent. "Velcome to Castle Draacula."

ooOoo

Chateau Villefranche, one hour later....

Maksim sat quietly in one corner of the large salon in the Chateau that belonged to the Marseilles coven. In another corner sat the human housekeeper of the Chateau and his wife, who spent her time alternately dabbing her red-rimmed eyes with a corner of her apron and staring in awestruck silence at the tall beautiful creatures who were quietly discussing the situation they all found themselves in. So far nobody had mentioned how the battle in Marseilles had turned out, but the fact that Celebrian's husband and his companions were actually there told Maksim that events had obviously gone in their favour.

Celebrian was earnestly speaking in that mellifluous language of theirs, occasionally interrupted by comments by her husband and who threw stern and accusing looks across the room at the vampire. Maksim managed to find some sort of dry humour in the fact that Master Elrond was apparently jealous that his wife appeared to be defending her erstwhile captor quite vehemently.

The other three male Elves were seated casually on antique Louis the Fourteenth chairs which had seen better days, patiently waiting for husband and wife to finish their discussion. Maksim, now able to observe them at close quarters, saw that they were all very tall, all were beautiful in the way of their kind, but it was clear that the taller and most imposing looking of the three, a broad shouldered, slim hipped elf with a glorious mass of guinea gold hair and piercing green eyes was the leader of the small group. Maksim assessed him as a very dangerous man to cross. Every now and again he sent that piercing gaze across the room at Maksim, but there was no anger, hatred or fear in the gaze, it was merely speculative and not a little bit amused.

The elf beside him had an equally golden mass of hair, but his eyes were the blue of a summer sky in Southern France. He was slimmer in figure, but Maksim sensed great power in him. A latent power granted, but it was there. The glow that surrounded all of them was more intense in him somehow and his was the only name Maksim had caught... Glorfindel.

The fourth member of the group was a warrior, that was obvious from the beginning. He was beautiful without a doubt, but there was an overt masculinity in him that spoke of discipline. This elf was a valued subordinate, yet there was little subordinate in his looks. Long pale, almost silver hair was tied neatly back with braids behind ears that were clearly delicately pointed. His shoulders were broad and he looked immensely capable. He did not give Maksim anything other than a grim cursory glance and kept his attention on Celebrian and her husband, but Maksim knew that the elf was also watching him with all the wariness of his honed warrior instincts. The vampire did not blame him, he would have done the same in that situation.

Maksim intimated from her attitude towards him and his towards her that this elf considered himself Celebrian's protector. There was clearly an acquaintance of long standing between them.

Celebrian's husband was every bit as tall as the others, but where they had a dramatic golden beauty that lit up the room, Master Elrond's strength lay in the calm of his demeanour...or rather the calm that Maksim detected lay under the surface. On the surface at that moment in time he was all flashing grey eyes and passionately gesticulating hand movements, more often than not aimed in Maksim's direction. The hair that tumbled around his shoulders was as dark as the night and Maksim thought that perhaps there was more than a tinge of human in him. There was just something about the set of his features and the definition of his musculature which seemed slightly heavier than his companions.

Yes, thought Maksim, Celebrian's husband definitely had mortal blood in him...and something else that was quite indefinable.

The tall formidable being whose presence he had sensed and who he had mentally termed an angel was not with them and Maksim felt a sense of real disappointment at that. He would have liked to meet a real angel, even if he couldn't have borne to look him in the eye.

Whatever his ultimate fate, Maksim was now calmly resigned to it. He would not run, he would face it with whatever remnants of dignity were left to him. Yes, he had taken life, and deep inside there was enough morality left in him to know that this could not go unpunished, however he had not plunged into the depths of depravity as many of his kind had done. He would face his maker calmly and accept whatever punishment was bound to come.

He gazed out of the storm-lashed windows; the power had gone out at the very start of the storm and the room was illuminated by candlelight and the glow from a fire in grate that the housekeeper had lit when he and Celebrian had arrived, bone-weary, on the doorstep looking for refuge. The elderly housekeeper glanced over at him and then lowered his gaze slightly as Maksim turned to look in his direction. Maksim sighed. This could all take a while, but with the elements raging outside none of them were going anywhere in a hurry anyway so he signed to the housekeeper to serve wine to the new guests.

ooOoo

Thranduil Oropherion was not an elf with the greatest amount of patience, a characteristic he had inherited from his father Oropher, although his was tempered with the more calmer attributes of his mother and it was running out fast with the Peredhil. He accepted a glass of fortifying Madeira wine from the elderly manservant with a slight smile and a nod and took a sip. He sighed as the rich sweet wine rolled around his palate. This was wonderful and old, Eru only knew how old it was in reality, it could have been laid down before the French Revolution even.

A glance at Haldir and Glorfindel told him that both of them were equally appreciative. Glorfindel obviously had more patience with Elrond and Celebrian and so he should have, he had served them for long enough. Haldir, like all warriors, had patience in bucket loads when he chose to have it and apart from a mild interest in the argument raging, he remained quiet, occasionally sipping the wine and occasionally staring into the flames burning in the grate.

The vampire, Maksim as Celebrian had introduced him, remained calm and aloof on the other side of the salon. He too had a glass of wine, or what looked like a glass of wine, it had a deep dark colour and Thranduil came to the conclusion that it was most probably blood. Maksim made no move to escape perhaps because he knew how futile his actions would be...or perhaps he simply didn't want to. Thranduil couldn't work out which.

For the love of Eru, would Elrond never stop his incessant questioning? It was clear that Celebrian had told him, and them, everything. The vampire could have left her behind for the Lycans, but he didn't. Instead he had stopped and taken her with him. If he had any ulterior motive or plan to take her to this Herumor, then he certainly went a strange way about it.

There was also the conversation Thranduil had with the Herald before he went back to England with Elladan. Eönwë had been quite clear about what he wanted; the vampire was to be brought to England, either with Thranduil and the others or he would send people for him. By people Thranduil suspected that he meant Maiar warriors. The vampire's willingness to fall in with that plan would indicate whether he travelled with the Elves or under Maiar guard and would much depend on his demeanour when Thranduil and the others caught up with him and Celebrian. So far, Thranduil didn't feel they would have any trouble with him. Eönwë had also made it clear that he wished Celebrian to return with Haldir as her escort as soon as possible. Thranduil had no desire to even try and convince the now flinty-eyed Celebrian of that course of action.

The discussion had now turned full circle for the fourth time and Elrond showed no signs of abating the flow, but the Elven King could clearly see what Elrond was apparently incapable of seeing, the sudden dark circles of weariness under Celebrian's eyes and the fact that she was groping behind her for a chair to sink down into. He was about to do the gentlemanly thing and guide her to one, when the vampire appeared at her elbow taking all of them by surprise at the speed of his movement.

Elrond glared at him, Haldir immediately reached for a non-existent knife or bow and Glorfindel rose to his feet. Only Thranduil remained calm as Celebrian gave Maksim a smile of gratitude and accepted the chair the vampire pushed behind her. She sank down and hung her silver head in exhaustion, Maksim turned to Elrond and gave him a bow.

"Master Elrond, I fully understand your desire to ensure your lady wife is well and unharmed, but she is exhausted. Can you not let her rest a while? Let me instruct Marcus, the manservant and his wife to bring food for you all. The storm will rage now until morning, this house is protected against incursions by incantations and spells. Nobody can pass the threshold. All who can rest should rest."

Maksim's voice was quiet and respectful and somehow this filtered through to the distracted Peredhil. All of the fight went out of him and he sagged slightly. Glorfindel moved forward quickly and led Elrond to a chair. All was silent for a long moment and Thranduil opened his mouth to speak only to be stopped by Elrond who spoke directly to Maksim.

"I should offer you my gratitude for my wife's life." He said wearily passing a hand over his grey eyes. "Instead I have berated her. You were right to to stop me, but you must know that we cannot let you go free."

Maksim bowed slightly to all of them. "Of course not, neither would I expect it. In any case I have nowhere to go, I have outrun all of my options. I cannot return to the Marseilles coven now. No doubt they will have flown to four corners of Europe by now, since no doubt Herumor will know of the battle that was waged. He will send people there to exact his revenge in some way. I cannot return to my own people, they are lost to him now and he seeks my destruction." He held his hands out in something close to a gesture of despair. "I am in your hands, do what you will with me."

Thranduil stepped in at that. "My orders from Lord Eönwë are that you are to accompany us back to England, willingly if possible, if not, then he will send people for you."

"Lord Eönwë is the being of of the Powers of Light who was in Marseilles with you?" Maksim said slowly and Thranduil nodded. "What we would probably call an angel. I guess that those he would send if I did not go willingly are angelic warriors."

Glorfindel nodded. "Indeed, although we call them Maiar and they are formidable indeed."

There was a hint of a smile on Maksim's face. "As much as I would wish to meet such beings, I think I will come willingly with you. In any event, it seems I would have no choice." He stood up, divested himself of the weapons he carried including the long knife and handed them to Thranduil. "You will want these...as a gesture of goodwill and intent on my part."

Celebrian looked up and smiled at him encouragingly. Thranduil accepted the weapons and handed them to Haldir who put them on the table beside him.

"You all need to eat." Maksim went over and spoke in French to the manservant and his wife who left with alacrity to prepare hot food and set the large dining table. "They will let us know when the food is ready. Until then I suggest you rest a little."

"You do not rest?" Haldir spoke to him for the first time, not without some suspicion in his tone.

Maksim managed a grim smile. "These are the night hours, the time when vampires are awake. Contrary to popular modern belief we can move in the daylight hours, but we prefer not to. Exposure to the sun can be both painful and lethal to us if we are not protected."

Haldir turned to Thranduil with a determined look in his grey eyes. "One of us must remain on guard while the others rest. I will take the first watch and I can wake you when the food is ready." He said firmly.

"Agreed." Thranduil replied. He turned to Maksim. "No offense, but we need to protect ourselves."

Maksim shrugged, this was nothing more than he expected. "None taken, I would do the same in your shoes." He sat back down on his chair in the corner by the window and seemed to enter some sort of meditative state.

Elrond helped Celebrian to one of the longer sofas. She lay down thankfully and smiled at Glorfindel when he brought his long coat which Elrond tenderly laid over her. The others settled down to rest in front of the fire and Maksim let the soft delightful sounds of their melodic voices and language wash over him.

Haldir sat beside the fire, but in a position where he could easily watch the room and the vampire, his hand hovered across the gun Thranduil had given him.

ooOoo

Angband Enterprises, Paris Headquarters

"Twice....twice you have let them best you." Herumor's voice was a cracked and terrifying whisper and the Lycan chieftain trembled where he stood at the sight of that loathsome creature who was currently incandescent with rage. "It seems that I am beset with incompetence wherever I turn. Perhaps I must now call upon others to do the work you cannot do."

The Lycan shuddered as Herumor brought his death's head close until all he could see were Herumor's ghastly features. His will and courage drained out of him as he waited for the death blow, but it never came. Instead Herumor suddenly straightened up.

"Begone." He hissed. "Out of my sight, as much it would give me pleasure to watch you torn limb from limb, I still have need of your kind. I will call upon you later once I have summoned those who you will obey without question and under their leadership, the Lycans will learn the true nature of obedience."

The Lycan turned and loped from the room, thankful to still be alive, but wondering what on this benighted earth could be so terrible that even Herumor respected them.

ooOoo

The Great St Bernard Pass tunnel, Switzerland side

Xavier du Pree trembled with excitement as he stood next to the top flight demolitions team who had set charges to widen an opening that had appeared in the wall of the tunnel known as the Great St Bernard Pass. Behind that wall lay something exciting, Xavier could feel it in his bones. The only thing that concerned him was the amount of damage the demolition team might do to whatever was lying there and must have lain there for possible millennia, but these people were the best at their job, all he had to do was contain his excitement. An excitement shared by all of the archaeological team assembled there from across the world.

They all stood at the prescribed distance from the tunnel and the backwash of the explosion. There was a real chance that the whole tunnel could just fall in. The men laying the charges exited the tunnel onto the highway leading up to and through it and made for safe cover. Xavier saw one give the thumbs up to the man pushing the detonator. Silence reigned for a few moments and then the man with the detonator shouted.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Nothing appeared to happen for a few seconds and then there was a gentle trembling under their feet, almost like the ground was rippling like pond whose waters have been disturbed by a tiny pebble. A large puff of dust shot out of the tunnel entrance and the shock waves of the muffled explosion rippled outwards under their feet, now much stronger and then gradually lessening until everything was still. The mouth of the tunnel still gaped wide with only a few plumes of dust drifting down over it. Beyond was all Stygian darkness.

And deep down in the depths of a place that had not seen living eyes for many thousands of years something started.

......

Tom tap, tap tom, tom tap, tap tap tom.

ooOoo