The Soldier and the Princess
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings does not belong to me. JRR Tolkien has that happy pleasure. Had that happy pleasure. Anyway, the characters in this story do not belong to me. This is purely to please myself and those besides me who enjoy this sort of thing. I also do not own the song "Enchantment Passing Through." That honor goes to Elton John and Tim Rice.
Author's Notes: This is an Elrond/Celebrian get-together, mainly from Elrond's point of view. If there are any complaints as to how this is done, ::coughcough, Elrond's relationship to Gil-Galad coughcough:: register them politely. Please. I got some slightly less-than-polite comments on my Galadriel/Celeborn fic, which is discontinued. As far as I know, this is an A/U. Enjoy!
Special Note: The death scene at the end of this chapter is slightly cliché. I don't care. Let it be cliché.
Chapter 3: War
Nothing of interest happened for the next three years.
And then came war.
It was later known as the First War of the Ring. The name of the war doesn't matter. All that matters is the great price we paid. And it was a very great price. So many lives gone, so many hopes, dreams, families shattered.I will never forget the horrors of war.
For me, the war began with Gil-Galad coming into my chamber. I had been reading-something I don't do very often-and I heard my cousin's footsteps. I glanced up.
He was dressed as a soldier.
Bear in mind that Gil-Galad is no soldier. He isn't really a general, either. He does not believe that war is a place for one such as him. And it isn't.
"Cousin.?" I asked. "What is going on?"
"Prepare to leave. King Elendil of Gondor has asked Father for his assistance. Father is putting me in command of our armies, with you as my second. We ride for the Plains of Mordor early tomorrow," my cousin informed me in a dead sort of voice.
I nodded. "I will be ready, cousin."
* * *
We traveled to the Plains of Mordor by way of Rohan. We met Elendil and his soldiers on a hill that would later be called 'Weathertop.'
"We are honored to see you, Lord Gil-Galad," Elendil said, bowing respectfully. "Your help here is greatly needed."
"So we have heard, Lord Elendil," Gil-Galad answered, also bowing respectfully. "We are ready and willing to assist in casting down the shadow that has been growing in Mordor."
* * *
After nearly two months of travel, we reached the plains that would later be known as the Dead Marshes-and with good reason. Many, many died during the two days we fought there. Among the dead were King Elendil, and my cousin, Gil-Galad.
My cousin died the first day.
I still remember the way he died. I still have nightmares about it. He had been completely surrounded by orcs. His bow lay six or seven feet away-thus, he was deprived of an elf's main weapon. He was using his shortsword. I winced inwardly. He did not know how to use the shortsword. I charged into the orcs, intent on liberating my cousin. I got to him, but I was too late. He was already mortally wounded.
There are only three ways an elf can die: by warmagic, in childbirth, and by such wanton physical destruction as being run through by a sword, spear, or arrow. (Actually, elves can die if they're hacked in the back of the head with an axe. That works, too.)
Gil-Galad had been run through.
In addition to being a soldier, I am also a healer. Up until this point, I had never used my healing magic. There was no need. Because of this, I was almost entirely untrained. Had I been better trained, I probably could have saved my cousin's life.
"Elrond." he managed to gasp out somehow. "Your healing.magic cannot.cannot help me now."
I shook my head and continued to try.
"Elrond.you must.let me die.you must.survive.you must.continue.despite what.happens to me."
I shook my head again and pumped even more healing magic into my cousin. His bloodstained hand gripped my wrist, stopping me from finishing the job. "Gil-Galad." I whispered, unconsciously calling him by his given name.a name I had not called him since we were children.
"Elrond.take.my ring..You must.finish this. You.are in.command.now."
Despite all of my efforts, my cousin died in my arms moments later. Shaking with fury and tears, I gently removed the ring from his finger. I placed it upon my own. Orcs came up behind me. I drew my own sword and prepared to meet them. They would desecrate my cousin's body over my own.
"If you want him, come and claim him."
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings does not belong to me. JRR Tolkien has that happy pleasure. Had that happy pleasure. Anyway, the characters in this story do not belong to me. This is purely to please myself and those besides me who enjoy this sort of thing. I also do not own the song "Enchantment Passing Through." That honor goes to Elton John and Tim Rice.
Author's Notes: This is an Elrond/Celebrian get-together, mainly from Elrond's point of view. If there are any complaints as to how this is done, ::coughcough, Elrond's relationship to Gil-Galad coughcough:: register them politely. Please. I got some slightly less-than-polite comments on my Galadriel/Celeborn fic, which is discontinued. As far as I know, this is an A/U. Enjoy!
Special Note: The death scene at the end of this chapter is slightly cliché. I don't care. Let it be cliché.
Chapter 3: War
Nothing of interest happened for the next three years.
And then came war.
It was later known as the First War of the Ring. The name of the war doesn't matter. All that matters is the great price we paid. And it was a very great price. So many lives gone, so many hopes, dreams, families shattered.I will never forget the horrors of war.
For me, the war began with Gil-Galad coming into my chamber. I had been reading-something I don't do very often-and I heard my cousin's footsteps. I glanced up.
He was dressed as a soldier.
Bear in mind that Gil-Galad is no soldier. He isn't really a general, either. He does not believe that war is a place for one such as him. And it isn't.
"Cousin.?" I asked. "What is going on?"
"Prepare to leave. King Elendil of Gondor has asked Father for his assistance. Father is putting me in command of our armies, with you as my second. We ride for the Plains of Mordor early tomorrow," my cousin informed me in a dead sort of voice.
I nodded. "I will be ready, cousin."
* * *
We traveled to the Plains of Mordor by way of Rohan. We met Elendil and his soldiers on a hill that would later be called 'Weathertop.'
"We are honored to see you, Lord Gil-Galad," Elendil said, bowing respectfully. "Your help here is greatly needed."
"So we have heard, Lord Elendil," Gil-Galad answered, also bowing respectfully. "We are ready and willing to assist in casting down the shadow that has been growing in Mordor."
* * *
After nearly two months of travel, we reached the plains that would later be known as the Dead Marshes-and with good reason. Many, many died during the two days we fought there. Among the dead were King Elendil, and my cousin, Gil-Galad.
My cousin died the first day.
I still remember the way he died. I still have nightmares about it. He had been completely surrounded by orcs. His bow lay six or seven feet away-thus, he was deprived of an elf's main weapon. He was using his shortsword. I winced inwardly. He did not know how to use the shortsword. I charged into the orcs, intent on liberating my cousin. I got to him, but I was too late. He was already mortally wounded.
There are only three ways an elf can die: by warmagic, in childbirth, and by such wanton physical destruction as being run through by a sword, spear, or arrow. (Actually, elves can die if they're hacked in the back of the head with an axe. That works, too.)
Gil-Galad had been run through.
In addition to being a soldier, I am also a healer. Up until this point, I had never used my healing magic. There was no need. Because of this, I was almost entirely untrained. Had I been better trained, I probably could have saved my cousin's life.
"Elrond." he managed to gasp out somehow. "Your healing.magic cannot.cannot help me now."
I shook my head and continued to try.
"Elrond.you must.let me die.you must.survive.you must.continue.despite what.happens to me."
I shook my head again and pumped even more healing magic into my cousin. His bloodstained hand gripped my wrist, stopping me from finishing the job. "Gil-Galad." I whispered, unconsciously calling him by his given name.a name I had not called him since we were children.
"Elrond.take.my ring..You must.finish this. You.are in.command.now."
Despite all of my efforts, my cousin died in my arms moments later. Shaking with fury and tears, I gently removed the ring from his finger. I placed it upon my own. Orcs came up behind me. I drew my own sword and prepared to meet them. They would desecrate my cousin's body over my own.
"If you want him, come and claim him."