/His soul is within my grasp, even now he falls as you did,/ Gothmog crowed, causing Ecthelion to shudder under his dark triumph.
/Far from it, for Glorfindel's heart still burns strong, and I still remain to guard him,/ Ecthelion denied, his hand going to his sword.
/So you say, child of the Fountain. Yet my darkness is slowly destroying even his heart, and his light steadily fades,/ Gothmog said, pointing to the Elf in question, who was evermore sinking to the ground, his emerald eyes near black in despair.
Ecthelion looked, and despair filled his heart, for before him stood Glorfindel, his light nearly out as darkness came forth to devour him. That despair turned quickly to anger as he sensed what caused such darkness to come forth. It was not the past that haunted Glorfindel, but the spirit in front of him. Rage filled his being as he turned eyes filled with icy fire to the demon.
/You have caused his suffering; you are forcing him to fade! For no reason then to satisfy your foul revenge!/ Ecthelion thundered, the thought of his friend's late night surrenders to heart breaking despair whispering through his mind, and the knowledge of who was responsible burned like fire.
/So I have, in repayment,/ the demon sneered, and a smirk wove around his black lips.
/He did nothing to aid or hinder you or I! I alone should pay the price,/ Ecthelion snapped, and then stepped forward to aid his friend and soul brother.
Only to find Gothmog's foul darkness blocking his access to his brother's soul. Turning hard, sharp eyes to the demon, Ecthelion snarled, only to be met with Gothmog's smug sneer.
/You have a choice, my slayer, between the life of your kin, and your soul brother, both of great value to you and Arda. Which will you choose, the child or the reborn?/ Gothmog asked, his face twisting into a horrid look of glee.
Rage exploded in the normally calm tempered Elf Lord, /You have no right to make me choose between them, foul beast of Morgoth! And I shall not choose, for their lives are not mine, and my punishment should not be theirs! Not even Manwe himself could force me to choose!/
/Ah, but I do have the right to force this choice upon you, for the golden one's life hangs in my hands, and your kindred cannot defend himself against me, and the poison that even now rots his blood. It will be a shame to destroy either of them, for both would make wondrous hosts, but they are both too pure for me to posses, even in death. Now choose,/ Gothmog said, his eyes burning with the black fires of his revenge.
/He will not, for no one will choose for or against the life of my son, and my friend,/ another voice entered the fray, and the two spirits turned to Thranduil, who stood glaring coldly in their direction, though he could not see them, yet hear them by some trait passed to him when he had destroyed Gothmog's formerly possessed body, /I will not allow it. Will you not take some other way, besides taking their lives?/
Gothmog looked in surprise at the Elven King, then his black eyes shone at another prospect. It would mean relinquishing his right to kill the child, for a brief while, and his power on the golden one would wane for a brief bit, but for such a thing....
/I can think of one thing I would take,/ Gothmog sent coldly, gleefully.
Ecthelion shuddered nearby, feeling what his adversary wished for, and powerless to stop what would come.
Thranduil could sense the demon's desire as well, and his heart grew cold as he accepted it, for he could not let this demon steal his child's life, nor that of his long time, if distant at times, friend. They both were needed, yet his part in history had been played, and he would not be of great lose.
Glancing over his son's pale, yet peaceful features, he gently squeezed his son's tiny hand in his, and let go. Elrond glanced at him curiously, yet Thranduil ignored him, his sharp gaze riveted to the wrathful spirit.
/My body is yours, if you swear to never to come near my son again,/ he sent, his eyes hard and cold at the thought of what he offered, yet his love swirled in his heart, making him sure of his decision.
Gothmog smiled, approaching the brave King, /Agreed,/ he sent, then touched Thranduil's chest, beginning to force the current soul from the body, and force his within.
Suddenly Legolas opened his eyes wide in terror as he felt a piece of his soul grow cold. Glancing sharply at his Adar, a sound of horror escaped his lips and he sat up, his body trembling in exhaustion. Elrond did not restrain him, his own senses assaulted with the cold suddenly rolling from Thranduil's rigid frame, and his eyes sought the sightless, yet horror filled eyes of the Elven King.
Outside the doorway, Ecthelion quickly went over what he could do to prevent this, yet found nothing, for the Elven King had given his body freely, in replacement for his son's life. Glancing to Glorfindel, he noticed in slight worry that his friend's eyes were turned inward, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
/It is all right, Ecthelion, I am aware, I am only looking for a way to fight Gothmog,/ his best friend's voice rang within him, and he smiled slightly against the crushing weight of guilt and horror at what was happening.
Suddenly he felt a golden essence touch his own silvery one, and he looked into the eyes of his brother.
/You didn't,/ he thought to the other, glancing at the seemingly discarded body laying on the floor beside the door, whose wide green eyes stared at nothing, while its owner looked at him in stressed amusement.
/It is the only way. With our combined strength, we should be able to send the best back to Morgoth, or where ever those of his dark soul go,/ Glorfindel sent.
/Can you return, mellon nin?/ Ecthelion sent worriedly, again glancing at the seemingly discarded body.
/If Manwe wishes. But come, we are wasting time,/ Glorfindel said, and held forth his golden ethereal hand.
Ecthelion took it without hesitation, and their souls merged as they had during their stay in Mandos, becoming two pieces of the same whole, in a bond that was rivaled only by that of two pairs of twins in the history of Arda.*
/Lets get him,/ Glorfindel said, and they went forth as one.
The remaining black essence of Gothmog that resided outside the slowly becoming possessed body turned to them, and fear shimmered from him.
/That's right, foul demon, fear before the Lords of Gondolin, and fear the wrath of a father protecting his child, even though he is only by marriage, he is still of my house, and none shall take him, nor his child,/ Ecthelion sent.
Gothmog shirked away from their power, but his voice came to them, shaking slightly but remaining mostly calm.
/I took down the Spirit of fire**, I can take the souls of two lesser beings as well,/ Gothmog sent.
/You had help then, and the Spirit of fire consumed himself. Prepare to enter the void, Morgoth's spawn,/ Glorfindel sent, then the two leapt forward upon the other, their different swords shimmering and blending like the light of the trees of old.
Together they forced the demon from his captive body, and he would have fled before their rage, for he knew them to be Valar blessed, and he could not fight them in his weakened form. But another soul held him fast from escaping, and laughed at his torment.
/Truly did you think you could posses one of Oropher's linage? My father was stubborn against even the King of the Noldor, and his son is just as stubborn. May you rot in what torments wait you,/ Thranduil's voice echoed through spiritual plain, and his green gold shade of spirit held the struggling demon in grips that rivaled any metal hold in Arda.
The two coming spirits, smiled at him, surprised at how strong the other against the full darkness of Gothmog. Then they charged the struggling demon, and rammed their spirit swords into him, sending his soul into the void, though it is not said whether he would remain with his wicked Master, or return to Arda to wreak his vengeance once more.
Thranduil relaxed his harden stance that he had taken against the beast, and smiled at Glorfindel and Ecthelion.
/Tell me, my friend, how did you hold out for so long against Gothmog?/ Glorfindel sent.
Thranduil turned to the still frightened Legolas staring at his still body, and sighed softly as he turned back to them, urgency to return to his body and comfort his son burning within him, /The love of a father is great, and I felt Gothmog's deception. I could not leave my son to his hands, for not even Elrond could protect him once he possessed my body. So I fought, and my love won over his hatred./
Ecthelion nodded, and smiled, understanding within his own heart, for he would have done the same for his daughter.
/I am proud that you are apart of my household, Thranduil, and that I am of yours. Hurry, for your son needs you now,/ Ecthelion said, and Thranduil smiled briefly, glad that the Elven Lord understood his need.
Slipping back into his body, Thranduil took a deep breath as he took in the shock of being reclothed in his form, before turning to his son and Elrond.
"Do not stare so much, Elrond, for are you not suppose to be attending my son?" he asked, though his eyes sparkled with amusement, yet he could sense that Elrond had indeed been setting himself to protect Legolas as well by the weary tense of his fellow Elf's body, which began to relax under his slight teasing.
Stepping forward, he gently took his son's hand, and smiled, the other hand running fondly through his son's silvery gold locks, "I am well, ion nin, and he shall never trouble you again."
Legolas smiled briefly, before pulling closer to his Adar, and hugging him as tightly as his weakened limbs could. Now that Gothmog's evil presence had been extinguished, the poison in the young Elf's body was residing, but it would take time for him to heal.
Wrapping his arms gently around his son's form, he kissed his child's hair, thanking the Valar for the strength to protect him, for as long as he could. For now, he knew he would help his son to heal, and grow strong once more under both the care of Elrond, and his Father.
The two spirits smiled at this scene before exiting the room, returning to the fallen form nearby.
/It seems that Mandos calls me now that my task is done, though I do not wish to be parted from either my kin nor you after our last breakage,/ Ecthelion sighed, though true sadness would not come, for his soul felt happiness for his grand daughter's husband and son.
/Ah, but our last breakage was made in pain, and was meant to be. Now you return to the halls, because your time is nearly done. I shall be seeing you when I reach the Undying Lands soon enough,/Glorfindel said, smiling fondly as he released the other's hand, and their souls unmelded.
There was no pain this time as they parted, and Glorfindel slowly went to his body. Turning just before he touched the fallen form, he turned back, /Tell my wife to not grieve, my pain is lifting. But warn Manwe that he should protect his courts, for the Lords of Gondolin shall once again be united soon./
/So I shall tell her, and Manwe hopefully will not put forth the curse of Mandos again upon the Noldor to keep you from Aman!/ Ecthelion laughed, then he became serious, though a smile lingered in his eyes, /Take care of my kindred, and those of your charges as well./
/Of course, or else I would not have come,/ a brief smile, then Glorfindel returned to his body, and stood, fully reclothed once more as Ecthelion faded back into the halls of Mandos.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Notes:
Ecthelion took it without hesitation, and their souls merged as they had during their stay in Mandos, becoming two pieces of the same whole, in a bond that was rivaled only by that of two pairs of twins in the history of Arda.*
The twins mentioned are Elros and Elrond, as well as Elladan and Elrohir. The melding of souls is a creation of mine, and I figured it would be like to that of twins, though Ecthelion and Glorfindel are not related.
Spirit of fire** This is a reference to Feanor, for those who have not read Silmarillion. Feanor was of the greatest of Elves, and was slaughtered by Gothmog.
Thank you all for your wondrous comments! And I am sorry I can't comment on each, but time is short, and I have only just had time to write and correct this for you. As it is, this is probably the end, unless I consider a epilogue for it, but that is unlikely. Thank you for waiting through my long absences. A writer is truly blessed to have such readers as you! :)
/Far from it, for Glorfindel's heart still burns strong, and I still remain to guard him,/ Ecthelion denied, his hand going to his sword.
/So you say, child of the Fountain. Yet my darkness is slowly destroying even his heart, and his light steadily fades,/ Gothmog said, pointing to the Elf in question, who was evermore sinking to the ground, his emerald eyes near black in despair.
Ecthelion looked, and despair filled his heart, for before him stood Glorfindel, his light nearly out as darkness came forth to devour him. That despair turned quickly to anger as he sensed what caused such darkness to come forth. It was not the past that haunted Glorfindel, but the spirit in front of him. Rage filled his being as he turned eyes filled with icy fire to the demon.
/You have caused his suffering; you are forcing him to fade! For no reason then to satisfy your foul revenge!/ Ecthelion thundered, the thought of his friend's late night surrenders to heart breaking despair whispering through his mind, and the knowledge of who was responsible burned like fire.
/So I have, in repayment,/ the demon sneered, and a smirk wove around his black lips.
/He did nothing to aid or hinder you or I! I alone should pay the price,/ Ecthelion snapped, and then stepped forward to aid his friend and soul brother.
Only to find Gothmog's foul darkness blocking his access to his brother's soul. Turning hard, sharp eyes to the demon, Ecthelion snarled, only to be met with Gothmog's smug sneer.
/You have a choice, my slayer, between the life of your kin, and your soul brother, both of great value to you and Arda. Which will you choose, the child or the reborn?/ Gothmog asked, his face twisting into a horrid look of glee.
Rage exploded in the normally calm tempered Elf Lord, /You have no right to make me choose between them, foul beast of Morgoth! And I shall not choose, for their lives are not mine, and my punishment should not be theirs! Not even Manwe himself could force me to choose!/
/Ah, but I do have the right to force this choice upon you, for the golden one's life hangs in my hands, and your kindred cannot defend himself against me, and the poison that even now rots his blood. It will be a shame to destroy either of them, for both would make wondrous hosts, but they are both too pure for me to posses, even in death. Now choose,/ Gothmog said, his eyes burning with the black fires of his revenge.
/He will not, for no one will choose for or against the life of my son, and my friend,/ another voice entered the fray, and the two spirits turned to Thranduil, who stood glaring coldly in their direction, though he could not see them, yet hear them by some trait passed to him when he had destroyed Gothmog's formerly possessed body, /I will not allow it. Will you not take some other way, besides taking their lives?/
Gothmog looked in surprise at the Elven King, then his black eyes shone at another prospect. It would mean relinquishing his right to kill the child, for a brief while, and his power on the golden one would wane for a brief bit, but for such a thing....
/I can think of one thing I would take,/ Gothmog sent coldly, gleefully.
Ecthelion shuddered nearby, feeling what his adversary wished for, and powerless to stop what would come.
Thranduil could sense the demon's desire as well, and his heart grew cold as he accepted it, for he could not let this demon steal his child's life, nor that of his long time, if distant at times, friend. They both were needed, yet his part in history had been played, and he would not be of great lose.
Glancing over his son's pale, yet peaceful features, he gently squeezed his son's tiny hand in his, and let go. Elrond glanced at him curiously, yet Thranduil ignored him, his sharp gaze riveted to the wrathful spirit.
/My body is yours, if you swear to never to come near my son again,/ he sent, his eyes hard and cold at the thought of what he offered, yet his love swirled in his heart, making him sure of his decision.
Gothmog smiled, approaching the brave King, /Agreed,/ he sent, then touched Thranduil's chest, beginning to force the current soul from the body, and force his within.
Suddenly Legolas opened his eyes wide in terror as he felt a piece of his soul grow cold. Glancing sharply at his Adar, a sound of horror escaped his lips and he sat up, his body trembling in exhaustion. Elrond did not restrain him, his own senses assaulted with the cold suddenly rolling from Thranduil's rigid frame, and his eyes sought the sightless, yet horror filled eyes of the Elven King.
Outside the doorway, Ecthelion quickly went over what he could do to prevent this, yet found nothing, for the Elven King had given his body freely, in replacement for his son's life. Glancing to Glorfindel, he noticed in slight worry that his friend's eyes were turned inward, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
/It is all right, Ecthelion, I am aware, I am only looking for a way to fight Gothmog,/ his best friend's voice rang within him, and he smiled slightly against the crushing weight of guilt and horror at what was happening.
Suddenly he felt a golden essence touch his own silvery one, and he looked into the eyes of his brother.
/You didn't,/ he thought to the other, glancing at the seemingly discarded body laying on the floor beside the door, whose wide green eyes stared at nothing, while its owner looked at him in stressed amusement.
/It is the only way. With our combined strength, we should be able to send the best back to Morgoth, or where ever those of his dark soul go,/ Glorfindel sent.
/Can you return, mellon nin?/ Ecthelion sent worriedly, again glancing at the seemingly discarded body.
/If Manwe wishes. But come, we are wasting time,/ Glorfindel said, and held forth his golden ethereal hand.
Ecthelion took it without hesitation, and their souls merged as they had during their stay in Mandos, becoming two pieces of the same whole, in a bond that was rivaled only by that of two pairs of twins in the history of Arda.*
/Lets get him,/ Glorfindel said, and they went forth as one.
The remaining black essence of Gothmog that resided outside the slowly becoming possessed body turned to them, and fear shimmered from him.
/That's right, foul demon, fear before the Lords of Gondolin, and fear the wrath of a father protecting his child, even though he is only by marriage, he is still of my house, and none shall take him, nor his child,/ Ecthelion sent.
Gothmog shirked away from their power, but his voice came to them, shaking slightly but remaining mostly calm.
/I took down the Spirit of fire**, I can take the souls of two lesser beings as well,/ Gothmog sent.
/You had help then, and the Spirit of fire consumed himself. Prepare to enter the void, Morgoth's spawn,/ Glorfindel sent, then the two leapt forward upon the other, their different swords shimmering and blending like the light of the trees of old.
Together they forced the demon from his captive body, and he would have fled before their rage, for he knew them to be Valar blessed, and he could not fight them in his weakened form. But another soul held him fast from escaping, and laughed at his torment.
/Truly did you think you could posses one of Oropher's linage? My father was stubborn against even the King of the Noldor, and his son is just as stubborn. May you rot in what torments wait you,/ Thranduil's voice echoed through spiritual plain, and his green gold shade of spirit held the struggling demon in grips that rivaled any metal hold in Arda.
The two coming spirits, smiled at him, surprised at how strong the other against the full darkness of Gothmog. Then they charged the struggling demon, and rammed their spirit swords into him, sending his soul into the void, though it is not said whether he would remain with his wicked Master, or return to Arda to wreak his vengeance once more.
Thranduil relaxed his harden stance that he had taken against the beast, and smiled at Glorfindel and Ecthelion.
/Tell me, my friend, how did you hold out for so long against Gothmog?/ Glorfindel sent.
Thranduil turned to the still frightened Legolas staring at his still body, and sighed softly as he turned back to them, urgency to return to his body and comfort his son burning within him, /The love of a father is great, and I felt Gothmog's deception. I could not leave my son to his hands, for not even Elrond could protect him once he possessed my body. So I fought, and my love won over his hatred./
Ecthelion nodded, and smiled, understanding within his own heart, for he would have done the same for his daughter.
/I am proud that you are apart of my household, Thranduil, and that I am of yours. Hurry, for your son needs you now,/ Ecthelion said, and Thranduil smiled briefly, glad that the Elven Lord understood his need.
Slipping back into his body, Thranduil took a deep breath as he took in the shock of being reclothed in his form, before turning to his son and Elrond.
"Do not stare so much, Elrond, for are you not suppose to be attending my son?" he asked, though his eyes sparkled with amusement, yet he could sense that Elrond had indeed been setting himself to protect Legolas as well by the weary tense of his fellow Elf's body, which began to relax under his slight teasing.
Stepping forward, he gently took his son's hand, and smiled, the other hand running fondly through his son's silvery gold locks, "I am well, ion nin, and he shall never trouble you again."
Legolas smiled briefly, before pulling closer to his Adar, and hugging him as tightly as his weakened limbs could. Now that Gothmog's evil presence had been extinguished, the poison in the young Elf's body was residing, but it would take time for him to heal.
Wrapping his arms gently around his son's form, he kissed his child's hair, thanking the Valar for the strength to protect him, for as long as he could. For now, he knew he would help his son to heal, and grow strong once more under both the care of Elrond, and his Father.
The two spirits smiled at this scene before exiting the room, returning to the fallen form nearby.
/It seems that Mandos calls me now that my task is done, though I do not wish to be parted from either my kin nor you after our last breakage,/ Ecthelion sighed, though true sadness would not come, for his soul felt happiness for his grand daughter's husband and son.
/Ah, but our last breakage was made in pain, and was meant to be. Now you return to the halls, because your time is nearly done. I shall be seeing you when I reach the Undying Lands soon enough,/Glorfindel said, smiling fondly as he released the other's hand, and their souls unmelded.
There was no pain this time as they parted, and Glorfindel slowly went to his body. Turning just before he touched the fallen form, he turned back, /Tell my wife to not grieve, my pain is lifting. But warn Manwe that he should protect his courts, for the Lords of Gondolin shall once again be united soon./
/So I shall tell her, and Manwe hopefully will not put forth the curse of Mandos again upon the Noldor to keep you from Aman!/ Ecthelion laughed, then he became serious, though a smile lingered in his eyes, /Take care of my kindred, and those of your charges as well./
/Of course, or else I would not have come,/ a brief smile, then Glorfindel returned to his body, and stood, fully reclothed once more as Ecthelion faded back into the halls of Mandos.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Notes:
Ecthelion took it without hesitation, and their souls merged as they had during their stay in Mandos, becoming two pieces of the same whole, in a bond that was rivaled only by that of two pairs of twins in the history of Arda.*
The twins mentioned are Elros and Elrond, as well as Elladan and Elrohir. The melding of souls is a creation of mine, and I figured it would be like to that of twins, though Ecthelion and Glorfindel are not related.
Spirit of fire** This is a reference to Feanor, for those who have not read Silmarillion. Feanor was of the greatest of Elves, and was slaughtered by Gothmog.
Thank you all for your wondrous comments! And I am sorry I can't comment on each, but time is short, and I have only just had time to write and correct this for you. As it is, this is probably the end, unless I consider a epilogue for it, but that is unlikely. Thank you for waiting through my long absences. A writer is truly blessed to have such readers as you! :)