Title: Fateful Night
Author: Squirrelchaser (squirrelchaser12@yahoo.com)
Warnings: Erm…no slash, orc violence, nothing very graphic
Summary: a version of Celebrían's capture and her journey to Valinor
Disclaimer: These are Tolkien's characters, setting, Middle Earth…etc. Not mine.
***A token acorn and a big thank you to Ryder, who beta read this piece and improved it a lot***
Fateful Night
It all started out innocently enough. I remember that fateful night…that fateful, beautiful night of cool darkness that held heated terror under the bright stars.
"Amar," Arwen had complained as she settled at my feet and propped her chin on my knee. "Long have you spoken of the beauty of the woods of Lorien, and I am tired of hearing of it through song and story. Will you not take me there and show me yourself?"
I had smiled at her request and asked her brothers if they would like to accompany us, but they had been to Lorien several times and were not interested in making the journey this time.
I had been wanting to visit Amar in the Galadhrim for it had been many, many centuries since she had seen Arwen and she had grown up fully and come of age in that time. So I sent word to Amar. Then I had insisted even when she had told me: "Wait, wait until the winter has passed and come in the spring." I had then objected because I had wanted to show Arwen the Malorn trees in their autumn splendor.
I had insisted even when Elrond had bid me to wait. I remember that we were in the sitting room of our chambers; I was in a patch of sunlight that made me blink and squint a little but the sun felt so warm and soothing I had not wanted to move. Elrond sat across from me, out of the warmth.
"Something does not feel right." he had frowned slightly as he mused. "Besides, what is your rush?"
"I am not sure," I had replied. "I miss Lorien. It has been a long time since I have seen my childhood home and my friends from before we were married." I had reached out and squeezed his hand and Elrond had sighed. I could tell he had been arguing with himself, but did not seem to want to tell me what about.
"Very well," he had relented. "Perhaps I am being over protective."
Though when the procession stood at the gate and we bid each other farewell he warned me again.
First he had gone to Arwen, brushing her cheek and kissing her on the forehead before bidding her good bye. Then he had come to where I sat astride Elishen, not looking at me as he stroked the warm golden flank. His eyes were far away and unreadable for several long moments before he said softly, "I think you should do as your Amar bids you and wait until the spring. You can always stay until the following autumn."
Foolishly I had laughed. "But we are ready to go now." I said, kissed him goodbye, and we had departed.
I should have listened and trusted his foresight.
I remember that night.
The sun was disappearing over the peaks of the mountains as we entered the narrow Redhorn pass. The summer breeze breathed upon our procession fluttering skirts and banners, carrying voices of song back over the way we came to where the horses were being led in the back of the procession. The path was narrow and a little dusty but that had not deterred us from dismounting and continuing our journey on foot.
I reveled happily in the beauty of the falling dusk, glowing at the thought of how Lorien looks in the night time.
"Something does not feel sound." Arwen shuddered from where she walks to my right.
Shaking my head I smile sidelong at my daughter who is dark-haired, grey-eyed and so much like her Adar in more than physical appearance.
"Perhaps it is just the evening chill," offers Finliwë from my left side. She is my dear friend and companion of Imladris of many years, having been the first to embrace my arrival after my marriage.
My daughter shakes her head. "No…that is not it."
We have almost reached the end of the Pass when I start to feel it too; there is danger in the air, blowing on the wind with an ominous hint of death. I turn to look at the horses that walk in the back and decide that Arwen is right; they are tossing their heads and whinnying, eyes rolling to the whites. Yet they faithfully do not leave their masters.
At the horses' reaction alarm ripples through the party and we quicken our pace.
Suddenly the air seems tense to a snapping point and my heart pumps blood faster through my veins, creating a rushing in my ears. Instinctively I move closer to Arwen for danger is near and I must protect her from I do not know what.
The few armed elves with us have arrows notched to their bowstrings and they move ahead prepared, alert…
We have almost reached the end of the Pass…
Arrows sing from bows, sinking deep into the first few targets as dark, alarming figures spring into the path ahead of us.
"Orcs!"
And the cry continues, ringing useless into the night.
Grabbing Arwen by the arm I thrust her toward the back to where horses and an escape lie. "Go!" I scream, my own voice sounding shrill and thin through the summer evening air.
Something flies by us, whistling by my ear and burying its self in the ground ahead.
I push Arwen a little harder, passing the small dart tipped with grotesque feathers of who knows what? There is another small whistle and a stinging shock in the back of my shoulder but that is the least of my concerns…"Arwen, GO!" Why is she hesitating? I push her forward and she nearly stumbled. Before she regains her balance I seize her about the waist and heave her onto Elishen's back. "Go! Ride for Imladris!" I call, as much to the horse as my daughter.
"Amar!" Arwen hesitates but Elishen does not, springing forward just as I am grabbed from behind.
I struggle half heartedly, not taking my eyes off Arwen's dark head growing smaller and smaller into the distance down the narrow mountain path, cringing as some orc arrows fly perilously close. None of them hit their mark as she rounds the bend and out of sight.
My daughter is safe.
A cold, dirty, clammy hand is pressed over my mouth and I resist but am pulled off my feet as the detestable creature with surprising strength and nimbleness leaps away through the rock. I am being pulled past the bodies of my slain companions, their lifeless eyes wide in shock or perhaps pain…and now their souls are flying to the Halls of Mandos and my heart aches so terribly I cannot even weep.
But my daughter is safe.
Useless struggling, muffled screams…there are three - though I cannot see who - of us being pulled away from the safe familiarity of the Pass, one path that I have traveled many times in safety on a journey that until now seemed harmless and benign.
The fine dust from an unfamiliar path kicks up into my eyes from the churning feet of these foul beings but I am starting not to care. My world is growing hazy and the pain in my shoulder is but a dull ache. Am I upside down, slung over a shoulder like a sack? Or is it a drug creeping through my veins that is fooling my sense, making what is real seem imaginary and making fantasy come alive?
Yes, that is it.
It is only a dream. When I wake up tomorrow I will be in Imladris and this time I will stay when Elrond bids me to.
Yes, that is it…
It is only a dream for this
cannot be happening,
I tell myself as consciousness
slips
through
my
fingers.
~*~
Hoofs beat a rhythmic sound of urgency on packed dirt as Arwen flew through the Gates of Imladris. "Adar!" Throwing herself to the ground she tore into the house, tears of fear and panic tracing their way down her cheeks. "Adar! Elladan! Someone!" Arwen cried, turning herself in a circle and finally seeing Elrond and Glorfindel rushing out of his study.
"What are you doing-"
Swiping angrily at her damp face with the back of her hand Arwen interrupted, "They have Amar! They took her! Orcs…we were ambushed…" her voice crack off into a choking sob.
Glorfindel ran for the door and Asfaloth.
"Are you hurt? Tell me exactly where this happened." Elrond said calmly but worry and fear lit in the back of his eyes.
"I am unhurt but many were slain or taken and Amar pushed me onto Elishen and bid me to fly and I left her!" Arwen wailed in a rush and covered her face with her hands.
Elrond paused in his rapid preparation, striding forward and putting his arms around his weeping daughter. "No Arwen, love. You did as your Amar bid you which is the best thing for her and yourself. Now, you must tell me, where was the party ambushed?"
With a gulp the young elf replied, "Orcs. At the very end of Redhorn Pass."
The elf lord turned a shade paler with his lips narrowing briefly in fear but he hugged his daughter quickly and made for the stable.
"No, Adar,"
Elrond was overtaken by his two sons, with Elladan stopping him scarcely outside the main door. "We shall go with Glorfindel. You must stay for you are a healer,"
Elrond opened his mouth to put his son in his place, and was cut off..
"There will be the injured as well as the dead. Please Adar, we are wasting time as we argue," Elrohir added. "Let us go for had we gone in the first place this event might not have occurred. Stay and prepare for return, for much help will be needed for the injured. Stay with Arwen."