Ragnarok

The End of Eä

                This is what is known as "fan fiction," so I obviously don't own the characters or places.  I do own the plot, however, and plagiarism will not be tolerated.  If you want to borrow events or post this fic on another site, just ask; I'll probably say yes.

                This fic starts just prior to the bearers of the Three leaving Middle-Earth.  *ahem!*  That was obviously a spoiler.  If you haven't read all of The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion, stay far away from this fic!  I doubt there will be any spoilers for The Hobbit.  Also, my absolute favorite character is Elrond, so look to see the Peredhil and their friends all over the place.  THIS IS BOOK-VERSE!

                This will be a dark fic, violent, probably depressing, and (knowing me) may eventually contain some shounen-ai or slashy undertones.  I currently have *gasp* no pairings set up for this fic, because the main plot is meant to operate independently to any sex, but please be advised that it may happen.

A note:  If anyone knows of any good Sindarin or Quenya dictionaries, I would very much appreciate if you'd let me know.  I don't know if I'm ready to try writing in Elvish, yet, but I may eventually feel the urge, and I don't want to be spouting nonsense.  Especially since all I know right now is 'ada' and the prayer to Elbereth, and the meanings of most of the names of people and places.  So maybe I know a little, but help is still appreciated, especially if said dictionaries also have grammar.  Thank you and enjoy my sad little contribution to this amazing fandom!

Part Two

The Council of the Three

Galadriel mentally frowned at the sight of Imladris.  There was something wrong here, and she couldn't quite figure out what.  Well, not until she saw Celeborn's hand straying toward his sword in the reflexive action of one who has seen too much war.  Once she saw that, however, Galadriel realized what was wrong.

Imladris's beautiful, graceful architecture and reputation as a place of learning had developed atop what was, in essence, a military stronghold.  Now it seemed to fit its legacy, with weaponry in every alcove, Elves and Men training in every spare courtyard, and the sharp ringing of hammer and anvil loud in the air as weapon and armor smiths churned out their products at a frantic pace.  All the paraphernalia of war was much in evidence, and the implications both frightened and angered Galadriel.

Her Mirror had not seen this.

She nodded courteously to the armed guards that met them at the gate, then swept through, fuming internally, though her face was as serene as ever.  Is Elrond mad?  What is he doing?  Or maybe this is the work of the twins.  But I cannot see even mannish Elladan doing something like this; he has no idea the military strength Imladris actually possesses.

Galadriel shook off her pensive thoughts when a warm hand came to rest on her shoulder.  She mustered a small smile for Celeborn, who shook his head slightly, telling her wordlessly that her act had not escaped him and that he had no more idea what was happening than she did.  She smiled a truer smile for her husband, and he squeezed her shoulder lightly before letting his hand fall.

Just then, Erestor bustled over to their party and bowed to Celeborn and herself, and Galadriel fixed the dark-haired assistant to Elrond with a level stare which he actually managed to ignore.  This surprised her greatly, since the last time she had so much as glanced at him, the poor Elf had been squirming within moments.  He must have been getting practice at ignoring the unsettling stares of the more powerful members of Elven-kind.  Galadriel felt a moment's sympathy for Erestor; the poor Elf was probably being run ragged by Elrond.

"My Lord, My Lady.  I apologize for the wait, but the Northern Dúnedain contingent is also recently arrived.  Now, if you will step this way, I shall show you to your chambers.  My aides shall escort your people to the guest house."

Galadriel obediently followed the busy Elf, biding her time until she could corner him, albeit inconspicuously, to question him.  However, upon reaching the rooms Galadriel and Celeborn were given whenever they visited Imladris, Erestor bowed again to her.

"Master Elrond sends his regards and requests that the Lady Galadriel join him in the north garden at the nooning hour tomorrow.  He promises that what he has to say will make all clear."  The dark-haired Elf delivered the message in a polite, formal manner, but the pitch of his voice rose slightly on the end, making an interrogative.  Galadriel realized that even those closest to Elrond had no idea what was going on, and obeyed only out of love for and trust in their lord.

Galadriel inclined her head graciously.  "Thank you very much for your time, Erestor, and also for the message.  If you would please convey to Master Elrond may acceptance of his invitation?"

The Elf bowed again.  "I shall, Lady Galadriel."

Galadriel smiled.  "Then I shall bid you goodnight."  She turned to Celeborn.  "Come, Husband.  It has been a long journey, we are both weary, and it has been long since we last rested in a bed as comfortable as those in Imladris."

Celeborn nodded gravely and smiled slightly at Erestor.  "Please also give Elrond our regards and our thanks for his hospitality."  Erestor bowed yet again, and this time left.  Celeborn chuckled softly once the busy Elf was out of earshot.  "There goes one seriously over-worked Elf.  Unfortunate for him, but I am glad he has become so adept at his duties.  I remember when he was so new to Imladris, he did not even know where the gates were."

Galadriel smiled.  "Indeed."  She didn't bother to hide her yawn from him.  "But for now, I should like very much to make use of the bed our son-by-law has been kind enough to furnish us with.

Celeborn offered her his arm with a bow and a teasing smile.  "Of course, my Lady.  If I might escort you?"

Galadriel giggled, a sound most at odds with her customarily rigid formality and placed her hand lightly upon his arm.  "Certainly, my Lord," she said, and followed Celeborn into the room, her heart light, despite Middle Earth's seeming to fall apart all around them.

Both Lord and Lady slept easily that night.

*

            Elrond looked up as Galadriel entered the secluded spot of garden he had chosen for this conversation.  He rose courteously to his feet, exchanged the usual meaningless pleasantries, and offered his powerful mother-by-law a seat.  Galadriel responded to all his formal greetings in kind, but her eyes were sharp upon him, and he felt the perverse desire to cover himself.  He held on, though, sat only after she had, and remained quiet several moments longer.

            Finally, Galadriel seemed to be getting impatient, and Elrond decided to just out with it…a bit obliquely, of course, in the Elven manner.

            "What has Galadriel's Mirror shown its Lady recently, Mother, mine?"

            Galadriel almost blinked at his apparent non sequitur, and Elrond counted it the last victory he would ever have over his kinswoman.  The ancient Elf recovered quickly and answered in a perfectly cool voice, "Many things the Mirror shows to those who behold it."

            She was hedging, unsure what he was getting at, and intent on playing her cards close to her chest until she found out.  It had made her an astute politician, and a great guardian of her people, but Elrond was himself accomplished in the arena of politics and followed his intuition.

            "Has the Mirror said aught of the Future, Mother?  What of the Now?"

            Galadriel visibly twitched at the question, and Elrond counted an amazing two consecutive victories against her.  "The Mirror shows the remnants of the Shadow in its last strength all over Middle Earth.  Of the Future, the Mirror reveals nothing."

            Elrond leaned forward, feeling his heart chill and his stomach drop.  "Reveals nothing?  Or shows Nothing?"

            Galadriel glared at him, and he shivered under the weight of her eyes, counting her a point even as he struggled to regain his equilibrium.  "I, Master Elrond, have not come all this way to quibble with you over semantics.  I should think the journey to the Havens will be most unpleasant if you are in this mood the whole way."

            Ooh, time for the surprise, Elrond thought.  "I shall not be going to the Havens, Galadriel."

            Galadriel looked angry, shocked, saddened, and confused all at once.  "What?  Why not, Elrond?  This journey has been planned for months.  Have you yet told Gandalf?  What has he to say of this?"

            Just then, a powerful, if soft, voice came to them.  "Indeed, Elrond.  Were you going to leave out old Gandalf?"

            Elrond turned to the grey-robed person who had entered their piece of garden with a tiny smile.  "Ah, Olórin.  I decided to let the matter of informing you be worked out in the usual way.  For no one, Elf or Man, can often hold a secret from you for long!"  Elrond sobered.  "It is good that you are here now.  Please, sit with us, Gandalf."

            When the Maia had seated himself, Elrond drew a deep breath, then turned back to Galadriel.  "I apologize if you see it as a mere matter of semantics, Galadriel, but to me, the difference between 'to reveal nothing' and 'to show Nothing' is greater than you might know.  Now, have you an answer to my question?"

            The older Elf shook her head.  "Nay, for if I did not perceive the difference when I gazed in the Mirror, I surely cannot now, from memory."

            Elrond sighed.  "So even that much is hidden…"  A flash of pain passed behind his eyes, but this was not The Vision, merely the memory of his conversation with Námo in the guise of a dream.  He looked up at his fellow ring-bearers.  Had he seen the light in his eyes, he would have been as unsettled as Gandalf and Galadriel were.

            "You knew me not in my youth, either of you; for you, Olórin, were yet in Valinor, and I was nobody of importance to Galadriel, save that my family had possession of one of the Cursed Jewels.  But in the First Age, I Saw many things, Visions given me by Námo."  He saw their surprise but plunged on.

            "Since the end of the First Age, I have not had many Visions, for the Valar have seldom reached outside Valinor directly since that time, and what few I have had have come not from Valinor, but from my own perception.  However, several weeks past I received a Vision."  Elrond paused, steeling himself for the telling of one of the most frightening experiences in his whole life.

            "Námo came to me.  He showed me a war, more terrible than anything I remember, save perhaps the War of Wrath, and my memories of that are dim indeed.  I saw—" he cut himself off before he mentioned Gil-galad.  "I saw many things.  Námo then showed to me the Future he Sees for Eä, and it was Nothing.  There was no future.  Eä is in its Final Days."

            Galadriel stiffened and Gandalf half-rose, so Elrond allowed a few minutes for his elders to regain their composure, knowing the moment they did, he would be bombarded with difficult to answer questions.  He was not wrong.

            Galadriel asked first.  "If this is true, Master Elrond, how does preparing Imladris for war help?  Surely, it would be best to send the troops you have summoned here back to their homes to be with their families at the End."

            Elrond sighed.  "What Námo sees as a short time to the end may be quite a while.  There are likely years yet.  However, that great war was a much closer piece of the Future. The armies of Middle Earth were massing against great hordes of orcs and other foul beasts.  I do not yet know the source of this darkness—" he cut his eyes up at his companions, hoping he had not lost any credibility, before continuing.  "But it is a darkness that chills me to my bones."

            Gandalf quirked a brow in the silence that followed.  "But Elrond, that did not answer the question.  If the world is ending, why prepare for war?  Will it change anything?"

            Elrond nodded.  "It will change the fates of many Men.  While the Elves have never had any beliefs about judgment after the End, every culture among men, almost without exception, does.  Men may have more idea of their fates than they realize.  Elvenkind has never produced any truly evil individuals, but Mankind has.  The hearts of Men may be subverted for any number of vile purposes, though all purposes work to Ilúvatar's will in the end."

Elrond sighed.  "Perhaps it is the blood of Men flowing in by veins that makes me feel so, but I do not believe we should abandon Men to whatever evil would seek to make use of them.  It is the duty of elder siblings to look after the younger, thus it is the duty of the elder Children of Ilúvatar to aid the Aftercomers.  We would be remiss to leave Mankind without any support."

Gandalf nodded solemnly.  "You may be correct, Master Elrond.  However, I do not know that anyone—Elf, Maia, or Vala—has the right, or even the ability, to interfere with the fate of even one Man.  Eru made them different from Elves for a reason, though it be hidden from us."

Elrond felt a spike of anger lance out of the Mannish portions of his being, though he did not let it show.  "Do we then have the right to heal?  Perhaps those whose lives we have struggled for were meant to die, and we had no right to cleanse and close their wounds, to feed and shelter them.  Perhaps the very act of helping another living being to go on living is wrong."

Elrond shook his head slowly, negating all he had just said.  "I cannot believe that, Olórin.  You yourself said you doubted the ability of any being to alter the fate of even one Man.  If the Elves attempt to help Men resist the temptations the Enemy places before them, then it must be part of Ilúvatar's designs."

Galadriel raised one eyebrow expressively.  "Elrond, just what enemy do you think to face with this army?  Men's temptations lie within their beings; no army can stave off the forces at work inside the hearts of Men.  At most, your forces will remove some external sources from which those dark promises come."

Elrond nodded sadly. "No matter how little it may be, we must do all that we can.  Well, those who choose to.  I will tell the armies why they have been summoned shortly after they all arrive.  After that—at least of those Elves who look to me to lead them—they shall be free to stay or go as they please.  I know that not all the Firstborn are as tolerant of Men as I.  I seem to have a personal stake in the matter, after all."

Gandalf sighed.  "There is still the matter of the Three to address.  Elrond, what would you have done with Vilya?  It has no power, now, save as a symbol only.  It should not matter whether it stays or goes, yet I would have even the symbols of such a power taken to Valinor to rest under the eyes of the Valar."

Elrond nodded.  "As would I, ordinarily.  However, I have long been its bearer and—"  Elrond smiled wryly.  "This will doubtless sound disturbing, but Vilya is precious to me.  It was given me by my King, to guard and keep until the appointed time.  I cannot help but feel that that time is not yet."  He sighed.  "It would be best to send it to Valinor, perhaps to give it to Bilbo to ease his suffering on his journey.  And yet…I cannot do it, Olórin.  Not yet."

Galadriel smiled.  "Gil-galad is still your King, Elrond?  After all this time?  Dear to your heart and to the hearts of all Elves he was, but is this not excessive?"

Elrond shrugged.  "I cannot even begin to explain it to you.  Indeed, I have yet to explain it to myself, and I have been trying the whole of this Age!  But I feel the time…just is not right, not yet.  Soon though; perhaps very soon."

Galadriel shook her head.  "It would be a shame to separate the Three at this late date.  If you will not reconsider, perhaps I shall give Nenya to Celeborn to remember me by."

Elrond cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her.  "If he cannot remember you by now, my Lady, after a marriage lasting almost as long as all of Elven history, then I doubt any trinket will help."

Gandalf chuckled.  "Indeed!  To be unable to remember to remember the love of one's life would indicate a mind and heart that retain as much as a pot filled with holes!"

Elrond shook his head.  "That's 'a mind like a steel sieve,' Olórin.  Perhaps, I ought to worry about your memory, also?  You are by far the oldest here."

Gandalf smiled through his beard.  "That may be, Master Elrond.  But then, perhaps I should be skeptical of advice from one so young as yourself.  Why, compared to even Galadriel, here, you are but a baby!"

Galadriel laughed at the look on her son-by-law's face, as if he had swallowed something extremely sour.  "True enough, Gandalf!" she exclaimed, but regained her composure quickly.  "If Vilya and Nenya are to stay in Middle Earth, what, I wonder, shall Gandalf the White do with Narya?  Shall he bear it across the Sea?  Or shall he leave it here?  And if he would leave it, who should he leave it with?"

            Gandalf smiled.  "Peace, my friend.  I shall leave Narya with her sisters.  However, who I shall give it to shall remain secret, for I do not know that I like the thought of the Three all in places where they might be discovered.  Perhaps 'tis naught but a remnant of the old paranoia, but I would rest better in the West knowing I did some feeble something to protect my old companion."

            Elrond could not help but agree.  His own Ring Bearer's paranoia had been starting to protest, also, though he could think of no reason why it should.  Besides, as soon as Gil-galad returned, Elrond would return Vilya to its rightful owner.

            Elrond rose.  "Well, that takes care of all the matters I can think of.  Did either of you still have questions?"

            Gandalf stepped in front of Elrond suddenly, peering closely at him.  Elrond recoiled from the sudden close proximity, then stiffened as he felt a 'touch' on his mind.  He knew fighting would not help, but he remembered too well the painful joy of Námo's touch, and all of his mental defenses sprang to readiness.  It was something all Elves were trained to do from a young age, and Elrond was quite adept at using his mind to fight off intruders into it.

            Gandalf's touch suddenly vanished, and Elrond managed to shake off his physical paralysis to glare at the Maia.  However, Gandalf was just staring in awe at Elrond, who found it a most unsettling thing to have a Maia gazing at him as though he was a Vala.

            "Elrond, my old friend," the wizard began.  "I can see the burden this Vision has placed on you.  I know you are fighting a battle with a deep, almost Fading depression.  But know this: I know of none who has been linked directly mind-to-mind with Námo, outside the Valar and the Maiar, who has come through intact.  And while your mind currently feels and appears raw and bleeding and dizzy with shock, you have survived such a Touch, and will have gained much strength from it, by the time your mind is healed."

            The old wizard gripped Elrond's arm tightly, confidence in his eyes.  "Have faith in your strength, Peredhel, for you possess more of it than you realize."

            Elrond nodded, feeling uncommonly hesitant.  Had it really been such a big thing to be touched by the Vala?  Certainly he had never done it before, and it had hurt enough that he doubted he could do it again, but surely he was not the first!  All the firsts had surely been taken long before he was born, late in the First Age.

            Galadriel smiled at him from over Gandalf's shoulder.  "I suppose that explains why I have been so unable to read you today.  If some of the Vala's energy lingers still in you, then there would be no way for me to look into your mind."

            Elrond was surprised to realize that he was not upset that Galadriel had been trying to get into his head the whole time.  Actually, he thought, if he had had the power to do so, he might have been looking right back.

            Galadriel blew out a wistful sigh.  "Still, I wish I had been able to see some of your vision.  The Mirror shows me nothing, and I would at least know a little of the danger I must abandon my husband to."  Her eyes were full of sorrow and worry, and Elrond found he could only guess what it must be like for her to be leaving Celeborn after all this time, especially knowing now that the End was upon them.  But he did understand why she would not even think of not going to Valinor.  If Elrond had been just a little older and more tired of the world, he would not have reconsidered, even having experienced the Vision.

            Elrond stepped past the silently thinking Maia to touch his mother-by-law's arm.  He swallowed, not sure he really wanted to make this offer, but forced the words from his mouth.  "If you wish, I will try to show you what I can."

            Galadriel hesitated, then shook her head.  "I will not ask it of you.  I know you are hurt still, if Gandalf's words bear any resemblance to the truth.  Besides, I am bowing out of the affairs of this world.  I imagine that I will hear all I need to know of the End once I am in the Blessed Realm."

            Elrond nodded his acceptance of her answer, feeling relief lift his spirits more than anything had in days.  Galadriel smiled at him, then turned to exit their secluded patch of garden.  "I must now speak with Celeborn.  He should know of this, and soon."  She turned away and moved on soundless feet out of the garden.

            Gandalf, drew himself upright.  "I have some matters to attend to also, Elrond."  He placed a hand on Elrond's upper arm, eyes ablaze with some powerful emotion.  "Have faith, Peredhel, and take heart.  Elves and Men have always helped others, and I doubt that Eru would have made such a universal compulsion if it were not meant to be followed.  Nothing that has been done and nothing that has happened has done so without a purpose.  Believe that, and raise your spirits.  You are of no use to anybody as a depressed shadow of yourself."

            Elrond nodded and drew himself up.  "I shall try," he said seriously.  "Even if I fear the power to lift this gloom is beyond me."  Gandalf smiled slightly, then vanished into the trees as silently as any Elf, leaving Elrond alone.  The Half-Elf sighed and ran a hand through the loose part of his hair, straightening his robes with the other.

            Now he faced the greatest challenge of all: figuring out how he was going to tell his household.  Telling the armies would be much easier, and he had far longer to prepare for it, two to three months, in fact.  But telling his sons, Glorfindel, and Erestor what he had been keeping from them would be a painful task.

*

                A few notes: Yes, my Elrond does respect (and fear) Galadriel.  Who wouldn't?  Those fics that depict her as evil, or Elrond as hating her annoy me, so don't expect to find that here.

                All the blah-by-law things are basically blah-in-laws.  It just sounds cooler and more proper as 'by-law.'  (Far be it from anyone to be improper before Galadriel!  Poor Erestor is giving himself back problems with all his bowing.  Good thing he lives with a healer of such skill as Elrond!)

                The cast for this fic will be expanding, even as a few characters start dropping out in the next few parts.

                Comments and questions are taken gratefully!  Feel free to post (or email) anything you wish to (within reason)!  Beware, though.  It actually snowed here in Arizona, and I'm a lizard who doesn't appreciate the cold, so flames will be laughed at and used as kindling in my fireplace!

                Bye bye!

                —Akuma no Tsubasa