North of Ash Mountains. July 1, SA 722

GRIMWINE gasped. He grabbed onto the arm holding the knife as he was dragged away from the wall of the ledge.

The wind picked up, swirling and screaming.

"Where is the Elf's sword?" asked a familiar singsong voice.

"Minstrel?"

The arm around Grimwine's neck relaxed, and the shadow stepped back. "Forgive me. I did not know it was you."

"How is it you are on your feet?" The last time Grimwine went to see the elf, it was early morning. Minstrel was still weak and unable to even sit up.

"We heal quickly."

"That is good timing. I thought it best that you escape tonight while the rain still lingers in the air."

"I believe we were of like mind. I would have been gone, but there are things I must retrieve first."

"These?" Grimwine pulled out the sword and the bow from under his cape. The elf's eyes grew large. He also handed the elf a pouch containing the food he had been saving. "Your other things were placed next to you."

"I am aware." Minstrel looked down at the weapons and the pouch of food, and he remained silent. But his hand trembled.

"Just repaying my debts, that's all. Let's go now while they sleep."

"What do you mean?" Minstrel looked up.

"You are in no condition to go alone. It's been only four days since you awoke after nearly three weeks of sleeping with no nourishment."

Grimwine turned to go, but the elf stood immobile. The Northman turned to the elf and frowned. Under the hood the elf wore, his eyes blazed like two stars in the dark of the night.

"We are much stronger than we look. Unlike you mortals, we could survive with very minimal nourishment. But you would abandon your brother for a stranger?" There was an unfamiliar tone in the elf's voice that Grimwine could not understand.

"I am not leaving Shoddy. We could make it seem as if I was taken as your prisoner. And once you are far enough away, I could tell them I escaped. I just want to make sure you'll make it."

"I thank you for your concern and for these." He lifted the weapons and the pouch. "But it is not necessary. You should—"

The elf stopped suddenly, his finger on his lips to stop Grimwine from speaking. He looked up at the ledge at the entrance of the cave. "Someone is awake," Minstrel whispered, then he turned to Grimwine. "When you wake, tell them you heard a noise and came out to investigate. I am sorry, but this will hurt."

"Wha— " Grimwine did not finish. The elf's movement was a blur.

Searing pain flashed behind his head, and like a feather falling onto the ground, Grimwine fell.

I will be with you. I will be watching.

It was the elf's voice, coming from somewhere far.

GRIMWINE blinked. His head was a rock, stiff and heavy. He groaned and looked up, meeting two deep gray eyes filled with worry. He padded the back of his head where a dull pain throbbed. He had a bandage around his head.

"Shoddy." Grimwine could not recognize his voice when he spoke. It was ashy and halting.

"You'll live," Shoddy said, his voice rough. He turned away as if that was that, but Grimwine knew his brother. Shoddy's head and face, which had been shaved fresh every morning since he lost his wife and child, had grown a fuzz.

"I am all right. Really."

Shoddy scoffed. "You better be because I would be thrashing you now if you weren't. I don't believe that elf escaped without help." Shoddy's lips thinned. "If it wasn't Kemik who told me he saw the elf made that deadly strike, I would have thought you tried to help him escape." Shoddy looked directly at Grimwine. "You are the one who untied him, didn't you?"

Grimwine wasn't sure what to tell his brother. He didn't want to lie to Shoddy, but then, it would be better if his brother did not know. He looked out of the cave. Outside was a gray world where rain fell like mists. Although it was dark, it was a day.

"How long was I out?" Instead of answering his brother, Grimwine asked. "And where are Kemik and his men?" He looked around the empty cave. Have they left them to look for Minstrel? Were they abandoned here without a horse or food?

"All night," Shoddy said, spitting out the response in his terse way. "Kemik is outside waiting for his men to return with the horses. You still didn't answer me." Shoddy seemed determined to hear his answer, but Grimwine did not need to worry as there was no time for him to reply.

"Here's Kemik." Shoddy lowered his voice. "Tell him you know nothing, that you heard a noise and just went to check."

Kemik walked in, his cape dripping with water.

"How's your head, friend?"

"It hurts, but I can manage," said Grimwine.

"You were lucky I was there. I saw you fall, friend, and the elf jumped into the night. And he disturbed all the horses."

"Kemik said if the elf cut any deeper, you would have died instantly," Shoddy said. "If our friend here didn't wake and went out to look, the elf may have killed you."

"You not in pain?" Kemik asked.

"I'm fine, I think." Grimwine rubbed at the bandage. His head felt heavy, but the pain had subsided.

"Then, tell me what happened?" Kemik's hand strayed to the hilt of his sword. Although the Easterling's voice was friendly as usual, there was a look in his eyes that warned Grimwine that he must tread carefully.

His brother, ever wary, hovered over Grimwine, keeping Kemik from coming too close. The Northman swallowed, seeing his brother keeping his ax close and ready for a strike.

"I didn't mean to, but I must have fallen asleep. I guess I was more tired than I thought." Myriad of thoughts converged and diverged inside his head, but his brother had taught him to keep things simple when making excuses.

He continued, rubbing at the bandage. "Something woke me up, and I found everyone sleeping. The rain seemed less, but I thought I heard something down there by the wagon, so I went down to check when someone grabbed me. It was the elf, and I tried to talk to him. He let me go initially, but then, I think he heard something and it startled him. He moved. Then everything is a blur then on."

"So it was not you who unbound him?" Kemik's eyes were cold.

"Actually, yes. I did unbind his ropes." Grimwine's heart boomed. But he knew Kemik had known of it. It was no use lying to him now. "Since we left that land of the fire mountain, I slackened the ropes around him. I wanted to keep him comfortable. After all, he helped us with that spider. I thought you knew about that. He was unbound for some time now. But, you didn't say anything. And he was asleep for nearly three weeks, never waking up. I thought he was not a danger. You even said you didn't know how to wake him." Grimwine could tell he was walking on the edge of a blade, so he told as much truth as he dared. "I am sorry. I don't know what more to say."

"We must have this man returned." Kemik nodded, his brows drawn together, but he looked away as if he was in deep thought.

"Not a Man but an Elf," Shoddy said. "And he almost killed my brother. Next time I see him, I will kill him."

"Not sure if you could, even if you desire it." Kemik smiled, although it did not reach his eyes.

"Well, good riddance. We could do without him. We will get where the hell we are going faster without that wagonload of his crap on it."

"You forget, friend, but we came here to take him to my master. My lord wanted to see you two, but if we fail to bring him with us, my master will be very unhappy. And I tell you, friend, you do not want my master unhappy."

"Well, in this weather we cannot hope to catch up to him without horses," Grimwine said.

"My men are gathering the horses. The man… the elf scattered them while taking one horse for himself, but our horses are trained to return to us." Kemik looked outside the cave as if he could see through the gray gloom. "We will do what we can to locate him before the rain stops completely. And for the elf's sake, I hope we can find him before my master realizes he escaped us. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a pleasant experience for the elf or us. Losing him changes everything."

Kemik's face, usually warm and friendly, was unusually grim and tense.

"What do you mean by that?" Grimwine asked. His heart which had calmed quickened again.

"Once the weather clears, my master will know that the elf escaped us. But what the elf does not know is that there is no escaping my master. Especially not after he had been bestowed with my master's favor. But the elf will learn what it is to displease my lord."

Grimwine saw what looked to be like regret in the Easterling's eyes. He wasn't sure what that regret was for, for the elf, or for him. It was hard to believe what Kemik was saying, but something about the way the Easterling said it made it clear that he believed what he said, and that made Grimwine believe.

"How would your master know how to find him?" Grimwine asked.

"The same way he knows exactly where each one of his servants is. Have I not told you he is a god? He has powers that you and I cannot even dream of." He picked up his pack. "Be prepared to ride out as soon as my men arrive with the horses." The Easterling thinned his lips. With a dark look on his face, he turned to the brothers. "And pray for all our sakes."

East of the Sea of Rhun. July 2, SA 722

MAIRON disliked getting wet. The water made everything dirty, droopy, and slippery. He had made a cocoon of dry weather around himself and his escort. He had power over elements, but it was limited to a small area.

Leaving his escort to wait underneath a ledge of rocks he shaped around his escort of men and horses, he went up the layers of rocks where the mountain had collapsed and formed a ragged cliff. By the look of the irregular rift in the mountain, Mairon could see that it was part of the damage caused by the War of Wrath. Although the war had erupted in the westernmost part of the Middle-earth, it had left its after-effects all the way here.

The sky northwest of him, the one over the great forest, was clearing. But the eastern sky was thick with gray clouds. It was good for the Orcs, but all this rain was making it harder for him to keep his eyes on others.

Mairon gazed up at the slate-gray sky. The rain pelted down on his head, but he had extended his aura all around him so the rain would not touch him.

Rain was a combined creation of Manwe and Ulmo. When roused, their combined forces were terrifying, and there was a time when Mairon feared to stand in the full force of a rainstorm. But he was beginning to understand that no matter the strength of their powers, Valar would not use them to influence anything or anyone on Middle-earth now that Melkor was no longer here.

It was apparent to him that Valar had no intention of intervening on the behalf of the Elves or Men. They had taken his master, not to give Middle-earth to Eru's children, but to triumph over his master and his power and influence on Middle-earth. If that was not so, then why had they allowed him and the other remaining creatures his master controlled to remain in this world after the war?

They had won. They had taken Melkor from this world. If it was his master who had won, Melkor would have utterly destroyed each and every member who opposed him.

All this time, Mairon had been careful not to gather Valar's notice, but he realized now that there was no reason for him to hide. They were never coming after him.

The wind howled and the rain roared.

Mairon opened his arms wide. The black cape he wore billowed behind him, revealing the long red robe, the color of blood, he wore underneath. His hair, like flames, danced wildly around him. The wind and the rain screamed as they circled him like the boring reprimands of the Valar.

"I am here," he shouted in Valarian into the wind. "And I will remain here. That is my will. Take it which way thou wilt."

Mairon glared at the sky with all the defiance he had, then with a scoff, he turned away. As he did so, he caught sight of a flowering bush bowed down next to a rock.

Something sharp swept across his left chest. Mairon frowned, but he turned away. He had promised himself that he would not regret his decisions, no matter what may come. The ache increased, and Mairon rubbed at his chest where the soreness seemed to emanate. The longer he wore an incarnate form, the more things happened to it that he did not understand. Perhaps it was time for him to take another form. Once he was done with the matters dealing with Thranduil and Maglor, he would think on it.

At least now, Mairon could understand some part of what his master had said to him before the Valar came to take him:

"My brother may whine, but he does not know the full intent of the One. Only I have the full knowledge. Only I understand all that he intends. My brother does not understand he exists because I exist. I am the one meant to leave a lasting mark on the Arda, not him. By subduing me, they think they have won, but my seeds are already sown. I am part of this world now, and no amount of their whining would undo that. And you, my little spirit of fire, you are my gift to this world, the caretaker of my legacy."

And the gift he shall be to this world, whether or not it understands. Just as the Valar who had failed to understand his master, Eru's children seemed stubbornly bound to shadow the footsteps of the Valar. They seemed intent on only seeing evil rather than innovation and advancement. Change. They stubbornly bound themselves to what had been rather than to what could be and would be. But he would bring wisdom and understanding. He shall open their eyes.

Ignoring the wind and the rain, he walked further into the mountain when he found a large cave among the fallen rocks.

Inside was dry from the wind and rain. Surrounding himself in fire, Mairon commanded the darkness to flee and walked in further into the cave until the incessant admonishment of the winds dwindled into a whisper.

He reached into the Orcs. He could not reach Kemik or Dernwulf, and his creatures were hiding from the rainstorm, making them useless to him. But he could always rely on getting clear communication from the Orcs, no matter the weather.

The Orcs were having a terrible time on the boat. It was not something unexpected. They hated water as much as he did, as did all the creatures born of fire. But the river was the quickest route from the mountains of Greenwood to the temple. Mairon knew the boat wouldn't last. The waters were turbulent and his Orcs did not know how to handle a boat. But he had seen the layout of the land through the eyes of the Orcs. And that waterfall.

It was the perfect trap.

Mairon had come to know Thranduil well, his temperament, strengths as well as weaknesses. And his knowledge, too. Sinda knew Orcs. Even if others did not, Mairon was certain Thranduil would know who was behind the Orc attack at the waterfall the moment he found the Orcs took the boat.

"I have taken your mentor and guardian, Thranduil Oropherion. You know what that means, don't you, Sinda?"

It was an open invitation for Thranduil and the Sinda would have known it. Mairon knew well that as formidable as those Sindarin warriors in Greenwood Forest were, they were too few, and they were not prepared to engage with any sizeable forces. Thranduil, who had been trained at Lindon, would understand this better than anyone among his father's people.

Mairon knew Thranduil would come, but not with his head down. This Sinda would try something. That much Mairon knew; he just didn't know what. Although the Maia knew Thranduil's tendencies, the elf was temperamental. He didn't always behave the way Mairon expected him to behave. Sinda was the variable that was difficult to predict. But this time, Mairon was prepared for the unknown. At least, he had made room to account for the many variables that may come.

Through the Orc's eyes, Mairon saw Lord Istuion tied up on the sole mast of the boat. He sat with his leg sprawled in front of him with his head lolling on his chest. His white head of hair had blood smeared on it. A young woman, a child really, clung to the Sinda's body, terror evident in her tear-streaked face.

Have I not told you not to harm the prisoners? Mairon growled when he spotted a broken arrow protruding on Istuion's body.

The old Sinda was in a pitiable state. His armor had been ripped off him and Mairon could see the light green tunic dark with bloodstains.

The Orc he was communicating with immediately kneeled and groveled.

"He's alive, my lord. The elf scum killed several of us in the boat, trying to let that little snot get away, master. We couldn't bring him down without hurting him. He had taken one of our weapons."

Silence! Keep him alive. If you lose him, you will pay for it with your life.

The Orc cowed before him, but Mairon turned to the girl. The Orcs had wanted to toy with the girl or kill her. And although Mairon did not know who she was, her resemblance to Istuion, and how fiercely the old Sinda tried to protect her, made him order the Orcs to keep her untouched.

Mairon wasn't sure yet, but something told him she may be useful.

Where are the rest of the prisoners?

"Below deck, master. They well. Not a hair missing on their head as you commanded."

Why isn't the girl below with the others?

"She clung to the scum and would not let go. You didn't want her harmed, so…" the orc looked lost as he looked sideways, then at his feet.

Put her with the rest. No… Something in Mairon's senses tingled. Keep her with him. On the deck where she can be seen. And when the time comes to separate into two groups, take her with the Sinda. Do you understand what needs to be done?

"Yes." The Orc nodded. "But master, how long… the sun…" The Orc tried but withered before completing his sentence.

Mairon knew what was on the Orc's mind, however. He looked around the boat. Several places in the boat were damaged. Knowing the lack of skill on the part of the Orcs to handle a boat, Mairon was not surprised. But he also knew from his experiences at the Grey Havens during his time as Gelir that Elven boats were surprisingly resilient. No matter the abuse it will take from the environment, it will stay afloat while there are people on it.

But the sun was another matter. Mairon looked up at the sky where, despite the clouds covering the majority of it, there were parts of the sky that was brightening. Its light could be dulled, but the sun could shine through some parts of the day. That was bad news.

He looked at the Orcs. Many of the Orcs were retching over the rail, some whimpering on corners. The Orcs were not used to extended rides over the water. He knew he was taking a risk by sending them down the river, especially on an Elven boat. But in a rainstorm, it was difficult to leave tracks for the scouts. Torrents of rain could cover even the messiest prints of the Orcs even from the most capable Elven scouts. And for his purpose, Mairon needed Thranduil to know exactly the route they would take.

It was also the clearest message he could send Thranduil.

Once the sun comes out, you can ground the boat for a while until its strongest rays pass. Further south you come, there will be clouds enough to shield you from the sun.

"Tha… thank you, master." The Orc groveled on his knees, clearly relieved.

Mairon did not know how Thranduil planned to catch up to the boat two days ahead of him. But knowing the Sinda as he did, the Maia did not doubt that Thranduil would find a way. But grounding the boat for half a day would help.

Mairon pulled away from the Orc. How long must he deal with these weak, loathsome creatures? He could not wait for the elegant Elven soldiers to replace these Orcs.

Scrunching his face, Mairon walked out of the cave. The rain and the wind had dwindled into a drizzle and a hiss. He turned his gaze to the great forest. It was too great a distance for him to see with his naked eyes. Briefly, he was tempted to leave his body here at the top of the cliff to go see with his own eyes. He longed to see where Maglor was and what Thranduil was doing. No amount of rain and wind could stop his unclad form from going where he willed, no matter the distance.

But, to leave his body alone, even if surrounded by his trusted guards, Mairon would not do, not after what almost happened at the Dwarven ruin. The Maia shivered at the thought of having almost lost his fana. Unlike in Valinor, where he never had trouble taking any bodily shape he wanted, here in Middle-earth, every time his fana was destroyed, he found himself weaker, his powers that much diminished.

No. He would not risk it.

Things were going as he planned, but Mairon knew things could quickly change. There were still many variables, the kinds he could not predict or plan for, such as weather.

Along with the weather, Thranduil's father was one such unknown. Mairon knew nothing about him. But he had prepared enough distractions for Oropher and the group of warriors the old Sinda would muster and bring. As long as Oropher kept his distance, Mairon had no quarrel with him. He had no interest in the Sindar or the Silvans of the Greenwood. It was only the old Sinda's son he wanted. Well, not even that. Just his blood. That was the only thing worth salvaging from Thranduil.

He bent his neck to one side then to the other to loosen the muscles there. Mairon would not blunder again by shifting his focus at the last minute. This was the last experiment and the last piece of the puzzle before he could move onto the next stage in his plan.

And this time, he would not make the mistake of deviating from his primary goal.

Fana (Quenya. Raiment, veil)—physical shapes Ainur (angelic spirits referring to both Valar and Maiar) take to interact with the incarnates such as Elves, Men, etc.