Forochel. March 29, SA 542

MAIRON smiled as the two Elves entered the ice chamber. The thick fog swirled all around like the puff of steam when hot metal meets cold water, but thicker and murkier.

Mairon moved the air about the chamber so they could see just a glimpse, a flash of the long dark hair, a flutter of the torn green tunic.

They came, the older one limping and the younger one looking around with eyes full of fear. In their hands, one held an Orc sword and the other a dagger, both stained with fresh black blood.

"You see a way out? Is there one?"

"We in here, aren't we? If there's a way in, then there's a way out. Wait, what is that?"

They stopped a few feet from Mairon and squinted, trying to see through the fog.

Mairon hung his head, allowing the long strands of hair to cover his face. He had diminished his form. He had four hundred years to make the plan, and the change was rifling, only in the color of the hair and in stature- smaller bones, finer lines, shorter height. But the children of Eru had a mind of their own and had an excessive imagination. And even for the Elves who see further and deeper than the Secondborns, they saw first with their eyes. A slight suggestion was enough for the assumptions to take over and fill whatever details they needed to see.

Even in this limited state, he could communicate with his Orcs and order them about. But he could not move and could not use his hands. Besides that, the two swords that held him here did not prevent him in any other way. The pain, however, was excruciating. It radiated through his arms to the rest of his body. But he had been through worse under his master. It was Melkor who first taught him pain and how to wield it.

"It's an elleth." The younger one hurried over to Mairon's side. "What have those monsters done to you?"

Mairon looked up at the Elf with moist eyes. There was no need to waste words.

Had they been the Elves of Valinor, they might have sensed his power which he could not hide in his own body, but these Elves were not of Aman. They were not raised in the hallowed light of Yavanna's trees. Even the Noldor who grew under them had lost much of their light and power over the years spent in Middle-earth.

Mairon looked toward the swords. Their eyes followed him.

"It's a sword. Two swords. Are they made of light?" The younger one touched the hilt made of mithril and white wood. "I have never seen a sword like this. Are they Dwarven?" The younger turned to the older Elf.

"Not Dwarven. Perhaps Noldor. They were crafters of surpassing talent."

"It hurts," Mairon whispered.

"Don't worry, lass. We will help you and keep you safe." The young one tried to pull out the sword in front of him, but it did not budge.

The older Elf tried the sword on his side, but he had no better luck. "They are embedded in the stone. I don't know if we can take them out."

"Perhaps try both at the same time?" Mairon suggested.

Each took the hilt, then looking at each other, they strained against them. Unlike before, the swords slid out with ease.

"Ah, perfect." Mairon massaged the upper arms where the sword penetrated. As soon as the blades slid out, the pain and the constant hum that had almost driven him mad calmed. Feeling more like himself, Mairon let out a sigh of relief. Once he opened the door to the chamber, he could communicate with his Orcs, but he had been unable to leave.

Mairon reached out and the two golden collars the Orcs had salvaged from the outer cave and placed just inside the door flew through the air and landed on his outstretched hands.

"Let me give you gifts for your noble deed," Mairon said as he clasped the golden collar around each of the Elves.

"Gift is unnecessary," the older Elf said. "We should look to your wound, child." As he said so, he tried to remove the collar, but that was not up to him now.

"Kneel." It was spoken softly but potent, nevertheless. The two Elves gasped as their knees bent and hit the ice floor with a thud.

Mairon rotated his head as the skin of his upper arms mended as he flooded his body with his power and filled the ice chamber with the song of power. The air crackled and sizzled with the invisible aura that was an extension of himself. He shook off the frail form he wore and let his chosen shape take over.

Long strands of hair, red as blood and golden as flames of a forge, spread out as if they had a life of their own, glinting like the sparks of fire among the pale gray of the fog.

Mairon stretched his tall, lithe frame as the gray mists swirled all around. When he was back to himself, he turned to face two pairs of rounded eyes filled with shock and horror.

"What what…" the older Elf's voice shook. "What are you?"

"Silence!"

The Elf's mouth clamped shut and the younger ones' mouth thinned into a line.

Mairon spread his hands and the double blades flew up into his hands. But the moment he touched the hilt, he felt the same sizzling pain that had held him. Mairon grimaced as the blades fell onto the ice floor.

"Pick them up." The two Elves picked up the double swords, then withdrew as Mairon waved them away. The swirling mists swallowed them.

"Finally." Mairon flexed his arms. The wounds on the arms were minor. Only a bit of time would mend them before his full strength returned, more than enough time before the arrival of the Silmacils.

His Orcs and the Men had been busy building the traps. The only thing left was for him to cast the spell on the rest of the gold collars. Forty at the most. But he knew Gilmagor. He would not risk having all of them in one place. That cunning old Elf would keep some around the king. That may leave twenty? But whether twenty or forty, Mairon would be ready for them. He rubbed his hands together with glee.

He walked over to the pile of bones that was Uluch.

"What a waste."

Mairon was glad he had taken more of Uluch's blood before she betrayed him. But there was no more of that now. He would have to be careful about the amount of blood he uses. Had Thranduil answered his call, this would have been so much easier. But, that Sinda was stubborn and difficult to control. And the Silmacils would be harder than Thranduil. Remembering Beril, Mairon grimaced. The collar was not perfect. The Silmacils were the Noldorin warriors from Valinor. They were stronger in power than Thranduil and certainly had a stronger will than that puny Green Elf. But, he had found a way.

The Elves may have thought they could hold him here forever, but they had underestimated him. Mairon had cracked open the door to this chamber several decades ago, whispering instructions to his Orcs who tested his theories and enabled his plans. And he was ready for the Silmacils now. And once the great Silmacils bent their knees to him in obedience, who could stop him?

Mairon laughed out aloud.

"Show me," he commanded as he linked himself to the eyes of the crows and the Orcs.

Northeast of Hills of Evendim. March 30, SA 542

ELROND squinted, trying to see through the fog. Thick gray mists blanketed the entire forest below them, and he could see nothing except the occasional branches that poked through the cloud-like fog. He glanced at Thranduil, who stood next to him, his face stoic and unreadable. The Sinda splayed his fingers wide then clenched them.

The weather had been anything but cooperative. They were on the trail for three full days and the past two days rained, punctuated with strong winds. The temperature dipped and the rain and the wind had forced them to take shelter. Last night, the sky was clear and bright giving them hope, but this morning the world turned into a misty sea.

They had passed through the valley to the northern hills of Evendim. Because Thranduil insisted on staying on high ground, they climbed a story-high cliff to settle for the night on the rocks overlooking the spread of forest before them. Just below the cliff, at the entrance to the forest, they had found a remnant of where the soldiers from the fort had spent the night.

Eryn, who had the eyesight of a hawk, had found the marks Durion left and they tracked through the valley. The trail led northeast through a thick forest interspersed with rocky hills.

"It is still early in the morning, Thranduil. When the sun rises, the fog will disperse. Then we will be right on track. Mistress Eryn thinks they are less than a half-day ahead of us. Isn't that so, Mistress Eryn?" Elrond padded Thranduil's back, trying to reassure him.

"If the weather cooperates with us. If it rains or worse, we may never catch up to Durion," Eryn said with a sigh as she looked up at the dark gray sky.

Elrond glanced at Thranduil worriedly.

"How did you meet Durion?" Thranduil suddenly turned to Eryn.

"You'll have to ask him. He may not want me to say," Eryn chuckled.

"All right then. When did you meet him?"

"Thranduil." Elrond frowned in warning.

"I don't mind." Eryn smiled widely. "Durion say he just finished building house, so it must be about a decade ago."

"And you married when?"

"Thranduil, stop." It was not polite to ask about personal matters unless it was offered. Elrond knew Thranduil knew that well. But, irritated Thranduil was like a cranky child, a child about to stir trouble.

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask," Eryn said.

"Let's cook that mushrooms you found, Mistress Eryn." Elrond grabbed the pile of dried branches they had gathered the night before to use for fire. "Remember the tree mushrooms, Thranduil?" Elrond gave Eryn a smile. "He loves tree mushrooms." The Half-elven piled the branches together. "Come help me light them, won't you?" Elrond took out his firestones to strike them together, but Thranduil grabbed Elrond's hands.

"What?"

"Shhh." Thranduil tilted his head as if he was listening to something. "On the ground," Thranduil whispered as he squatted down low.

Leaving the branches, Elrond followed after Thranduil, pulling Eryn down with him.

"What are you…" Eryn frowned, but Elrond placed his finger in front of his lips.

Elrond trusted Thranduil's senses when they were in a forest. Just as his special senses were most acute with people, Thranduil was never wrong when it came to the whispers of the forest. The woman pursed her lips, but lay flat on the ground, taking out her dagger.

"Orcs?" Elrond whispered to Thranduil who lay flat next to Eryn.

Thranduil shook his head. The look of worry in Thranduil's eyes said it all.

Elrond cursed silently. How could they have caught up to them so fast? The last time they saw them, they were half a day away.

"Horses. I hear horses. It is probably your soldiers." Eryn raised her upper body and squinted into the swirling fog below. "We should let them know…" she moved to sit up, but Thranduil grabbed her arm.

"We are going to stay very quiet and not move or make any sounds. Is that clear?" Thranduil's voice was full of warning.

Elrond could feel Eryn stiffen as the air about her ignited.

"Please, Mistress Eryn. He knows what he is doing." Elrond met Eryn's eyes.

The Green Elf sucked in a quick breath before lowering to her previous position.

The forest in front of them was quiet. Not even a scurry sound could be heard except for the occasional cracking you normally hear in the woods.

If the forest wasn't so quiet, Elrond would have thought Thranduil had heard wrong, but a forest was never this quiet. The forest and the animals within it seemed to hold their breath.

They stayed down for a long while. A lifetime seemed to have passed. Elrond could feel Eryn fidget next to him. The Half-elven looked across the women to Thranduil. His hair, which had turned into a deeper rose, stirred as the winds swept by them. Among the tendrils of thinning fog, the reddish color stood out.

"Thranduil," Elrond hissed, pointing at his head. Eryn pulled Thranduil's gray cape over the Sinda's head. Thranduil fixed his hood over his head as he glared at Elrond. The Half-elven shrank into his position. He had forgotten about the hair and it seemed so did Thranduil. When Elrond didn't feel the glare from his friend, he sneaked a look. Thranduil frowned with an intense look of concentration when something whistled through the woods.

Two beams of light cut through the dense fog like blades, whizzing between the trees. They were two fist-size balls of light.

A loud caw rang out as birds, black as tar, flew up from the thickness of the fog into the sky.

Elrond looked up. There were about a dozen crows. Their cawing shook the silence and from the fog, arrows whistled through to follow after them. One after another, crows shrieked as they were pierced and fell out of the sky to be swallowed by the ocean of mists. But three of them escaped, flying far and away. He had not known there were so many crows about them.

Elrond turned back to the forest below. The fog had thinned and among the swirls of the gray mist, he saw two figures each on top of their horses. They raised their hands and the balls of lights that whizzed about the treetops returned to their hands. It was Baldor and Thoron.

Taking in a sharp breath, Elrond ducked down when the two Silmacils looked about them.

From somewhere north of them, a growl followed a screech and a loud grunt. The two Silmacil turned and moved away.

Three of them remained silent for a while longer until Thranduil sat up.

"I have to check something. That didn't sound like a normal bear growl." Thranduil threaded his bow before climbing down.

"Don't, Thranduil. What if they are still down there?"

"They are gone. But, the bears, they are still there."

"Wait. Don't kill the bears." Eryn got up, but Thranduil reached the floor and had moved into the forest. The fog had thinned, only a swirl of silken tendrils underfoot as the sun rose up shining through the thick clouds. "They are not normal bears." Eryn tried to tell Thranduil, but the Sinda disappeared among the canopy of trees. "Shouldn't we go with him?" Eryn turned to Elrond.

Elrond sat up. "Thranduil will return soon. We should wait for him here. But what did you mean they are not normal bears?"

"Don't know for sure. Just talk from the hunters. There are bears in the north that change skins."

"What do you mean 'change skins'?"

Eryn shrugged. "They change to look like the Secondborns."

"How is that possible?"

"Don't know." Eryn shrugged, sitting down next to Elrond. "I've only heard about them. But those two warriors, aren't they your people?"

Elrond looked away. He didn't know what to tell her. "We…ah, we aren't supposed to be here."

"Oh." A look of understanding dawned on her, but she frowned again. "Why would they stop you? Durion's friend, isn't he a soldier? I would think your people want him found."

"It's a long story."

Eryn's eyes were full of questions, but she did not ask them. She stuffed things back into her pack, ready to leave. "Your friend, is he born with that hair color? I have never seen a color like that."

Elrond felt his cheeks burn. "That was a mistake. He has very light hair, and I was trying to darken them."

Eryn chuckled. "I thought maybe he was related to someone I have met back in Ossiriand although his hair was much more like the burgundy leaves of autumn."

Elrond stiffened. He took in a quick breath to calm his booming heart. Taking a lungful of air, Elrond turned his back to Eryn and gathered the items about him. He wanted to ask about Maedhros. Elrond was certain that was who Eryn meant.

"I don't think he likes me," Eryn said.

"Don't mind him. He is like that with people he does not know. It takes time for him to warm up." Elrond forced himself to put Maedhros away. This was not the time nor a place to talk about his foster father.

"He doesn't trust me, does he?"

"Trust is something he does not give easily." Elrond stuffed the things into the pack. "Believe me, Mistress Eryn. Do not think it is you that is making him the way he is. He will come around." At least, with time, but Elrond did not say that.

"How about you? Are you suspicious of me, too?" When Eryn asked, Elrond turned to her. She drew her knees to her and rested her head over them. Her eyes were the gray of the river rocks.

"I know you do not have any nefarious intentions. That is good enough for me."

Eryn smiled widely.

"You are nice. I knew it immediately. But…" she looked down at the cliff. "He is not very likable. But Durion thinks the world of him. I want to try, for his sake, but I don't see much to like." Eryn smiled weakly. "I'm not usually like that."

Elrond did not know what to say. He could understand. He did not like Thranduil when he first met him. And he had not been the only one who thought so.

"He is difficult to like," Elrond admitted. "But what you see is not all that he is. Do you like chestnuts, Mistress Eryn?"

"Chestnuts?"

"Yes. You know how thorny their outer skin is?"

Eryn nodded.

"But once those outer thorns are shed, you find a shiny nut with beautiful sheen inside. But even that, it is only a shell, one that is difficult to peel. And if you manage, you find another layer of bitter skin that is even more difficult to handle. But, if you succeed in peeling them, you'll find a nut that is sweet and good."

"Hmmm. So, have you gotten past that bitter inner skin?"

Elrond shook his head. "I like to think I have, but you know how hard it is to get to all of them."

"I never liked chestnuts," she said. "Too much work."

Elrond smiled. "You don't know what you are missing. All nuts are hard to crack. And while others return little for the hard work, with chestnuts, you know the work was worth it."

A bird twittered, a call of a fellow warrior.

Elrond looked down. Thranduil stood there. He waved at them to come down.

Eryn picked up her pack. "I heard that you can peel them easily by roasting them. Maybe all we need is a good fire." She grinned as she climbed down the cliff.

"I got ourselves a ride. Let's go." Thranduil took his pack from Elrond.

"What do you mean ride?" Eryn asked.

"Just follow." Thranduil jumped up onto a tree next to him.

They had no choice but to climb after him. Where Thranduil took them, two large moose stood there.

"What in Belegaer, Thranduil!" Elrond couldn't say more as Thranduil jumped onto the back of one.

"They agreed to give us a ride to the other end of the forest. The Silmacils are not too far from us. If we were to walk out of here, they would know which direction we went."

"They would know anyway." Elrond sighed. "They know we are tracking Aron. They only needed to track the soldiers and hunters who went after Aron."

"Precisely. They will follow the trail. But we will cut across the forest and pick up the trail from outside. There is a rocky terrain where the forest ends and another track of forest starts. There may be caves there, the kind where Orcs would prefer to rest."

"Wouldn't they know about that, too?"

"Yes, but they are meticulous. At least, Thoron is. He will take the time to check each trail to make sure they didn't miss anything. They are on their horses, and they know we are on foot."

Thranduil offered his hand for Elrond. Eryn approached the other animal slowly. She hesitated but got on the back of the animal when it stood quietly. As soon as they did that, both moose took to a run.

The trees sped past them as the two animals broke into a sprint. Elrond hung on to Thranduil who seems to whisper into the ear of the animal.

Elrond bit down on his back teeth. He had never run through the forest at such speed before. He wondered how Thranduil was doing this. Elrond knew Thranduil's special talents lay with the trees. And for a while, he thought Thranduil's ability extended to the animals, that he had learned the language of the animals as had Celegorm and some Green Elves. But Thranduil did not speak a separate language. It was as if he understood their tongue. Perhaps it was part of his talents, but talents began at birth. And they grew stronger as your powers grew. Like any skill, those special talents became stronger with age and use. But, it seemed to Elrond that Thranduil's ability to communicate with these animals just suddenly happened.

Thranduil had told him he learned to speak to the birds and other little forest critters from Lady Melian. But that had not included bigger animals. The ability to speak to these bigger animals seemed to have begun after they returned from the Dwarven ruins.

With a bound and a leap, the two moose carried them outside the forest in a matter of minutes. The moose dropped them off at the beginning of craggy landscape, the last remnant of the Hills of Evendim before a stretch of a large tract of the verdant forest to the east and a thin line of the evergreen-dominated boreal forest to the north.

"I hope we get to them before they disappear among those pines. They will be harder to track, even if they are Orcs, with pine needles all over the floor." Thranduil sighed, his eyes dark with worry as he traced the area.

With large and small rocks tangled into a large mess in strange shapes, everything looked gray and much like everything else. Just beyond the tangled rocks, several large pines stood.

"There!" Eryn shouted. From where they were, Elrond did not see anything out of ordinary. But Eryn's face flushed as she jumped down and ran to the group of pines. The woman certainly had keen eyesight.

The place was a small grove where several pines stood like a wall. Upturned rocks strewn on the ground were marked with dents and grooves, spattered here and there with black and red blood. Nearby trees had chunks of barks torn. One of the young trees stood slanted, its limb cracked and dented as if something of great force struck it.

Tracking was not Elrond's specialty, but even to his inexperienced eyes, he could tell there had been a battle here.

Thranduil skipped from one area to another, his lips thin, his eyes glowing like a naked blade. Frown sat on his brow like dark clouds.

"What do you see, Mistress Eryn?" He turned suddenly and asked the Green Elf.

"Uh, there was a battle?"

"Yes, yes. What else?"

"No one died." She looked around the grove.

Thranduil stopped, then looked at Eryn steadily.

"How many left with Durion?" Thranduil asked after a moment of silence.

"Three guards and three hunters."

"So few?" Elrond was surprised. "According to Officer Harnen, there were quite many Orcs."

"Our village not big. We knew the fort would send aid, but we needed enough strength within the village. About a week ago, we sent out our hunters and some of them had not returned."

"Send out hunters?" Elrond blinked. "I thought Green Elves did not eat meat? And with the New Year only a few days away, shouldn't the hunters have been recalled? Especially with the Orc attack?"

"Not hunt animals to eat like your people do. We had wolves attack children more than a week before the Orc attack. Hunters went out to deal with them. They on their way, except for two. They did not return, but maybe they returned now."

"Two went missing?" Thranduil tilted his head. "Why didn't Harnen mention that?"

"He arrived the day before the Orc incident. He didn't know about the wolves."

"How about the soldiers from the fort? How many went after Durion and his hunters?" Thranduil began to pace, and Elrond wondered what his friend was thinking.

"Twenty came and ten went after the trackers."

"So, seventeen. They all converged here. But they separated into two groups in different directions." Thranduil pointed to two different directions.

"Durion went this way," Eryn pointed to where a young tree with the cracked limb stood. Many heavy feet had trampled on the dry grass about the tree. The track led east to the forest budding with green leaves.

Much fewer people went the other way, toward the northeast to the boreal forest of pines and spruce.

Elrond looked up and saw fear in Thranduil's eyes.

"If we take a wrong turn now, we will lose Aron." Thranduil was trying his best to keep cool, but Elrond heard the tremor in his voice. He understood. Orcs rarely keep their prisoners alive for more than a week.

Secondborn-refers to Men. Elves were created first, so they are called Firstborn.

elleth (Sindarin, Elf-maid)

Valinor/ Aman-Valinor refers to the lands of the Valar. The continent where Valinor exists is called Aman. It is the home of Valar and the Eldar who left Middle-earth.

Ossiriand (Sindarin, Land of Seven Rivers)-eastern region of Beleriand with seven rivers running through it. It is a wooded region where, with the permission of Thingol, Nandor led by Denethor settled. These Elves were later known as the Green Elves.