They broke into a run. Through the sound of his heavy breathing, Elrond heard the dull droning of drums. Then a fainter sound... The fall of feet and the metallic clank of armor. A shudder ran through him... So, it was true! He could not believe it!
Elladan met them at the gate. Even his dark eyes were wide. "Dark Elves.... Father!..."
"No time!" Shouted Elrond. "Call up my guard! Where is Glorfindel?" He spun around, his composure suddenly leaving him. "What is happening?!"
Someone took his arm. "A calm head... 'A warrior's mind must be strong indeed; it is the stuff of kings.'" It was Haldir. Elrond stared at him and he sighed, letting go of his arm. "It is a procession, not an army... Go see for yourself." He stepped aside so Elrond could slip by him.
Elrond climbed the stairs to the top of the wall. A thin line of moving black figures stretched through the trees and back where they poured over the hills. Black banners decorated with alien symbols flapped in the wind, adding another note to the drum rolls that rose up and met him. The beaks of the birds all around the place grew quiet; the trees quaked with fear at the noise of the soldiers' march.
For that is what they were: soldiers. Their armor was black as their garments and shone almost a deep blue in the sun. Dark hair, braided, was collected and tied at their backs. Elrond watched, with a growing sense of doom, the spears that struck out boldly against the sky.
There was a shout and the column came to a halt before the gate of the city. Another command sent them into a double line formation, and they moved to the sides of the road leading into Rivendell, so that they lined it. Between these two rows rode four Dark Elves mounted on the backs of four black steeds. It was obvious that the two that rode ahead were old: they were lean and muscular, with skin of a deep coppery color. Both had black hair braided at their shoulders, but the second's was streaked with white. Half of his head was shaved bare. They looked terribly exotic, sitting atop their horses studying Imladris' gate with slitted eyes.
"Elrond Peredhil!"
Despite the heavy foreign accent, the Lord of Imladris recognized his own name. Anger gripped him. He scrambled down from his perch on the wall.
"Where are you going?!" Called Legolas worriedly after him. But Elrond did not hear. He grabbed the bolt to the great wooden gate doors and flung it up in a fury.
Elladan sprung forward. "Ada, no!"
He shoved the doors open and stepped out into the open to stand before the riders in black and their army.
"Ergtellai, atuay aarn üth ë nadain!*" The horseman with silver streaks said.
Elrond blinked, uncomprehending. "Where are Erestor and Glorfindel?" His voice was deep and determined, cold and piercing as nails. He glared at the Dark Elves from beneath his bushy brows.
The rider looked taken aback. He said something in a Dwarven tongue that Elrond recognized but did not understand, then he sighed. "I...come... bearing letter... from Elrond Peredhil." Elrond blinked at the tentative attempts at speaking the Common Tongue as the Dark Elf held up a wrinkled envelope that was very familiar.
"This is he." Haldir came up beside Elrond and indicated the Lord of Imladris with a graceful wave of his arm.
"Where are Glorfindel and Erestor?" He demanded again of them.
"You're...? Messenger? Messenger! He comes... Unharmed return." The creature smiled then, flashing remarkably white teeth. "Forgive us, use of... this language... not common, not much used oftentimes." He dismounted, as did his companion beside him. Bowing low at Elrond's feet, he spoke with his head down. "I am Teregith. This... my brother... Gilithtor." He also bowed, but he did not lower his eyes; they shined darkly at Elrond. That gaze made the hairs on the lord's neck rise.
"We came from Mithilgor... City of Dark Elves." Teregith rose. "To attend... Gathering. An honor!" He moved toward Elrond with arm extended, but Elrond did not move to take his hand.
"Glorfindel and Erestor. Consider us enemies if I do not see them straight away."
"Uh... Messenger! Messenger!" Teregith turned to face his army. In a stout voice that rang off the walls and buildings of Rivendell, he commanded them in his same foreign tongue. His soldiers moved to obey. From somewhere among the ranks appeared another dark horse, led by a sage in dark robes. Seated in the saddle, bound and gagged, were Glorfindel and Erestor. The latter was also blindfolded. Glorfindel was not, however, and he struggled against his bonds when he caught sight of Elrond.
"What's this?" Lord Elrond hissed in answer. "You'll release them at once!" His hand, which rested on the hilt of his sword, now drew it as he stepped forward with a threatening glare.
Metal clanked together; Elves moved and froze. Gilithtor had his sword drawn... or what looked more like a scimitar. But he found himself in check by an arrow at his throat; at the other end was Haldir, his eyes narrowed. The air was thick with tension; the scene was a powder keg waiting to be set off by a careless spark.
"Gith, tek'it tellor!** My... this starts not well, does it!" Teregith motioned with his arm towards the captives. "Release!" They were surrounded by Dark Elves who pulled them off their mount and slit the ropes that bound them. To the shock of all the Elves gathered on the wall of the city, these ropes turned to serpents as they hit the ground: a bad omen. But the Dark Elves did not seem to notice.
"Now... Begin again? I am Teregith of Mithilgor. Come to attend Gathering... An honor!" Teregith said again in his heavily accented Common Tongue. Once more, he bowed.
Now was the moment of decision... Should he acknowledge them or no? The scene grew old in a long moment of awkward silence. Time seemed to have frozen. Sunrays poured, golden and merciless, down on them. Elrond's eyes followed the line of Dark Elven soldiers. They stood motionless at attention. But the sweat collecting on their foreheads could not be concealed; nor could the dust that clung to their legs up to their knees from the long march. His keen eyes detected the swaying of one of the young flag boys with the heat and exhaustion of the day. He looked upon the leader of this force and couldn't help but to notice the soulful honesty that was held in his dark eyes.
The creak of Haldir's bow as he tightened his grip brought Elrond back. Slowly, silently, the Lord of Imladris resheathed his sword. He had decided.
"Welcome to Rivendell, brothers Teregith and Gilithtor."
------------------____________--------------------___________------------------
Chibi Legolas: Woo!
Dark Elven Translations:
* "Greetings! We friendship bear and goodwill!"
** "Halt, your weapons lower!"
(Remember, this language was created/developed by me and is in no way affiliated with Tolkien and his languages. I plead artistic license!)
^_^
Elladan met them at the gate. Even his dark eyes were wide. "Dark Elves.... Father!..."
"No time!" Shouted Elrond. "Call up my guard! Where is Glorfindel?" He spun around, his composure suddenly leaving him. "What is happening?!"
Someone took his arm. "A calm head... 'A warrior's mind must be strong indeed; it is the stuff of kings.'" It was Haldir. Elrond stared at him and he sighed, letting go of his arm. "It is a procession, not an army... Go see for yourself." He stepped aside so Elrond could slip by him.
Elrond climbed the stairs to the top of the wall. A thin line of moving black figures stretched through the trees and back where they poured over the hills. Black banners decorated with alien symbols flapped in the wind, adding another note to the drum rolls that rose up and met him. The beaks of the birds all around the place grew quiet; the trees quaked with fear at the noise of the soldiers' march.
For that is what they were: soldiers. Their armor was black as their garments and shone almost a deep blue in the sun. Dark hair, braided, was collected and tied at their backs. Elrond watched, with a growing sense of doom, the spears that struck out boldly against the sky.
There was a shout and the column came to a halt before the gate of the city. Another command sent them into a double line formation, and they moved to the sides of the road leading into Rivendell, so that they lined it. Between these two rows rode four Dark Elves mounted on the backs of four black steeds. It was obvious that the two that rode ahead were old: they were lean and muscular, with skin of a deep coppery color. Both had black hair braided at their shoulders, but the second's was streaked with white. Half of his head was shaved bare. They looked terribly exotic, sitting atop their horses studying Imladris' gate with slitted eyes.
"Elrond Peredhil!"
Despite the heavy foreign accent, the Lord of Imladris recognized his own name. Anger gripped him. He scrambled down from his perch on the wall.
"Where are you going?!" Called Legolas worriedly after him. But Elrond did not hear. He grabbed the bolt to the great wooden gate doors and flung it up in a fury.
Elladan sprung forward. "Ada, no!"
He shoved the doors open and stepped out into the open to stand before the riders in black and their army.
"Ergtellai, atuay aarn üth ë nadain!*" The horseman with silver streaks said.
Elrond blinked, uncomprehending. "Where are Erestor and Glorfindel?" His voice was deep and determined, cold and piercing as nails. He glared at the Dark Elves from beneath his bushy brows.
The rider looked taken aback. He said something in a Dwarven tongue that Elrond recognized but did not understand, then he sighed. "I...come... bearing letter... from Elrond Peredhil." Elrond blinked at the tentative attempts at speaking the Common Tongue as the Dark Elf held up a wrinkled envelope that was very familiar.
"This is he." Haldir came up beside Elrond and indicated the Lord of Imladris with a graceful wave of his arm.
"Where are Glorfindel and Erestor?" He demanded again of them.
"You're...? Messenger? Messenger! He comes... Unharmed return." The creature smiled then, flashing remarkably white teeth. "Forgive us, use of... this language... not common, not much used oftentimes." He dismounted, as did his companion beside him. Bowing low at Elrond's feet, he spoke with his head down. "I am Teregith. This... my brother... Gilithtor." He also bowed, but he did not lower his eyes; they shined darkly at Elrond. That gaze made the hairs on the lord's neck rise.
"We came from Mithilgor... City of Dark Elves." Teregith rose. "To attend... Gathering. An honor!" He moved toward Elrond with arm extended, but Elrond did not move to take his hand.
"Glorfindel and Erestor. Consider us enemies if I do not see them straight away."
"Uh... Messenger! Messenger!" Teregith turned to face his army. In a stout voice that rang off the walls and buildings of Rivendell, he commanded them in his same foreign tongue. His soldiers moved to obey. From somewhere among the ranks appeared another dark horse, led by a sage in dark robes. Seated in the saddle, bound and gagged, were Glorfindel and Erestor. The latter was also blindfolded. Glorfindel was not, however, and he struggled against his bonds when he caught sight of Elrond.
"What's this?" Lord Elrond hissed in answer. "You'll release them at once!" His hand, which rested on the hilt of his sword, now drew it as he stepped forward with a threatening glare.
Metal clanked together; Elves moved and froze. Gilithtor had his sword drawn... or what looked more like a scimitar. But he found himself in check by an arrow at his throat; at the other end was Haldir, his eyes narrowed. The air was thick with tension; the scene was a powder keg waiting to be set off by a careless spark.
"Gith, tek'it tellor!** My... this starts not well, does it!" Teregith motioned with his arm towards the captives. "Release!" They were surrounded by Dark Elves who pulled them off their mount and slit the ropes that bound them. To the shock of all the Elves gathered on the wall of the city, these ropes turned to serpents as they hit the ground: a bad omen. But the Dark Elves did not seem to notice.
"Now... Begin again? I am Teregith of Mithilgor. Come to attend Gathering... An honor!" Teregith said again in his heavily accented Common Tongue. Once more, he bowed.
Now was the moment of decision... Should he acknowledge them or no? The scene grew old in a long moment of awkward silence. Time seemed to have frozen. Sunrays poured, golden and merciless, down on them. Elrond's eyes followed the line of Dark Elven soldiers. They stood motionless at attention. But the sweat collecting on their foreheads could not be concealed; nor could the dust that clung to their legs up to their knees from the long march. His keen eyes detected the swaying of one of the young flag boys with the heat and exhaustion of the day. He looked upon the leader of this force and couldn't help but to notice the soulful honesty that was held in his dark eyes.
The creak of Haldir's bow as he tightened his grip brought Elrond back. Slowly, silently, the Lord of Imladris resheathed his sword. He had decided.
"Welcome to Rivendell, brothers Teregith and Gilithtor."
------------------____________--------------------___________------------------
Chibi Legolas: Woo!
Dark Elven Translations:
* "Greetings! We friendship bear and goodwill!"
** "Halt, your weapons lower!"
(Remember, this language was created/developed by me and is in no way affiliated with Tolkien and his languages. I plead artistic license!)
^_^