Hello readers. This is Chapter 135. I can't believe it. I am 15 Chapters from finishing this. Well I hope its 15 but you know me. I tend to keep going. I would love to hear your feedback on my tale. This is my first draft and I do plan on rewriting it with an editor and all that. Story wise though, how am I doing? Have you been engaged? Did you see the twist coming or where they a surprise? Please let me know and thank you for reading.

A fog seemed to travel with them now. Rolling over the hills with their advance. The air had grown humid rather quickly. They were a small patrol, sneaky and listening. Looking for any sign of the elves. 'They should have arrived by now' Thurmog thought to himself. He was by far the sneakiest of all the orc also he was the craftiest. His sense of loyalty was non existent. He would sell his own mother to save his own skin. There was something wrong. He knew where they had been and the direction they were going. This is the place where they should be. He should hear something, smell something, see anything at this point.

With silent hand signals he sent a few of his spies forth. These orc did not wear metal armor. The were clad in leather and carried weapons of stealth. They could slink between the shadows and never be seen or heard. As they advance he scans the terrain. Craggy hills and evergreen trees. Under his feet a bed of their needles. He waited several moments more then he really should have needed. He attention drawn to the direction his spies had gone. All was silent but for the wind. Then a slight rustling of those needles in the distance. Silently he pulled his dagger from its sheathe and pressed his back to the rough rock behind him.

Why couldn't he smell the elves? It just was not making sense. Even if it were humans out there he should smell them, yet there was nothing. That was when he realized he could not smell the orc either. The arrow came from the darkness and pierced the fog to stick into the dirt above his head. His eyes shifting up to look upon the long elegant shaft. He dropped his dagger immediately.

He knew how to submit and he did so. down on his knees. His forehead to the ground. Groveling and begging for mercy. it was an elves natural instinct to kill orc and Thurmog knew that well. "Have mercy on Thurmog and he will tell you things." He whined and cried to the elves that surrounded him.

"What could you tell us that we don't already know orc?"

It was a deep smooth voice that asked such a question. He smiled before lifting his head then looked this tall glowing elf in the eye. His yellow round orb being pierced by the pale cold gaze of the elven eye. "The army that comes has 5000 orc, 300 troll, 2 maybe 3 hundred nasties all manner of foul creature the dark lord has created and a balrog." Thurmog grinned then to the Elf.

"A Balrog?" The elf asked and leaned in.

"Do you need more?" Thurmog chuckled.

The commander had Thrumog shackled as the bodies of his spies were all piled up before him. 'These are not ordinary elves are they?' He thought to himself. Soon he was being lead away and through the dark and fog. It was on this first journey that he began to realize the army of the eastern elves was massive. Far larger than he had been lead to believe. They passed garrison after garrison of mounted warriors and pikes. Then later rows and rows of archers. They were already assembled and ready to fight. They were not splintered and unaware.

Perhaps Thurmog was on the wrong side of this. Perhaps so were his kin. Unlike these old orc the new orc didnt have a particular beholding to the Dark Lord. They had idea's more their own. They wanted land of their own and to rule themselves. To betray their lord would not be a surprise. Finally they stopped before a large ornate tent and he was surrounded by guards. Not that he had any desire to go anywhere.

Thurmog was a new orc. One of the race Melkor had been working on since coming to the east. Created from Avanati and other races of elves these orc were taller and straighter than the old but perhaps not as muscular and powerful. He was gawked at by those that came near.

Before he knew it he was being shoved through a tents opening and there before him were some of the tallest and most intimidating looking elves he had ever seen. His jaw fell a little slack and his head tilted back to look up to them. Each of them seemed to glow with a light that almost hurt his eyes. He found himself looking away and his heart racing.

"You are willing to sell out your comrades? For what orc?" The tallest of them asked.

"The only ones I care for are my own kin. None of us are held sway by him. I think perhaps we are on the wrong side of this. I think My Kin would fight for you. If he speaks in lies you speak in truths. What you say to me will have meaning." Thurmog felt himself begin to breathe harder. The weight of just being near these elves was crushing.

"Now this is interesting. You say they have a Balrog and all manner of creature. Tell me the weakness of these creatures. I feel they will be more of a problem than this Balrog." The tall elf spoke again.

Thurmog leaned back and forced himself to look on them. "and if my information is good?"

"Then we will talk more about your kin." This time an elf with flaming red hair answered him.

"I need all of your Commanders to tell each different garrison what I am about to tell you. Then your battle today will go well as long as you deal with the Balrog." Thurmog smiled as pleasantly as he could to the elves.

Drannor eagerly headed into the east. This was one of those times he would get to play a true villian. He imagined his army would deal a heavy blow to the eastern elves and even if he lost the blow would devastate them. It mattered not to him, he knew the outcome anyway. As long as she made it to him no matter what happened out here would be worth it. So Drannor was ready to have fun. He would laugh as he rolled in the entrails of his enemy.

Yet near by he could feel it. The very faint yet familiar caress of a fea he knew so well. As the army rests he casually slipped away. Following the allure of that musky smell. There one a stone at the top of a hill sat Minol. Sending out his calling card on the breeze.

"How does my Lady fair Demon?" He asked as he slowly walked up the hill.

"The Queen fairs well. You seem well I see. I am guessing you dance off to meet the eastern elves." Minol rattled off in a sing song tone.

Drannor plopped his backside on the rock with a small hop and he sat there with his back to Minol's. "Indeed, it is time for me to get my hands dirty. I would rather by pass this whole thing but alas my dear friend it seems I must shed blood and I might as well have fun doing it."

Minol chuckled, he knew this feeling. He too had done the very same thing many times over the course of time. Truth be told Drannor was more like his than Minogos. Which was just fine in his opinion.

"He looked confused when work reached him of the defeat of the small force that was sent to meet this uncuth rabble in the east. At least that is what he thought of this force. He had no idea if would be capable of defeating them so easily. He began to scamble to split his forces now that war comes to him from 2 sides. He wants to crush these elves so badly he has sent a balrog along and Grish."

Drannor turned his head and looked on Minol's back with an amber eye.

"Grish? He really meant it didn't he. My my wont it be a hoot if the head of Grish was taken to him. Ahh well I don't suppose this rabble behind me will survive a balrog." Minol shrugged and slide from the rock. "Oh well as long as I deliver the package on time nothing changes."

"You seem rather unbothered by the news your allies will be crushed." Drannor narrowed his eyes and turned to look on a rather unfazed Minol.

"I stopped caring long ago Drannor. I have but one concern now. Have fun at the blood bath." Minol began to stroll away.

There was something in his demeanor that gave Drannor a chill. Perhaps this would be a huge loss to his Master. That will make things a bit more interesting wouldn't it.

There were many miles placed between them and the army of the dark lord in the following days. She was never without her cloak when she was outside her tent. This kept her invisible and she noted the cloaks of the others were similar. These returned elves held the glow of aman. Curufin and she had struck up a friendship. He liked to play cards and so did she, so often at night in the tent they played by candle light.

Sometimes Elthian would join, most times he would guard from outside. She had taught him to play all the games she knew and he picked them up quickly. He was surprised to learn these were games invented by men. While he preferred games like Kings and Queens, strategy games and so on, cards needed skill and cunning as well as a little luck. They talked about a bit of everything. Eventually the conversation drifted to Luthien.

Curufin had a lovely wife named Ronda. She gave him his son Celebrimbor. His brother Celegorm had no wife and was lonely. He met Luthien in Doriath and even spent time with her there and had grown to be enamored with her. When the chance arose for them to capture her, it was in hope that she would take the time to get to know Celegorm better and even learn to love him. "But it was not to be so for she loved another and he was a man no less. This angered my brother to no end. Huon abandoned him and helped Luthien escape. " Curufin sighed and looked to the Pixie who had stopped playing and was smiling eager to hear more of this story.

He chuckled and looked her in the eye. "He was love sick Juniper. It is the only time I have ever seen him like that. I think he has more liberal views of such matters now but back then one love was a serious thing."

She was still smiling even as she nodded a bit. "Well it got you both a reputation it appears. Elthian was very cautious about me being around you both at first. Celegorm is a bit more aloof than you."

"Yes he is and it appears I have won." He lay his hand down and she growled. "Now now my Lady that is not Queenly behavior."

"Oh shove the Queenly behavior and shuffle the cards. Its double or nothing on the next hand." She grumbled.

Celegorm waited at the edge of camp. The object of his obsession was not the pixie as it was for most. His was the demon. He had taken to studying Minol and was aware of when he just went missing from camp. His arms were crossed over his chest and his head hung down. His eyes were closed and just just listened and breathed deeply. He could sense more in this relaxed state than he would on full alert.

The change in the atmosphere is what got his attention. It always seemed a bit heavier. The air slightly thicker when Minol was present. This was not a change so easily noticed but Celegorm did. He moved then. Strolling towards the sensation without caring if he were noticed or not. He was lead to a stream and the dark shape of Minol crouched in the cold water.

"Where did you go Minol?"

"Have you not noticed the moon? Her desires grow by the hour and I am keenly affected. Yet I have no Elthian to work on frustrations so I walk and seek cold baths." Minol smirked and could see the wide eyed expression of Celegorm as moon light filtered down through the trees over head, casting dancing shadows over his face.

"Perhaps if he becomes unbearable you would not need so many cold baths if you were to seek me out. I have been watching you Minol. I find you curious, He radiate evil but your actions are honorable. There is more to you and I would like to see it."

Celegorm was indeed fair. He had a more masculine look to him than most elves. He reminded Minol of Thranduil with long features and pale eyes. His lips were full and kissable and framing his face was a sea of silver hair. The idea was tempting to Minol and he found himself grinning a bit wickedly.

"You are being quite bold Elf. You do know you offer yourself to a demon. I am not always so gentle." Minol rose from the water naked and shimmering in the moon light.

"I am offering you more my body." Celegorm leveled his serious gaze upon Minol. "I want to be your companion for as long as we have. I am indeed an elf but it has never been another elf that ever got my attention or affection. "

Minol had no words. This was unexpected and not at all in his script. Why did such delights just seem to pop up here and there. "That time may be short."

"So be it." The elf said then turned as if to walk away. You may not feel the chill of this night but I do. I think I would prefer a small fire and something soft to lay on. Perhaps you will join me."

Minol answered with a gentle nod and watched as the fair haired ellon moved through the trees finding him would be easy enough. They were no longer hiding from each other.

Grish had gotten an early start. He lead the horde of foul creatures across the rolling hills and past a spattering of trees. If they encountered any elves he expected them to be wholly unprepared. The sun was beginning to rise on a dark clouded sky. Mist clung to the ground and a heavy fog rolled along. No scents were being flagged. The creatures moved along as if nothing were amiss.

Onward this crawling clicking onslaught of bugs went. Things most foul he even perverted the insects of the land. Their hungry mouths opening and closing as feelers and tentacles search the soil. Up a rise they go . Grish following behind with his battalion of orc. Then a scream penetrates the silence. Then another until all the creatures that went up that rise screamed in unison then silence again.

Grish backed away slowly at first as if he did not believe what he just heard, then quicker as he began to see shapes at the top of the rise. The white wizard flanked by a truly hideous thing, shrouded in pure light and brandishing a bow. A large pack of hounds came snarling over the rise as the light grew brighter and his battalion began to panic.

They spilled over the rise as a sea of light. These elves of the east far more powerful than their kin from the west cut through these troops as if they were merely butter. He watched many of the fall before a horse and rider barreled down upon him. With little time to react Grish flung himself forward and he tumbled down the hill. Then the ground began to shake and a roar filled with rage broke the air like thunder.

The bright red glow moved through the fog with one mighty step after the other. "Shadow and Flame." Gandalf said lowly as he stepped from the mist. "It is a pity to see our own kind in the midst of their downfall." Orome spoke as he stepped beside the wizard.

"Yeah? Well they can fall just as easy as any." Glorfindel now topped the rise. "I do not plan on dying this time."

"I do not think any of us will fall during this battle my friends." Thingol rode up to the small gathering that watched approaching doom.

"Just make sure you destroy the rest my Lord." Glorfindel looked up. "And keep my goddess safe. I know she is angry with me for keeping her out of this."

"Don't worry Glorfindel I plan on unleashing her upon the trolls along with your house soon enough. I think she shall be busy." Thingol assured him.

With that the 3 of them began to move towards their enemy. In Glorfindel's hand was the sword Anglachel. Of any of the Eldar Glorfindel was the one that could control such a mighty weapon. Thingol preferring to wield Aranrúth. Orome carried his bow and never ending quiva of arrows. On his hip was a large sword. Gandalf held Glamdring in one hand and his staff in the other. The balrog was coming right for them. Sensing his foes was there. On the field waiting for him.

Finnola paced like a caged beast. She wanted to kill and destroy everything. Her rage was growing to proportions she had never encountered. The elves were scared of her and only Jeven and Tauriel dared get close to her. They trying to get her to calm even just a bit and they were failing. Caranthir finally called on her. He seemed happy to see her so ready.

"Inglor is looking for you. You will ride with the House of the Golden Flower and you will kill everything in your path. Those are your orders." Caranthir said with a grin. Finnola nodded to him then looked to her friends . She was thrilled as she turned and ran off towards the fair haired elves.

"Jeven you are needed at the front their are more bugs coming and you seem to deal with them well Tauriel you are needed with the archers." Caranthir gave them marching orders and they hurried off. He then turned to look across the camp towards the captive. This orc that gave them extremely good advice. He sat in his chains with his guards around him and ate as if this were the average Wednesday morning.

The last of the flaming whip hit the ground and when it was snapped back it made the ground shake and begin to crack. Glorfindel was the fastest. He was able to distract the balrog often than not. Charging him in fully attack and when the Balrog defended Orome had painful arrows for his flesh and Gandalf made to attack from low .

The Balrog screeches in agony from all the blows and when he goes to attack the other Glorfindel finds his openings. Anglachel leaving behind large open gashes that sizzling blood spills from. They all took blows. Glorfindel from the whip across his chest. Though his armor saves him he is bruised under it and may even have broken ribs. Orome was actually struck with the back of a fist that was meant for Gandalf. The force of it sent him flying then falling out of sight. Gandalf was kicked in much the same fashion only he hit a tree and fell lifeless to the ground.

Orome appeared from nowhere. His sword drawn and now he went toe to toe with one he used to call brother. Tears fell from his eyes with each stroke of his weapon. The Blarog beginning to slow. Soon Gandalf was back in the fight. Glamdring adding to the damage as they took turns . Finally Glorfindel pulled himself up. The sword he held taunted him. Called him names and even insulted his mother until he rose and told it to shut up. The pain suddenly gone he charged in. Screaming as he raised the sword for a killing blow.

Gandalf extended his staff and Glorfindel's feet touched it and he was propelled through the air. Coming face to face with the beast and thrusting Anglachel deep into the Balrogs eye. His arms sinking into the gooey ooze that spilled forth. The sword seeking the flesh of the brain. Then as the Balrog stumbled back Glorfindel began to fall. The sword pulling free of the gore it had made and with as much grace as he could muster he fell to the ground and rolled to a stop on his feet. The breath leaving the Balrog as he hit the ground.

Fire began to burn everything. The grasses still dry and the trees evergreen, their sap burned easily. Soon that battlefield was cleared as it burned and the fallen bodies upon it sizzled and smoked. Elf, Orc or other creature the fire did not care. It consumed all.

Finnola was berserk on the field. There were so many to destroy. She screamed for the elves to clear as she spun the dragonsfang over her head. the wind being captured and pulling all the smoke into the swirling death she was about to deal. Lightening crashed and thunder boomed around them. She was making her own weather now and all under it would perish. Elves scattered and sought refuge.

Within the tornado she screamed in her rage as she attacked the trolls in the spinning force around her. Her steps moving the tornado down the line and pulling troll orc and animal into its embrace. It was not her stamina that finally broke her onslaught. She was full of energy and had never been so ready to fight. It was a pang deep within her soul. A pulse of pain and a sickening feeling that washed over her.

She lowered her arms and stopped the spear. All around her began to drop. Nothing left but meat and a rain of black blood. She stood still in the sea of carnage around her, taking the moment to feel everything and to process what she was was injured. It was severe. She looked to his kin as they came from their hiding places and engaged in fighting anything that still moved.

She turned and began to walk from the battlefield. Being drawn back towards the camp. Anything that ran up on her with cruel intent was met with a swing of her sword or the tip of her spear. She was going to him no matter what came towards her.

They had begun to travel fairly early. Juniper rode with Minol, her cloak around her and his wings shielding her from the wind. She had a strange sense of forboding all morning. As if something was amiss. Then when they came to a rise in the land and looked back they could see the smoke. It was a large cloud of it and the wind began to carry the smell of burning flesh upon it.

Curufin rode up beside Minol followed by Celegorm. The others all turned to look . "The battle has been going on for some time it seems. " Curufin said softly.

"I am sure they got word. Something tells me it was harder than they wanted though. "Juniper spoke with her hand over her heart. "I fear the losses were more than imagined yet it turned out better than would have been thought. It is a point of view."

The elves looked at her and her worried face. She had left a good chunk of her family back there.

Drannor searched the ashes of the field. It had been a defeat but not as crushing as it could have been. However he needed to find someone. He knew they were on this field when they fell. He could hear the sounds of the elven camp in the distance. How they were tending to their people. How the wounded cried in pain.

It took him sometime but he found the body of Grish. Half charred and mangled. He sighed with glee and removed the head and placed it in a bag. He would bring this to his Master and watch him fume.