A/N: I know it has been a long time since I updated. I've had a hectic few years honestly and had hoped someone would want to continue this. But Eventually, as all things do my my returned to this and I wanted to keep going. I hope the length and quality help make up for the length of time since the last chapter was posted, I was amazed at how many people read this every day honestly. Thank you all so much, I hope you're staying safe and that you, your family and friends stay happy and hale.
Dance in the Dark
Eruraviel sighed as she padded silently down the darkened halls of the main house. She had been locked up in the library with Erestor for the last 15 hours trying to find every hint they could over which Númenórean Blood line the Litch King belonged to. While they knew he wasn't of Eärendil's line, and in turn, Elros, they were having a difficult time of it. Elrond kept vigilant watch over his twin's descendants, but the lives of men are unbelievably quick to an immortal. It would be impossible to know every single individual that still remained after the dissolution of Arnor several years ago. The lands previously ruled by them were still in chaos as they tried to adjust to governing themselves in the absence of a solitary ruler as they had known for so long. Elendil's descendants had done their best, Isildur notwithstanding, but between the constant attacks by Angmar and their loss of strength after the open war against Sauron chaos was imminent. Valandil's survival in the wake of his fathers, Isildur's, death and that of his three older brothers had been nothing short of a miracle. But as a result, Gondor had split away as their own fiefdom until the heir of Isildur revealed himself once more. A decision that would bring much danger to the heir who decided upon such a course of action.
"What troubles you, dear heart?" A soothing baritone asked from just behind her. Though she had been absorbed within her thoughts, and would have normally been quite startled, the glowing warmth within her told her exactly who stood beside her.
Eruraviel turned with a smile, her verdant eyes soft as she locked gazes with the bright azure of her mate.
"Locked in possibilities and risks. Tracing him will prove to be a difficult challenge. Especially without more information on him." Eruraviel informed Glorfindel as he linked his arm with hers and they continued down the hall. A frown briefly sparked across his face, as he thought over her words.
"Maybe so, but we have fought and emerged victorious on less information before. We will have to be cautious. The others arrive tomorrow afternoon, and we will decide what our course of action shall be then. For now, don't borrow trouble from the future, it will doubtlessly find us on its own." Glorfindel mused, guiding her into their chambers where she smiled upon seeing the meal set out on the table for them both. Glorfindel threw her a stern look when he saw her amusement.
"Don't think I don't know that both you and Erestor skipped lunch today." Glorfindel chastised. Eruraviel flushed and took her seat, keeping herself from responding with a smart comment as she knew this was done out of love and concern for her even if it rankled slightly. The uncompromising look in his eyes and buried in his faer let her know that he neither regretted his decision nor would it ever change.
As she took a bite of the soup, her mind turned to the many changes that had sprung up since her bonding to Glorfindel. Besides the obvious and once more having a home, she was finding herself building a routine. Something that she hadn't done since Gondolin had fallen. While relaxing it also made her nervous as well, a deep-rooted fear that something would happen to destroy the peace, love and life she was building in Imladris.
"Your worries seem entrenched tonight love. What is keeping you from putting aside your worries?" Glorfindel asked, taking a sip from his wine. Eruraviel sighed, spearing a carrot on her fork even as her eyes clouded lightly in memory.
"I am seeing parallels…" Eruraviel murmured. A hand clasped her as a demanding pull on her faer made her blink away the haze and focus on her mate.
Glorfindel's eyes were serious and understanding even as he held her gaze.
"I know, love, I can see them as well. But this time, we are not wearing blinders nor are we arrogant enough to assume that nothing could ever pose a threat to us. We're not in Gondolin dearest. Nor will we let Imladris become another city of tragedy. But letting the past cloud our thoughts will only keep us from seeing everything that stands before us now. All we can do is build ourselves stronger and grow from what we have lost so long ago. We are in a place to help Eruraviel. Trust that both ourselves and our allies will do what needs to be done to keep us all safe." Glorfindel emphasized firmly. Eruraviel watched him with wide eyes as he cut right to the core of the worries that had been plaguing her for days. Taking a shuddering breath, she gave him a tumultuous smile and squeezed his hand.
"Together then?" She asked softly, and he gave her a heart warming smile of love, devotion and assurance.
"Always, till the stars themselves die and beyond."
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Eruraviel stood in the shadows as she watched the elves summoned for the conference slowly congregate in the hall. Thranduil's tall form swept through the hall, his pale blue eyes serious as he exchanged words with Cirdan who had come from the Haven's of Lindon. Cirdan hadn't been in Imladris since they assembled for the final march on the Black Gate led by Ereinion millennia ago. She could see Galadriel and Celeborn talking with Galdor who had come with Cirdan for the council. Elrond was deep in conversation with Gildor, the leader of the Wandering Tribe who wandered from haven to haven spending nearly all of their time in the wilds of Arda.
As Elrond moved to take his seat, she stepped from the shadows ignoring the curious looks from the Elves she had yet to personally meet or be introduced to. Glorfindel sat beside her to the left of Elrond and Celebrian. Galadriel and Celeborn sat on his other side, and the elves slowly took the seats, preparing for a long and no doubt arduous discussion.
"The reason for this gathering is of a serious nature, an issue that could threaten us all and cripple any possibility of a united front against Annatar." As Elrond spoke, all the elves straightened an inner fire flashing in their eyes. It was something Eruraviel was relieved to see, as she had met too many who were just too tired to fight and gave up without ever trying.
"What has happened?" Cirdan asked, the lilting rhythm of his words reminding her of the push and pull of the tides that crashed upon shores and chipped away and unbreakable walls.
"The Dark One has ensnared a new ally, one who despite all logic and past misdeeds between the two, has joined forces in hopes of regaining power lost long ago." Galadriel announced. Worry sparked and Thranduil leaned forward, his fingers linked under his chin while his eyes darkened in thought.
"And just who is it that has turned against us and why?" Thranduil demanded. Eruraviel sighed, and eyes fell on her.
"Amongst those he 'leads' he is known as the Litch King. Uncovered information leads us to believe him to be a fallen Númenórean, possibly from the Black Númenóreans that settled in Harad after Elendil and the others fled the wave that destroyed Numenor and Annatar's last form. He seems to be hoping that Annatar will regrant him the Kingdom of Numenor and let him hold the throne." Eruraviel explained, weariness in her bearing. She was so tired of seeing their world tearing themselves apart.
Gildor sighed, his shaking head causing his pale blond hair to slide over his shoulder in a wave.
"The Númenórean people were so strong, I don't think any other human kingdom lasted nearly as long. Yet now their surviving people live divided and as enemies aiming to eliminate the other. We have all seen the troubles and chaos that a Civil War leaves in its wake. The Firstborn have still not recovered from the horrors of the Kin-slaying. And now we face the same trial with our closest siblings, many of whom will not head any warning we may give them." Gildor mourned, a personal grief in his eyes. A grief that Eruraviel knew many in the room carried; some more heavily than others, she thought, her gaze settling on Elrond's darkened mercury eyes.
"So another human has hopes above his station. What harm could he cause us?" Thranduil demanded, a hidden nugget of scorn in his voice and posture. Eruraviel's eyes closed in resignation at the disdain the Woodland King carried for any of the other races. A scorn she feared would come to cause more harm than any of his other decisions in the future.
"Because his actions have already led to the deaths of 17 elves, and his kidnapping of Celebrian. The only reason she is now safe and unharmed in because they happened to attract Eruraviel's attention." Celeborn forced out, a glare forming in his pale eyes at the dismissive attitude of the other elven ruler. Not the Eruraviel blamed him. Thranduil was getting on her nerves as well. Said King trailed his eyes over her, making Glorfindel stiffen beside her. She placed a calming hand on his thigh, well used to some peoples dismissive attitude towards her.
"And how were you able to go against such a force alone?" Thranduil demanded. Cirdan sighed before she could reply and she blinked at the scolding look on the visage of the Ancient Elda.
"I know exactly who she is, and the deeds attached to her name. Her station stands above even yours young king, mind your words." Cirdan scolded. She felt a flash of amusement from Glorfindel that puzzled her even and he gave her the impression of patience, that he would explain later. She focused once more and decided to put Thranduil out of his misery as he obviously was unaware of who she was.
"My name is Eruraviel of Gondolin, now Imladris and mate of Glorfindel. I believe the deed Lord Cirdan to be referring to is the death of Thuringwethil at my hands during the attack on Gondolin. I have grown well accustomed to fighting greater numbers alone. As such, freeing Celebrian was not an impassable trial. The Númenórean that the Dark One has pulled to his side is using a force made of humans and orcs, though the humans seemed ensnared by foul magics more than a willing force." Elrond nodded at her words, even as Thranduil's eyes widened in shocked surprise, much to the amusement of Glorfindel and herself.
"Indeed, this Litch King has the dark forces on his side, and the Corsairs are already under his control. Gondor has already pulled back from continuing their fight against Castamir's line when Eldacar forced them out of Pelagir and they retreated the Harad. Now their forces are showing sighs of marshalling once more." Elrond announced solemnly. Silence fell at his words, as all thought over the chaos that still gripped Gondor after their civil war and now the constant fighting against Angmar that was destroying what few Númenórean strongholds remained in the west.
"So what must we do? We cannot let such forces marshal alongside Mordor or the free peoples will be embroiled in open war once again. However, Gondor will not head our warnings, not the Rangers as they are still trying to save those left. Their only real hold left besides the Angle just south of here is Fornost Erain and it is far from being reachable with any speed." Galdor questioned. Elrond placed a large map on the table several areas marked out showing the divisions that the three-way civil war between Eärendur's son a few hundred years ago. With Eruraviel's maps, she and Erestor had marked all friendly and non-friendly ally's as well as the current 'front line' against Sauron and the Forces of Harad. It also had Celebrian's attack marked as well as the route the enemy had taken to get to her. All leaned forward their gazes fixed on the map.
"We know the current boundaries, but we lack information on just which line this Litch King hails from. We believe him to be targeting the elven realms as we present the biggest threat at the moment as the other human realms remain embroiled in internal and external conflicts." Elrond began, with Cirdan nodding at his later words.
"Indeed, the roads between the Gray Havens and Imladris grow in danger by the day. Bandits, Rouges, Orcs, Goblins and Wargs grow in number every day. Angmar's reach grows as the few remaining Númenóreans are forced to retreat farther and farther into Fornost Erain. The lands grow lawless." Cirdan informed the rest of the council, all beginning to look troubled.
"Are there any other ally's that might be of aid to this purpose?" Gildor questioned, his gaze tracing the red lines of the enemy gathered in the East and South. Eruraviel sighed, wondering if her idea was even worth suggesting. Many would baulk and Thranduil would be a nightmare to convince… A look from both Glorfindel and Elrond had her speaking up, despite her doubts.
"There is only one who could be the ally we need in this fight…" Eruraviel started, her gaze locking on Celeborn who frowned and glanced at the table, his gaze clouding in thought and memories.
Upon seeing the looks of the others, she stood and walked over to the map, grabbing a quill and ink on the way. She wordlessly began tracing lines along the border, her new marks shoring up the weakened areas that left holes in their defenses that the enemy would doubtlessly exploit.
"It seems perfect, but what aren't you saying?" Galdor asked in confusion matched by several others.
"The Dwarrow." Was all Eruraviel stated and the room erupted into chaos, Thranduil the loudest amongst the protestors.
"You CANNOT be serious! Why would those greedy rock crawlers ever be helpful?"
"They'll only turn around to stab us in the back!"
Eruraviel watched in dim amazement at the close minded nature of those around her as only a few remained from loosing their minds. A sharp bang made silence fall as Galadriel lifted her hand from where it had slammed onto the table to halt the caterwauling.
"While some of you," Galadriel started throwing a look a Thranduil to silence him, "find asking the Dwarrow for help to be distasteful, think this through. The Elven Realms no longer have the forces necessary to stand on our own without damning the future of our people on this side of the sea. We cannot stand alone in this fight. Our battles with the Dwarrow have been numerous, yes, but we have moved passed them. Their race holds a strength and dauntless determination that may just be the key to changing the course our future is headed towards. We must either unite and stand together or we will fall divided, crushed under the heel of our enemies." Galadriel commanded.
Cirdan nodded, a firm and uncompromising look in his eyes.
"Our people have overcome worse. The humans cannot be the ally we need right now, it just isn't possible. Our only option in the Dwarrow." Cirdan stated in agreement, placing his hand on the map.
"Would they even listen to us? The relations between our races aren't the best right now." Gildor asked. Many among them frowned, Eruraviel included. Suddenly her eyes widened, making Glorfindel throw her a confused look.
"I can pass a message on to a dwarrow who will understand the significance of this problem. I trust him to bring it to the attention of those in power, who will trust his word. From there, we may just have to build this alliance piece by piece. There will doubtlessly be bad blood on both sides that we will have to work to overcome." Eruraviel spoke up. Celeborn and Galadriel's eyes widened in comprehension, remembering the Dwarrow Company that Eruraviel was friends with.
"Why would they trust you?" Thranduil demanded. Throwing the woodland king a reprimanding look, Eruraviel decided to explain just so that she wouldn't need to repeat herself many times over later.
"Many years ago, in the second age, I fought with these Dwarrow in a major battle, one of many that lasted nearly nine years of constant fighting. They accepted me as blood-kin afterwards and my bonds with them hold to this day. They will heed my words. More than that, I cannot promise." Eruraviel explained shortly. Cirdan nodded, as did Elrond. However, Thranduil and Gildor seemed doubtful about whether or not the dwarves would actually be of help in this crusade. Eruraviel knew enough about Thranduil to know that there was little she would be able to say or do to convince him without tangible proof. She had had some deep worries about the woodland King and the damage his attitude could cause as it was very similar to the clashing personalities that led to the fall of Doriath and the War between the Dwarrow and the Elves in the first place. Thranduil had become King very young, and under tragic circumstances, but he had only become entrenched in his fear of the other races; and where fear dwelled hatred would surely follow.
"We must do something, and right now, the Dwarven Realm will be our only source of aid in this fight. They hold a strength that will save many before the end. We cannot afford to led past conflicts blind us from making the alliances that we need to keep from being destroyed by Annatar and his forces. There is a reason Annatar despised the Dwarrow. Their resilience to his foul sorcery prevented corruption from seeding within their peoples leaving them a formidable enemy against him in this war." Celeborn announced. Thranduil's mouth clicked shut, he knew of Celeborn's history with the Dwarves. If the Elder was siding with Eruraviel on this decision, then Thranduil really had no room to complain or protest.
Gildor leaned forward, a spark of interest filling his gaze as he stared at Elrond.
"So what do we say to them? How are we to phrase this in such a way so that they take it with the seriousness it deserves; without diminishing our own strength and leaving us open for ridicule or backlash?" Gildor asked, his fingers drumming out an unheard rhythm on the table.
"Where are we to place our own troops? For without knowing our own decision, we cannot ask them for aid." Galdor enquired solemnly. Eruraviel knew the grief budding within his gaze was due to him acknowledging the loss of life that was sure to follow in this conflict. Life that was precious and hard won by the elves since the Battle of the Last Alliance.
The three Elven Rulers observed the map, figures and logistics running through their minds. Planning a war involved more than just open conflict and death. Food, supplies, healers, Horses and their feed, weapons and terrain could make or break a battle. If their supply lines got cutoff or the warriors lacked necessary food and healing supplies, they could lose over half of their people simply due to sickness and starvation. Not to mention the loss of morale amongst them. They also needed to make sure communication between the realms, as well as between each realm and their troops. Information would be worth more than gold in the months and years to come.
"I can spare a dozen of our Swan Ships; however, it will mean cutting back on the number of ships that can carry our brothers and sisters across the sea. This will allow us to keep the Bay of Belfalas and the Island of Tolfalas. If they try to send another ship across the waters or try to carry large amounts of soldiers by sea, we can put a stop to it." Cirdan inputted. Eruraviel swallowed a sigh of relief. The Swan Ships Lord Cirdan was referring to were far larger than the smaller ships used to carry passengers and were well armed and accustomed to a battle on the water. Far more than any soldiers from Harad would be. They just required a larger crew to operate at full strength, taking elves away from piloting the vessels across the sea.
"Imladris will send two companies to the Island. This will free up your men to focus on the waters. We will also send four companies to Kiril, at the south fork of the Morchond River in the White Mountains. It is a lesser used path, oft neglected by the Gondorian Patrols and would allow Harad easy access into the west." Elrond stated. She blinked when she saw small carved figurines being moved into position on the larger map. The familiarity with them that Elrond showed made her realized they probably hadn't been used since the strategy sessions with King Gil-Galad. She threw him a concerned look, knowing the loss of the King still troubled his Herald. Elrond threw her a brief smile and refocused on the map as Celeborn moved several other figurines into position along the Entwash River south of Fangorn Forest.
"While entering Fangorn would be a decision they wouldn't live long enough to regret, the river poses a possible weakness and opening to the mountains. It would give them a staging point to attack both Imladris and Lorien." Celeborn explained. Gildor frowned, leaning over the table.
"Wouldn't the Dwarves of Hadhodrond be able to deal with such an influx?" Gildor questioned. Eruraviel shook her head, drawing all eyes to her.
"While they have more than enough strength to keep any attacker out of Hadhodrond, there are many other tunnels in the neighboring mountains that the Orcs have been carving out. King Durin is still locked in continual engagements with them as they breed like rats. The Orcs have also been adapting to the smaller spaces and lighting, becoming thinner, faster, and more agile. The dwarrow have taken to calling them Goblins due to the drastic differences that they have developed. As such, while Khazad-dum would be able to defend itself, they would be unlikely to send aid further out into the mountains. We would be best served from preventing Harad from gaining such a foothold as it would make travel between the Elven Realms of the East traveling to the west impossible and incredibly dangerous. Many already ride south through the Gap of Rohan rather than risk the mountain paths." Eruraviel explained, using the dwarven name for Hadhodrond.
Thranduil leaned forward, concern now present.
"How long has this been going on?" Thranduil asked. Eruraviel tilted her head, thinking over her various encounters both with the dwarves of Khazad-dum and the Goblins themselves.
"Just over six hundred years or so. I've encountered the Goblins a few times, and they have truly turned into decrepit creatures of the dark. They have somehow become stupider, but their agility has become far more developed than their brutish cousins. The problem is that they are increasing in number far more rapidly than any of us expected. With the Goblins, you're never facing a single band or a few dozen. They travel in packs with hundreds. They are more like a swarm of locus than an enemy company, which makes them dangerous and it becomes easier to be overrun. They have also begun to dig so deep into the mountains that even King Durin is worried over what they may unbury." Eruraviel finished.
"What of Redhorn Pass?" Galadriel questioned. Eruraviel sighed.
"The Goblins have begun to encroach upon that as well. The Misty Mountains are becoming far more dangerous than ever before." Eruraviel stated finally.
"Then we will leave the Mountain Battles to those best suited to them. I think it would be best to pass on a warning to King Durin but let him decide what he wishes to do. Eruraviel, do you think you could take him a message at the same time you pass on the messages to the other dwarven realms?" Cirdan asked. Eruraviel withheld a grimace. She may be Blood-kin to the Dwarrow of Durin's Folk, but she disliked going underground. She always felt as though the darkness pressed in on her and brought forth too many shadowed memories. Feeling Glorfindel's spike of worry, she squeezed his hand and nodded to Lord Cirdan.
"Aye, I can take them the message." Eruraviel confirmed.
"I don't like involving the dwarves, however, I will send three companies south to the Brown Lands and Dargolad. I don't like sending my men near the Marshes, but we already know that Dargolad is a favorite path of the enemy in the attacks on the west." Thranduil decided, a grimace of distaste on his visage. Eruraviel shuddered along with several others at the mention of the Dead Marshes. There was a foul magick on that place that prevented the dead from resting and turning the land around into poisonous, scorched earth.
"Then the message to the Iron Hills will ask them to closely monitor the Sea of Rhun and the Mountains of the East. Hopefully, they will be receptive to our warnings." Elrond finalized. Eruraviel let out a sigh of relief as the meeting drew to a close and left with Glorfindel to the inner Gardens.
"What troubles you about visiting Hadhodrond?" Glorfindel asked, his arm a comforting weight around her shoulders.
Shaking her head, Eruraviel sighed.
"I don't know. Something in the mountains unsettles me. I worry for King Durin and his subjects, but I know not what unsettles me so." Eruraviel frowned, frustration filling her. She had been troubled by such feelings for centuries as she just could not understand why.
"Would you like me to accompany you with the other messengers?" Glorfindel offered. He unfortunately would be going south to set up the outpost in Kiril, while she would be carrying messages. He had most emphatically made it known that he did not agree with her going anywhere without him. But war seldom cooperated.
"I wish you could Meleth-nin. But your men need you as well. I, at least, will be among allies and friends. They may be going into battle, and they will need your strength and wisdom." Eruraviel disagreed reluctantly. Had she known what awaited her during her visit, nothing could have pried her from Glorfindel's arms.
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"I still don't like this." Glorfindel murmured, each of them sitting on their horses. Asfaloth, the Gondolin Steed he had recently bonded to, was still far too young to be used in combat. Galadriel was headed to Lorien alone, as Celeborn needed to stay with his own Foal. However, the mental communication between the two meant they would seldom be out of contact, thus making the parting more bearable. Galadriel would've stayed if she could, but one of the two needed to be in Lorien during these engagements.
Eruraviel threw her mate an amused look at his muttering.
"I know, Meleth-nin. However, this must happen. These messages cannot wait if we are to emerge triumphant in this fight. You will need to be the one watching your back." Eruraviel cautioned him. He was heading into an unknown situation after all, though their journeys would be about the same length as he wasn't remaining with his men. His purpose was to lead and establish their outpost in Kiril and then return. At that point, Anthren, another Captain of the Guard would take his place.
Erestor, Elladan, Elrohir and five others were accompanying her to visit King Durin. Elrond stood nearby a frown on his face. Eruraviel nudged Arvellas forward, worry for the Elven Lord sparking within her.
"Elrond?" Eruraviel asked softly. Elrond threw her a troubled smile.
"I know not what troubles me, but I feel your journey to Hadhodrond may be more dangerous than any of us anticipated, though I know not why." Elrond confessed, sending her a worry filled frown.
Eruraviel swallowed, her own unease increasing at his words. Normally, while she didn't love visiting Khazad-dum, she didn't fear it. Now she was.
"Then we will be cautious and watchful." Eruraviel promised, knowing he worried for all of them. Including his twin sons that were accompanying her. The Hollin Hills could be dangerous with the fell wolves, twisted holly trees that attacked any who neared along with the wandering wargs and orcs.
"You all are vital to our future, be cautious and keep your eyes open for the enemy. May the Valar watch over you all." Elrond stated in farewell. She waved along with those accompanying her, throwing a last loving look at Glorfindel as they took separate trails out of Imladris. As Arvellas climbed the rocky path towards Eregion, Erestor came up beside her while the others fell in line behind them on the path.
"It is not just Elrond that is troubled by our journey." Erestor murmured softly. Eruraviel shook her head.
"Nay, I am as well. More so than I normally am." She replied. A softer baritone spoke up behind her.
"How so?" Elladan asked. Glancing back, trusting Arvellas on the path without hesitation, she gave a grim smile.
"I dislike being so far underground as the darkness feels ever present and causes unpleasant memories so surface. However, this time, I truly dread the thought of entering. Had we another option, I would not willingly take this path." Eruraviel explained in seriousness. Elladan gulped, while the others straightened, becoming even more cautious at her words. Something she greatly appreciated.
Talk was sparse on their journey to the Dwarven Stronghold, each consumed in thought of what may lie in wait for them. Attacks by wandering orc parties were few and far between with each being easily dispatched with no wounds taken by the elves. As the Western Gate to Khazad-dum loomed before them, they awaited nightfall with trepidation. None more so than Eruraviel. As nightfall loomed and Eärendil began his nightly journey across the sky, Eruraviel threw one last look at the heavens above before standing in front of the door alit with Moon Runes.
"Mellon." Eruraviel spoke firmly, watching as the door split down the center and began sliding open. Before it opened completely, the Elven Party found themselves standing before a group of seven dwarves. All of which, were clad in heavy armor holding weapons at the ready. Their battle ready stance eased upon seeing Eruraviel, easing further when they verified her identity upon seeing the daggers sheathed on her waist.
"Ho, Fire Soul! It has been some time since you have graced our halls. King Durin will be pleased to see you once more." The lead dwarf called cheerfully, ushering their group inside. As the door slid closed, Eruraviel took a small bracing breath as the darkness settled in, lit only by the lamps upon the walls and the torches held by the dwarrow passing by.
"Indeed, much has changed for me in that time. I will happily share my news with King Durin when it is convenient for him as I know our arrival was unexpected. How fare your people against the horde?" Eruraviel enquired as their guide led them deeper into the mountain. She could see the awe on the faces of the other elves, including Erestor who had only been to the Iron Hills and Blue Mountain Settlements. Well, and Erebor before it fell to disuse during the latter end of the first age. She sighed upon seeing the large number of stairs, hiding a grin at Elrohir's muffled groan at the sight.
"We will be glad to hear your tales this night, Fire Soul. The fighting goes as planned, however the Horde began digging far deeper than any of us would like. We know better than to dig to the heart of the mountain or through the roots of it lest it come down around our ears. However, they dug so deep, that in order to break through their tunnel and route them out, we've had to match the depth. It has been making all of us mighty uncomfortable, I must admit." She finally placed his name, Grundil, one of the Guard Captains of the Western Gate.
Her heart gave a lurch of worry at his words, well understanding his worries, for they were ones she shared.
"With the fortunes of the Valar, hopefully we can route them before they go any deeper or force you to do so. Such words bring grave worries to my heart, my friend." Eruraviel returned as they finally reached the guest wing off the twenty first hall. Grundil nodded, his own green eyes dark. Their rooms were sized for their company thankfully, which meant that none of them had to stoop. No conversation was had until all of their gear had been placed, as Arvellas and the other horses had been left in the stables by the west gate.
"What worries them about the tunnel?" Elladan questioned, his voice showed he was curious, but his manner said that he worried over what the answer would be.
"Mountain Ranges are dangerous places Elladan. Not just the outer dangers the wider world is aware of, but those that lie within as well. The Dwarrow have long since learned that digging to the heart of the Mountain could cause the entire dwelling to collapse in on itself due to instability and weight. However, when digging into the deep, one runs the risk of unearthing or disturbing that which ought to be left buried. Many an empire has been brought to its knees because of that very thing. Because you risk not only your own people, but those outside the mountain when it breaks free." Erestor explained, wary over the words Grundil had shared that sparked his own memories from the first age. All of the younger elves were now worried as well, though it wasn't as deep rooted as the worry filling Eruraviel and Erestor. She traded solemn looks with the counselor and stood as a knock sounded on the wooden door.
She popped the door open, giving Grundil a smile that he returned easily.
"King During asks that ye join us for the evenin' feast as his guests. He is eager to hear your tales." Grundil conveyed happily. Eruraviel smiled, and acknowledged that tonight would probably be the best time to inform the king of her news, more than just the personal events as well.
"We would be glad to accompany you, and are grateful for the invitation. I apologize if our arrival interrupted plans King Durin had. But we come with grave tidings of our own that we did not risk with birds." Eruraviel explained as they weaved through the maze like network of halls that led to the Kings Hall. She could see Elladan and Elrohir gazing about in wonder, excitement and curiosity that the others aside from her and Erestor were feeling. Erestor was impressed as Hadhodrond was of far higher standing than Erebor or the Iron Hills.
The Kings Hall, with the polished granite floors matched with contrasting marble columns or white and gold were alit in flickering flame and gem light. Brilliant Azure banners embossed with the glowing white Kings symbol of Seven Stars over a crown, hung from each column. A large table that easily sat several dozen ran length wise down the hall between the columns. At the head of the table, seated in his normal armor and sapphire colored garments with a crown made from Mithril and Sapphires was King Durin. Well, his latest incarnation anyway.
Eruraviel smiled, said smile widening when she heard the gasps of her companions. Grundil led her and her group to the head of the table where she was seated to King Durin's right, next to his son Nain. Erestor sat to her immediate right, followed by the twins and then the rest of their group.
"It has been some time since you've graced my Halls Fire Soul. I am glad to see you once more, looking happier and more settled than ever before. Tell me, what has brought such great change upon you?" King Durin enquired as the rest of the court and guests took their seats so that the food could be served.
"I must admit it caught me by surprise as well. A year and some ago, while traveling on the east side of your mountains, I came across an elleth that had been kidnapped by a group of Orcs working side by side with Humans. I was able to free her without having to engage the band and return her home. It turned out that said elleth was Lady Celebrian, Wife of Lord Elrond and Daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." Eruraviel paused to eat some of her soup, seeing the sharp look forming in King Durin's eyes. He easily understood that she was passing off crucial information to him, hidden within lighter conversation. His mind instantly locked onto the fact that she had mention orcs working alongside humans, not with human captives or mercenaries.
"That is a surprise, I hadn't thought either of those realms could be so caught off guard." King Durin mentioned, taking a hefty bite of his bread. Prince Nain look just as surprised.
"Indeed. They had only caught wind of her capture when it was too late to change. When escorting her home to Imladris, Lord Celeborn asked that I accompany them." She paused as King Durin nodded.
"Makes sense, lassie. You had the most familiarity with the kidnappers after all." King Durin murmured. She gave him a sardonic look that had him laughing, knowing how much she had avoided the elven realms as they had fought about it before. He had always, every time they met, tried to convince her to visit one of the four realms. He said that such prolonged separation from her people was doing more harm than good.
"Along the way, I managed to spot an ambush they had laid. During the ensuing fight, I ended up fighting the archers who had hidden in the trees. It was the humans. However, they seemed daze, confused and listless. As though not even conscious. The last one I killed, moments before he died as I struck the killing blow, his eyes cleared and he smiled at me in thanks." Eruraviel stopped as Prince Nain looked alarmed.
"That sounds like foul magics!" The Prince hissed. King Durin nodded.
"Aye inùdoy, magics thought lost long ago. This is ill news." Durin confirmed looking troubled.
"After returning her home, I went south to Pelagir, tracking the humans of the band. They came by ship from Celedir, nearby the City or Corsairs. I snuck in and learned that they are starting to follow this self-proclaimed Litch King. He is human, over seventy years of age, still in prime fighting condition and has allied with Sauron in hopes of being crowned King of a Kingdom destroyed long ago." Eruraviel stopped, eating the roast as King During frowned, his mind easily making the same connections hers had.
"That is ill news lassie. This will not be an easy thing to stand against." The King finally said, though Prince Nain was still looking confused. She refrained from explaining any further to him, trusting that his father could handle that.
"It was on my return to Imladris with the information," Here she stopped as Erestor interrupted her.
"After healing due to receiving fractured ribs, skull and exhaustion and not having told anyone that she was going into Harad alone for said information." Eruraviel threw the counselor a dirty look as King Durin threw her a chiding one filled with reprimand.
"Lassie, you know better than that. If you insist on travelling alone, you cannot risk such actions. That was very foolish and could have gotten you killed. Don't think I don't know how dangerous Harad is for the Firstborn right now." King Durin chided her. Eruraviel flushed and kicked a smirking Erestor in the leg under the table in revenge. She'd hoped to leave that part out.
"I have been duly reprimanded. Upon my return, I bonded to Lord Glorfindel, who I had been unaware had been returned to Middle Earth. He was not pleased with my actions. The only reason he let me out of his sight right now is for a few reasons; One I am not travelling alone, and two, I stand amongst friends. He himself is in the south keeping setting up an outpost to watch for more intruders from Harad. Several other outposts are being formed by the other elven realms. We'd inform the other humans, but –"
"That would do no good as they listen to no one but themselves and are still locked in a civil war." King Durin finished, and Eruraviel nodded. She pulled out the map of the new outposts and lines and handed it to him.
"We don't ask for aid, we just wished to inform you of the dangers and our new outposts. We doubt they will be foolish enough to risk crossing your mountains, but more foolish actions have been attempted before." Eruraviel informed him. King Durin laughed, taking the map and placing it into his coat.
"They would not live long enough to regret such moronic actions for we would tear them apart!" King Durin roared, slamming his fist on the table to emphasize his words.
Calming, he threw her a smirk.
"Finally found yourself caught by someone more determined than yourself, eh?" King Durin teased. Eruraviel flushed, pushing a strand of crimson hair behind her ear.
"By the time I realized what was happening, he wouldn't let me pull back away from him." Eruraviel confirmed, her eyebrow twitching in a mix of irritation and exasperation.
King Durin laughed, glee lighting his eyes.
"A fine mate for you then, to beat you in will Fire Soul! With luck he may keep your tempestuous spirit from getting you into trouble. I know the tales of Lord Glorfindel whose actions match your own. He will be a fine strong mate for you and an excellent father to any pebbles the two of you have." King Durin finished, as the meal drew to a close. At the mention of children, Eruraviel turned bright red making those around her laugh and she to growl.
Damn Dwarves.
LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE
"Why am I doing this again?" Erestor asked plaintively as they walked deeper into the war tunnel built by the dwarves to interest the Goblin tunnel being dug deep into the mountain's roots. The heavy metal boots of the dwarrow echoed behind her, along with the near silent steps of the elven party.
Eruraviel threw the counselor an amused look.
"Because you refused to let me do this without you and because you said it would be good for other elves to fight against the goblins and learn for yourselves what they are capable of in battle?" Eruraviel repeated his reasoning back to him. King Durin had asked if she wished to accompany the party attacking the Horde and, eager to express some of her frustration and help her friends, she agreed. The others hadn't been so pleased when she did so but demanded to come along. So now, here they were traveling deeper and deeper into the mountain. The air became colder for a good while, before warming considerably which she found strange. Her heart rate picked up and she felt Glorfindel brush his faer along hers in concern. She sent the feeling of battle tempered patience and will and while she felt his sudden spark of worry, he said nothing. She could, however, feel him home in on her emotions intently.
Fraldor, head of the dwarven company leading the charge held up a closed fist for silence. Eruraviel drew her daggers, knowing that they would be far more useful than her sword in such tight quarters. Fraldor threw his arm forward and seven dwarrow ran by at full speed holding battering rams. With a ear breaking boom, the thin wall between the two tunnels collapsed and they poured through the opening into the goblin made tunnel. Immediately screams from the goblins echoed down the tunnels, screams Eruraviel tuned out as she made her way through the horde without hesitation, her daggers cutting off limbs, beheading and disemboweling the skittering Goblins. Grunts of frustration came from the other elves as they struggled to adapt to an enemy that climbed on the walls and ceiling with ease, moving rapidly from one position to another.
They pressed on, forcing the goblins back deeper down their own tunnels. Eruraviel kept the elven group together, more than once having to step in to keep them from getting a nasty surprise from the goblins on the roof of the tunnels that they had overlooked. Erestor was doing fine, and drawing shocked looks from the rest of the elven group as he easily spun his daggers and made the Goblins skitter away in fear.
They had been fighting for more than an hour when the goblins began screeching and fled down the tunnel without looking back, leaving the elves and dwarves standing in stunned confusion. Eruraviel, worried over what had caused such an exodus, held up a hand to keep Elladan from speaking. She closed her eyes walking a few meters deeper in the tunnel to tune out the breaths of her companions. Erestor stayed with her but timed his breathing to sync with her own to minimize sound.
It sounded like…breathing?
She and Erestor traded puzzled looks.
"It sounds like one of the bellows from the great forges…" Fraldor mumbled. Eruraviel froze, her mind jumping through little nuggets of information. She knelt and placed her hand on the stone and trembled when it was warm, almost hot to the touch. She went absolutely white as pure, almost blind terror crashed through her.
Glorfindel's faer surged within her, and she sent her memory impressions to him of the last few moments. Seconds later, she felt an absolute command shudder its way through her, entrenching itself until she could do naught but obey.
RUN
"RUN!" Eruraviel commanded simultaneously, catching everyone off guard. She pushed relentlessly, until their group was literally running back up the tunnel. Fear was coursing through her heart, memories trying to flood her mind as Glorfindel's own heightened emotions screamed on the other side of their bond. They poured out of the tunnel in haste, startling those who had been waiting for them including King Durin and his son.
Upon seeing her face, King Durin pulled his sword free, his battle mask covering his face.
"Bring the tunnel down! Now!" Eruraviel yelled. Thank all the Valar above, the King listened and a cascading boom sounded as the long tunnel began to collapse.
"Everyone out of here! Get them out!" She yelled. King Durin grabbed her hand as he ran along side of her, dwarves fleeing from the lower levels.
"What is coming?" King Durin demanded.
With dark memories flooding her mind, the pounding of her heart in time with the heated stone below and an overwhelming terror clogging her soul, she turned chaotic ancient eyes to the reborn king running beside her.
"BALROG!"