The fighting began to take on a new level of intensity. Morgoth was throwing everything he seemed to have at them. They were fighting a never ending line of Orcs and Human troops. The large armored bugs, Jeven had trained them to fight, swarmed the battle field at intervals. Then more Balrogs came and the Gods were challenged.
Thranduil sat on the back of Loratha, the Meara having offered to carry him into this war. Thranduil would have been foolish to deny the Meara. He was upon a rise in the land and was soon joined by Thingol. Together they looked out over the battlefield and the Ainur that did battle for the sake of Eru's children.
"I have heard stories all of my life about the war for the sake of the Elves. You just can not imagine the enormity of such a war. A war that changed the face of the Arda. I thought, foolishly, that the war of the ring would be the last great war, yet now I am mounted on a Meara, next to my long dead King and watching Gods do battle with evil, for our sake. It is an honor to fight alongside you, Lord Thingol," Thranduil spoke solemnly.
Thingol nodded in understanding of Thranduil. They watched as the Ainur pushed the Balrogs back, but now a surge of Orcs was breaking their lines. "Time to go, young King," Thingol said with a growl and they turned their mounts and rode from the hill.
From his Fortress the Dark Lord watched them battle. A large Palantir sat before him. He relaxed in his stone chair with the fire blazing before him. He wore a smirk upon his lips and his gaze narrowed. "It is time to shake things up a bit more."
He shifted his gaze to a dark-clad figure that stood near by. It nodded and slithered off to give his orders.
Thranduil was in the thick of it. They were fighting to push the Orcs back once more. His sword was never dry that day and he became a machine of death. Flowing into a trance-like state, where he was hyper aware of everything around him. Nothing had the chance of touching him, when he was like this. There was a strange sound breaking through his trance. A whistling sound that got louder then faded. Within a few seconds of the sounds departure there was a very loud explosion behind him.
This caused confusion at first, but soon enough he heard it again and looked up to see the large metal ball and its trail of black thick smoke, flying overhead, then falling and explode. Such a weapon killed, yes, but it did far more damage from the shrapnel that maimed. He looked for Finnola and Glorfindel and when he saw the eyes of Glorfindel he knew, they were already on it.
"Narl! Get your brothers!" Glorfindel called out to the First Orc, who nodded and swung a large mace that swept away several of the Human enemies around him.
"Hock! Get the twins!" He yelled to Hock who was calling the twins Krugge and Grugge.
Soon the four First Orc along with Glorfindel and Finnola were fighting their way to the back of the line to get their mounts. Several more explosions happened and they saw the full destruction of these weapons. There was a crater in the ground and then out from it in a circle lay the dead for several feet, then the maimed, screaming.
This angered all of them. Once they got to their horses, they headed out with one goal. Destroy the artillery.
Juniper sat up slowly. Her small hand pressed to her head and she let out a small groan. There was light coming from the window telling her it was day. Yet she had no idea what time of day and she couldn't even tell by looking outside. There was always a cloud cover here during the day.
The rattle of the chain when she moved told her, that Drannor had not been there yet. She looked to her left where Minogos lay asleep. With a small sigh she lay back and turned so she could snuggle up against Minogos' back. Her arm slipped around him and she let her eyes close. She took what comfort she could from his presence, knowing he would never betray her. He was there with her until the end. Her thoughts drifted to Thranduil. She had tried to not think about him too much. To do so was quite painful, but now? Now he was filling her thoughts again. He was very close and despite her trying to hide from him, she felt him and he could feel her again. She wanted to spare him all of this, but she was failing. Her soul was screaming for him.
They rode at full gallop. Orcs, Humans, Goblins, it did not matter, when they attacked them, they fell. They met serious resistance quite a distance from the machines of war. Finnola leapt from her horse with the Dragonsfang in her hand. "KEEP GOING!" She screamed as Glorfindel passed her.
She was surrounded by Orcs and Trolls. Inside she was giddy. Simply thrilled to have these numbers to battle. A rage built in her that made her shake. Her eyes were crazy with it. There was no need to hold back. There was no need to be mindful of her allies that might be near. There were none. It was just her and the enemy.
She was seeing red by the time they began to fight. Dancing with her spear and killing as many as she could without a wasted movement. The more she slipped into her rage, the more wind began to collect around her. Black blood spurted into the air and rained down on her. The blade of the spear sliced through the neck of an Orc, then across the middle of another, his guts spilling out.
It was so red. Dark, deep red and getting darker and darker. She dodged a blow from the massive mace, a Troll swung at her. She didn't even look. She knew it was coming. The end of the mace struck the ground and shattered it. The cracks were deep and dangerous formed on the earth, so Orcs began to trip over them. Finnola seemed to float around them and over them as her bloodbath continues.
Glorfindel rode alongside Narl and Hock. The twins behind them. Soon the twins broke off to take on the next round of heavily armored Orcs and Trolls. They were unique in the fact they worked best as a unit. One twin knowing what the other would do, constantly made them very good at killing.
Glorfindel, along with Narl and Hock, fought his way closer and closer to the war machines. Finally they abandoned the horses. They took off running for safety. Glorfindel began to tap into a power he held deep within his fea, one, gifted to him by the Valar. One he had not felt since he took on the wraiths near Imladris.
He began to show all that could see, why he was the Lord of his House. His sword was coated in the black blood. It sprayed around him and covered his golden hair. He still had not pulled Anglachel from its sheathe. The Black Sword screamed at him, "use me, come on pretty Elf. This is, what I was made for. You´re being stupid, Glorfindel. You idiot. Your naneth must have fallen off the stupid cliff and hit her head on every rock on the way down. Let me show you the meaning of death. USE ME!"
Glorfindel grit his teeth as he glanced around himself. A pile of dead Orcs before him and more coming. He slang the blood from his sword and slid it back in its sheathe, then with a low growl he wrapped his hand around Anglachel's hilt and drew the Black Sword. He was imbued then with even more power. He felt invincible in those moments and ran right into the charging line.
Narl was not far from Glorfindel. Today he carried two mighty axes and he cleaved his way through many of his heathen kin. The distressed voice of Hock made him turn and look. Hock could hold his own against a Troll. Hock could kill a Troll and then kill another. Hock could not kill two Trolls at once.
Narl made meat of those attacking him and then he turned towards his brother. Running towards him as the second Troll began to attack. Hock held off the Troll´s attacks, but he could not defend against the second one, lifting its spiked club. Hock looked up in wide eyed horror and then closed his eyes tightly and he braced for the blow.
He heard a confused cry of pain. His eyes opened. The second Troll swayed where he stood, his club falling from his hands. Sticking from his skull was Narl´s axe. Hock grinned and kicked the Troll´s knee back, bringing him off balance and making him cry in pain, before he sliced through the Troll´s belly with his sword.
Narl ran up the Troll´s body and pulled his axe from his skull. Then he and Hock charged in for some more.
Thranduil was fighting his way through to give aid to the wrecking crew. This team of heavy hitters that had grown quite important to him. He rode alongside the Men of Rohan and First Orcs alike. Any mounted fighter he could find, he took with him. Eomer charged in at his side and fought viciously. This impressed the Elven King. His views had shifted drastically in these few past years. Men were not as weak as he once believed. Not all Orcs were bad and Dwarves could be good company.
Ahead he could see the whirlwind that Finnola had created. It was growing and he could feel the whipping of the wind as she pulled it to her. The swirl grew darker and darker and then it stopped. From the cloud that now fell, he saw a lone figure emerge. It was Finnola with her spear resting across her massive shoulders.
She started to run as her horse came into view and with grace none her size should have, she pulled herself up on the back of her running horse, then charged off towards the mayhem ahead. A few more explosives whistled overhead as they flew towards the main battle and the ground shook when they hit.
The mass of Calvary that now rode across the field began to overwhelm the enemy, effectively making the wrecking crews battle to destroy the machines of war easier. The twins were mounted and riding up fast. Finnola hot on their heels. Glorfindel had reached the first of the trebuchets. They were guarded pretty heavily and Glorfindel was having to give it his all. The sword laughing hysterically as it made easy work of any, that came before it. He cut the ropes and the basket fell forwards with its mast, the heavy counter weight came crashing down and crushing all below it.
Narl and Hock passed him as they began attacking catapults and killing those manning them. They had two down as Glorfindel made his way to the next trebuchet. Running swiftly, he was light on his feet and able to sidestep many attacks. His arms seemed to be guided by the sword. It drank deeply of the blood that covered it.
Finnola and the twins just dove in, working together they made fairly quick work of those that were still alive in the line of destruction that had been create by the others. Not being as distracted and mostly in the clear, Finnola stopped and looked towards the mountain. There she could see a dark line moving towards them. It was reinforcements. Her heart began to sink and she looked to the twins. "There is more coming we have to hurry." They rode towards the others with haste.
Even though the fighting was getting a bit easier the Black Sword was going berserk, "more! More! More are coming. Yes, this makes me so happy!" Glorfindel growled, turned and then he saw the line in the distance. "More are coming!" He yelled.
Narl stood before a line of heavy, black wagons. Inside they were filled with the metal, explosive balls. He, too, looked to those coming, then to the line of wagons. He began to form a plan.
The fighting got harder then as the first of these reinforcements arrived. Narl moved back and began to fight alongside Hock. "Listen to me, brother," he began. "Get everyone else clear. Far, far from here." Hock looked to him and shook his head. "If I do not do this. We will be overrun. I want a future for you. I want a future for our people. You must understand. The others will not. Now go." He pushed Hock. "Get everyone to ..." Hock threw his arms around Narl and hugged him. "You will be remembered, my brother."
He had tears in his eyes when he released Narl and turned to fight back the Orcs that had arrived. Narl looked at the line getting closer. He gave one more look towards Hock, who was getting the twins to turn around. He told Glorfindel what Narl planned. The Elf looked to Narl with horror in his eyes. Narl smiled and waved to him.
Finnola rode up and stopped as she saw them making a retreat. "Where is Narl?" Hock would not look her in the eyes and the twins rode on away from it all. "Where is Narl?" She slid off the back of her horse and glared at Glorfindel. "Narl will destroy these exploding weapons and the reinforcements that are coming." She looked confused at him, then, as she understood, she growled and went to get back on her horse. "Like hell he will." Glorfindel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him.
"No, Finnola. It's too late. We must get clear." She began to fight him and Hock had to help him, holding the powerful Giantess back.
"NARL!" She screamed and Glorfindel along with Hock struggled to hold her. "Finnola!" Glorfindel raised his voice to her and it made her shake and stop her struggles. He held her face in his grip tightly and for the first time in her life she felt scared. "We must flee." He radiated a power that was great and she felt small compared to it. She began to sob and nodded. Soon enough they were mounted up and Glorfindel lead Finnola's horse and Finnola away.
Narl crouched down on top of one of the middle wagons. The hatched pulled open on the roof he could see the deadly spheres inside. In his hand was an oil-filled lantern pilfered from the wagon next to this one. He watched as the main line began its approach. "To the future!" He shouted with a smile and dropped the lantern into the wagon. It broke and the oil covered the center line of bombs. The flames erupted.
Thranduil and the others finally met up with Glorfindel. They were riding fast in retreat. Then there was a blinding light in the distance. A hard, hot wind knocked Thranduil from the back of the Meara. There was chaos in the first moments after. His ears rang and he could not hear anything else. He was looking up at the grey sky and there was a rain of pieces of wood, soil and rock that pelted him. He rolled over and covered his head with his arms until it stopped.
He rested on his knees in deep confusion and watched as Orcs, Trolls and Goblins ran past him, Elves and Men giving chase. He looked around and saw Glorfindel near by. He was holding Finnola, who was sobbing. He looked more and saw Hock pushing himself up to his hands and knees. Then Eomer alongside several of his own troops lifted up his head.
The ringing in his hears faded a bit and he got to his feet and looked out. There was a large fire. Long and wide and it blazed nearly white hot in places. Then he could hear the screams and cries of those that burned in that fire and he smelled the putrid stench of burning flesh on the air. Closer by he heard Finnola's cries. He turned towards her and Glorfindel, who was desperately trying to comfort her.
"What has happened?" Thranduil asked and Glorfindel looked up to him with wet, tear-filled eyes. "Narl is dead. He caused that explosion." He spoke lowly and then lowered his gaze.
Thranduil felt as if the ground had opened up under him and he lowered to his knees. A loud wailing scream past his lips.
Juniper shot up quickly and threw herself back. She hit the wall hard. Minogos woke up and turned to see Juniper curled up with her back to the wall. She growled and screamed through her teeth and shook with sobs.
"Juniper," he was quick to move beside her. He was very careful with how and where he touched her. He was unsure if she had been hurt. "What happened?" He asked and lifted her into his arms, then he held her to his chest. "Was it a vision?"
He felt her shaking and quickly pulled blankets over them as he sat back. He tried to give her as much comfort as he could, but she still cried and shook against him. "I don't know. I was asleep and then I felt deep and sudden heartbreak." Her voice was shaky and cracked, but she told him.
"Do you know what had happened?" He moved her so her head was lifted and he cradled it in his hand and he sought her eyes.
"No. I just know it was very bad." Tears poured down her cheeks. "You need to hide yourself again, Juniper. You will spare yourselves a lot during this." He eyed her, but spoke in a gentle way.
"I can't." She shook with another sob. "He is too close. I can't stop it and I don't want to. I need him."
The look in his eyes softened and he brought her back to his chest. She was a bit shocked and who could blame her. The emotions she was feeling were not her own and she could only guess at why he was so upset. Not knowing made it worse.
Drannor entered the room with a smug expression, but then he saw and heard what was going on. His smirk faded and he felt what she did for a moment, then managed to close himself off. His golden gaze met Minogos'.
"She feels him. He is so close and their bond so strong, she can not stop it. Something had happened and she feels it."
Servants came in quietly and cleared away the remains of last nights feast and brought fresh food. Drannor took a seat in one of his highbacked chairs and simply remained quiet. It took a while, but eventually the shock of all those emotions, hitting her at once, eased and her tears stopped. The blanket slipped from her back and Drannor saw the large, dark bruise forming on her flesh and sighed. He rose and moved closer, Minogos watching him.
"She is injured. Perhaps you were a bit rough?" He knelt down behind her and when he touched her back she flinched away. "Juniper, there is no need for you to experience this discomfort right now. I can help you. Let me help you."
She glanced up to Minogos, who nodded to her. Her head lay against his shoulder, her body resting against his. Drannor reached once more and lay his hand against the bruise. "It wasn't Minogos' fault. I think, I hit the wall on my own."
His fingers slid under one of her warm, soft wings, the bruise spreading there. "You need to be as rested, as unmarred, as possible, Juniper. You will need every bit of your strength."
She listened to Drannor, speaking to her in gentle tones. His touch took away the pain. "You have healing hands. The hands of a King should always be healing hands. Yet your hands have done so much harm."
Drannor just laughed. "Maybe I am a lost King." His hands pulled away and the bruise that had just begun looked like it was in its last days, already turning yellow and fading. "The truth is, Juniper, even your beloved Elf King has done horrible things in the past that you have no idea about. Every King has a past. No matter how good of a ruler they are. Things are not so simple, little Fae. On the edges of both, light and darkness, are all shades of grey. While you reside in the brightness of light I and your King live in grey. Now, please, forgive me comparing myself to him. I know, I could never hold a candle to such a great King, but these are some facts you will need to understand, Juniper. You will find yourself on the edges in the grey eventually and then what will you do?"
He rose up and stepped away. His shoulders sank a bit and he spoke with his back to them. "You are to remain chained today. This is not my decree, but his." With that and before he could hear any protest he left the room.
Thranduil sat slumped on his throne. His helm dangled from his fingertips and fell to the ground. He was covered in Orc blood mixed with the red blood of Men. He had bore witness to a great act of heroism that day. An act that took the life of the hero, but had dealt a might blow to the enemy, effectivly ending the battle that day completely.
Narl and the others had changed his point of view. They had given him hope that all races could live together, even the Orcs. Narl had grown close to Juniper. He had saved her. He was like a brother to Glorfindel and Finnola. Narl had become his friend and he mourned for his friend as he has mourned for so many during this war, but Narl was special.
The mood in the camp was not joyous. While they had been victorious, the way it happened was no reason to celebrate. Plus they had seen just how destructive the Dark Lord´s new weapons could be. There was a sense of somber remembrance and a renewed vigor to destroy the Dark Lord completely.
Elrond was more than busy in the healing tents. He was joined by the Ainur that were present and the returned Kings. All that could assist were there. Thranduil soon made his way into the healing tent and joined in the efforts. These were new types of injuries. Far worse that arrow wounds or blade slashes.
More often than not if a limb was injured by these weapons the only course of action was to remove the limb. Maiming many and it did not discriminate. They treated all the races present.
Elrond watched as many staggered out of the tent, having used too much of their magic too soon. He had to admit he was feeling drained as well. These new weapons were truly more horrible than anything he had encountered over his long life. This had to end and soon.
In the east something was stirring. The Orc troops that were out there began to run back towards the mountain. Then were cut down as quickly as possible. Even the Trolls tried to escape, but they were, too, cut down. Morgoth's bugs lay slaughtered in the forest and his spies gave up their secrets before they died. Pale eyes with bright, thick, red rings around the pupils searched every crevice and every cave. Not one single evil thing would be left moving along their path.
They were free to do what they had trained to do for ages. They crawled quicker through the shadows than the Orcs and Goblins. To be set upon by one perhaps you could survive, to be set upon by more than one there was no chance of survival. They left behind the disemboweled and maimed corpses of their prey. A clear message sent to any that may come this way. Death will come to the Orcs.
Juniper spent the day in Minogos' embrace. Little was said between them. There was so little left to be said. Tonight would be the night of the full moon and she would face Melkor. Minogos did all he could for her, but in the end felt useless. She clung to him like a frightened child and there was nothing he could do to ease her fears.
Before sundown, servants entered and readied the bath. The air grew thick with heavily perfumed oils and Juniper refused to let go of Minogos. He growled at her servants and barked at them to leave. Drannor came and told them to go and quieted the growing ruckus.
"Juniper, you must bathe. For this to go as planned you must comply," Drannor spoke gently, but looked into Minogos' eyes as he did. "There is nothing in the water, but his favorite scents and I know that might make you feel disgusted, but you must enter his chambers fully prepared."
Minogos rose then and carried her to the bath. Their chains rattled together. He climbed into the bath while holding her and lowered down into the water. He leaned back with her laying against him and lightly began to trickle water down her spine with the wash cloth. "Now I will smell like it too, Juniper. We will share this indignity." He smiled at her and kissed the top of her head.
"She will be ready, Drannor. I will see to it."
Drannor nodded. "I will return for her when the moon has risen to almost the highest point. Don't let her suffer, but don't go too far with it," he warned and looked at her unmoving form and sighed before leaving.
Once Drannor had left he pushed her back to sit up and held her slight shoulders. Her head hung down and he used one hand to brush her hair from her face. She looked rather lost and depressed. He cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a deep kiss. Soon she began to squirm against him and struggled to get away. Finally he released her and she fell back in the tub against his legs.
"Finally there is some life in you again," he said sharply.
"That wasn't funny." She snapped back.
"No, it wasn't and neither is watching you slip off into the deep end."
"I am not in the deep end," she said softly. "Everything has been playing out in my mind. Every scenario for tonight." That revelation made Minogos sit up and look at her with a curious gaze. "Is that so?" She nodded. "I think I have finally decided what I will do."
He was bathing her as she spoke. He lifted her hair and washed around her shoulders. "What is that?"
"I will give him what he wants."
Minogos lowered the wash cloth, looked her deep in the eye and he saw the spark of determination in them. She was not as helpless as she appeared.
There were stirrings beyond the scorched battlefield. Movements were seen and now this movement was growing. Thranduil was called from the healing tents along with the other Kings and Commanders.
"He has finally emptied out his barracks. The force that will bear down on us will be unlike anything we have gone against. Fang and claw will come for us ...," Gandalf trailed off and looked to Ryu who sat with her head down. She had seen the terror coming in its entirety through the eyes of her wraiths.
Elladan hung his head and sighed. "Well, this is it. If the Queen will make her move, it must be tonight."
A weary looking Elrond looked to Thranduil. "Do you know anything?" He asked.
"I only feel a sense of calm coming from her. It´s like she is resigned to her fate and is ready. That is all I can say." He exhaled slowly and looked to all of them. "If she is ready, then we must support her. We must give them one hell of a fight."
Elessar nodded and rose up. "He had tried to beat us down many times and each time we rose again. He had dealt us blow after blow and I we fight back harder. Tonight will be no different. Tonight we will be rid of Morgoth once and for all."
Thingol grinned from the back of the room at this mortal King. He saw now the measure of the man and was impressed.
All that could fight gathered on an invisible line. Foot soldiers and Calvary. Archers and pike men. Gods, Kings and commoners, side by side.
Beleg scouted ahead. Turin, Celegorm and Curufin crouched down among the boulders at the base of the mountain. Beleg climbed high, looking for the small entrance they were told to find. Soon her was waving them to follow.
The Elves and Turin climbed in silence. It was strange that they did not meet any resistance here. Finally they reached the ledge to find Beleg standing just inside the cave. He was still and even when they spoke to him he did not move.
"Good, now you're all here." The voice was somewhat sultry and deep as he came from the darkness. It was golden eyes reflected in the rising moon light that they saw first. Then the beautiful face of Drannor stepped from the shadows. His arm stretched out, in his hand a folded bit of parchment. "Follow this map. It will take you where you need to go. I am sure you will meet Minogos along the way."
"What of Minol?" Celegorm asked quickly before those golden eyes could slip away. That gaze lifted to meet Celegorm´s. "Minol was killed a few days ago." Celegorm felt the air leave his lungs as he looked down.
"What of Elthian and Vorondil?" Curufin now asked. "I do not know Vorondil, but Elthian was killed days before Minol." They all looked to each other and then fought back their tears and let it turn to anger.
"Follow the map and do not tarry long." Drannor warned, then disappeared into the darkness.
Drannor came to find she was doing quite well despite the moon. Minogos had her bathed and dressed in the robes that had been brought. Her hair was combed and braided up with tendrils that framed her face. He dropped a bag on the cushions, then went and unlocked their chains.
"Your suit is in there along with her armor. In the closet by the door you will find your weapons." He handed him a a folded piece of parchment and sighed. "You need to follow the map and make sure the way is clear. You will meet Turin and his group along the way."
Juniper looked up suddenly, "they are here?" Drannor nodded. Juniper began to smile very widely and there was a renewed sense of hope within her.
"Wait thirty minutes, then begin and good luck, my brother," Drannor said softly and took Junipers hand. As they were leaving the room, Minogos looked to them and called out, "take care of her and of yourself, Drannor." Drannor smiled and bowed his head.
They stood before the red door. His hand on her shoulder squeezed gently, then he pulled the door open and they stepped inside. The doom of the ceiled was opened up. By what magic or machine she did not know, but it was opened up and she could see the stars and the moon making its way overhead.
"The moment of my victory draws ever so close. You need not fret, my dear. You will be well cared for as the Queen of my Kingdom." Drannor pushed her slightly, placed his hands on her shoulders and lead her through the room to where the stone throne sat. The fire in the fireplace crackled and he was looking into the Palantir.
He turned his head and looked on her. In her eyes he saw fear. "Come here, my pet. There are those, I am sure, you wish to see standing there before the mountain." She stepped away from Drannor and gingerly walked closer to Melkor and his Palantir. He took her small hand into his. It was small and warm and he cupped it between his hands for a few moments. She was shocked at how cold he felt and her fingers were going numb.
He lay her hand on the Palantir and her eyes went wide. Before her, mounted on Elthian's Meara was Thranduil. Glorious and proud, his hair was blowing in the wind. Beside him were Thingol and Glorfindel. Finnola was walking up to stand beside her husband. Elrond was there with his sons. Legolas stood atop a wagon looking out at the battle. His archers lined up and ready. Ryu was atop a wagon as well, a bow in her hands, an arrow nocked. Celeborn was in the healing tents trying to keep up with the patients. 'Elrond must have been spent,' she thought. Then walking up through the wagons were the Ainur. Orome, Tulkas and Eönwë. The only one she did not see was Narl. Then she understood Thranduil's despair.
"You will do as I say and you will give yourself to me freely," Melkor whispered in her ear almost sweetly.
Pulling her hand away from the Palantir, she looked into his red ringed eyes. He grinned at her, pulled away and stood at his full height, Lording over her. "Come on, my dear. I will show you." He reached for her hand and she politely placed it in his grasp. He led her towards the dark hallway and then down it. At the end was a circular room and on the pedestal in the center lay a beautiful Elf made of stone.
She gasped, she had seen him before, in a vision. "Maglor," she said softly. "Indeed, my dear. Poor Maglor here has done something quite foolish. All you need to do is, remove the stone from his gasp and place it on the end of that staff." He motioned to the staff and she gasped.
"That is a Wizard´s staff. How did ..."
He cut her off with a wave of his hand and a smiled. "That Wizard was a blue one. They were a bit wild one could say. He had radical points of view and was quite eager to join me. He however no longer needs his staff."
She just stared at him, her mind running through the possibilities that could have happened in this case. She tried to stop it, but she blurted out, "you changed him."
Melkor threw his head back and laughed, "I didn't change him. He only became what he always was. Now take the stone and put it on the end of the staff."
She looked to Maglor and stepped up on the foot of the pedestal. She caressed the hardness of his cheek and leaned in to press a chaste kiss upon his lips. "Your job is done. You don't need this anymore." She said to him softly, then moved down to his mangled hands and carefully she pulled the Silmaril free. As she stepped down a tear fell from the corner of one of Maglor's eyes.
She looked to Melkor with the Silmaril in her small hand. She, untouched by it, he just smiled and motioned to the staff. She stepped up to it and lifted her arms. There in the cradle on the end she placed the Silmaril. Melkor laughed with glee and scooped her up into his arms. He embraced her and spun around with her before carrying her back to the heat of the fireplace and the Palantir.
He placed her down before the Palantir, forced her hand back upon it and now she was watching the battle. She tried to pull away, but Melkor was powerful and he forced her to watch the carnage. "I will call it all off. I will withdraw my troops and no more else need to die. All you have to do is give yourself to me freely. Bond with me. Become my Queen and send them home."
Drannor watched with morbid curiosity as this played out before him, his arms crossed over his chest and he leaned against the wall. A cool grin curled on his lips as she looked down and closed her eyes.
"Well, what is your answer?"
She remained with her face downcast and her eyes closed. Then slowly they opened and she stared into the Palantir for another few moments. "I give myself freely to you," she said with little emotion. As Melkor once again took her into his arms, she was turned to face Drannor for just a moment and he saw a smug grin on her lips. His eyes widened and now he shifted his stance.
Melkor lay her over the thick back of the stone chair. The robes opened, falling away from her body. She tried to look away from him, but he grabbed her face and forced her to look. "You will not pull your gaze from mine. If you do, I swear to you, all of them will be dead before the moon begins to set." She let out a whimper and nodded. Her lavender gaze locked in on his.
A union of the bodies was all that was truly needed for a bond to happen. That did not mean he had to violate her right then, and to be frank, he did not want to. He was more interested in the golden eyed whore watching. Now, he would eventually take her. She would give him children after all. Tonight was not that night.
He used only his fingers. Drannor arched a brow, once he realized, how his master meant to go about this. He was skilled to say the least. Drannor knew, what he could do with his hands and soon Juniper was moaning pitifully, her legs shaking.
"There you are, my dear," he said softly. "Come to me." Drannor´s body tensed up and he made ready for whatever happened.
He could see her soul. It was sheer beauty to look on. Its brightness and the shifting in color, he wanted it. She faded into the background and for a moment it was only her soul and his fea and then... He was thrown back on the floor, his hands on his head and he screamed in agony. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?"
Juniper gasped, her legs kicking in the air as if she didn't know where she was. Drannor leapt to catch her before she could fall. She looked at him with wild eyes and utter bewilderment. Melkor screeched and writhed on the floor.