Hi everybody!
Here´s the next chapter - the end is near, but it is not upon us yet!
Thanks again to San for her wonderful editing and to Mor.
Once again, a big "thank you" for all the reviews ((hugs))!!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. Still not mine
A river´s fury
The world calmed and sank into breathless silence around Elrond and Glorfindel. Vilya´s light, its last resources spent, faded away with the remains of the storm. Sand and pebbles rained down on them, the small impacts to the ground the only sounds to break the numbing nothing that encompassed them. Elrond turned slowly, his features flooded with pain and defeat. "I have failed", he whispered, his words barely audible even for Glorfindel´s ears, "and my son will pay for my weakness as the first in a long row of victims." His eyes took in the twins who lay motionless a few paces off, and silver tears began to fall as the mighty elven lord bowed his head to the pain.
A hand found his shoulder and remained there. No words were spoken. Slowly, nature reawakened around the two still elven lords. A gentle breeze rose, caressing them softly, and the torn ground seemed to shiver in sympathy. The trees nearby, badly wounded by the shattering grip of the whirlwind, raised their voices in a low song. The clouds slowed their frantic flight now that the danger had passed and allowed the moon's light to filter through them, sliver rays chasing away the worst of the darkness and further opening the clouds´ grey blanket. The stars sighed their eternal comfort onto their battered children, humming the song of life.
Elrond breathed in deeply, opening his mind to the warm support that was offered. The despair that had filled him earlier slowly abated, making room for the flicker of hope that always remained in his soul. The spark took flight and light was rekindled, no matter how weak it might be. With a sigh, the elf looked up to find Glorfindel gazing at him with determination in his eyes. "Estel dartha" [Hope remains] the Balrog slayer said, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "im iston a le istach." [I know and you know (too)].
Before Elrond you affirm his friend's quiet suggestion, a low moan could be heard. Turning their heads, the older elves saw Elrohir moving, pain embedded in his fair features. Immediately, the strong arms that had lain limply around him tightened in comfort. "Estel dartha", Elrond repeated, gracing Glorfindel with a grateful smile before both rushed to the twins´ side.
.........................................................................
Tempting. So tempting.
The vampire hesitated at the sight of its prize that stood still, awaiting death. Its black mind raced furiously as its hunger battled an innate fear it was not even able to place. There was nothing here that could challenge its power, no foe whose might could have slaughtered it, yet it shared its minions´ reluctance to close in for the kill.
The fell being hissed in annoyance. It could feel the gathered shadow that formed its body groan and ache under the onslaught of the wind it created itself, threatening to be torn asunder when the mind's concentration slipped. The elf had been right. Time was running thin. Dark eyes turned to the fair creature again, searching the lithe body as if expecting to find hidden weapons, but there was nothing. Despite the injuries, the eternal life's pulse raced through the slender frame, beckoning the vampire to attack, to destroy, to possess. Sweet temptation.
The elf´s face was calm. He had closed his eyes, willingly robbing himself of one of his superior senses. There was a hint of submission on his features as if he had finally accepted what fate had long ago decided. It was time to fulfil their purpose, merging good and evil until the light died under the wave of darkness; and a new elf was born. One who would make Sauron´s twisted creations look like harmless rats - ugly and ready to bite but no match for immortal beauty coupled with a powerful mind that sought nothing more than to please its master. In this form, the vampire would finally be able to take its rightful place that it had been denied to long ago.
The huge black wings slid back, gathering strength for the kill, and then swung forward in a violent thrust that brought the demon upon its victim in the fraction of a thought, screeching hungrily.
.......................................................................
Legolas of Gondolin stood perfectly still. He could feel the vampire's doubts raging close, so close. Careful not to let his control slip, he allowed the young prince within more room, the young one's will to sacrifice himself for his mortal friend reaching his fair face. Beside them, the Bruinen murmured in the confines of its bed.
A sigh travelled through the air, audible even above the din of the storm. The ancient elf tensed, knowing the sound, and his eyes snapped open to see darkness sweep down on him with crushing force. It was accompanied by a shattering screech that the dark form seemed to sail on, pushed forwards by its violence. As swiftly as the vampire struck, though, the river rose.
Above them, the clouds suddenly ripped open and the moon shot its silver rays onto the scene, merging with the raging waters to form a silver fist. Dormant as the river had seemed mere heartbeats ago, it now burst into furious life as a wave shot forth from its depth, reaching out for the demon. The scream of hunger changed to one of fury when the Bruinen´s grip tightened around the shadowy torso and pulled. More water heaved, collecting, rising and pooling to form a swirl that hissed of death and destruction. With a final wail, the vampire was ripped from its lofty height into watery darkness.
Yet it did not go alone. Its taloned claws, angrily slicing the air, had connected with the elf's warm flesh and dug in mercilessly. Legolas gasped, two souls flooded by cold pain that numbed them. The world disappeared into a whirlwind of torment when the river's anger swept the fair being into the depth along with his captor, the water's surface closing above him while he was dragged deeper and deeper until even the moon's light waned and nothing was left but darkness.
..................................................................
With the flash of pain, the older presence within him seemed to rear and then fade, washed away by the fear and darkness around him. Legolas felt himself hurled back into control with sickening speed, his body's aches once again hitting him with full impact. Yet, something else awakened within him, too, and it dulled the physical torment that was now a mere distraction. He needed to live. He needed to fight.
Glancing about, Legolas realized that the swirling blackness around him was not brought forth by the river's depth. Rather, he could make out a withering body in front of him, dark wings beating slowly within the water's grip. He was swirled around with the flailing shape's thrashing movements; the force of the convulsions pressing him against the river's halting masses. Concentrating on the ghostly display, he saw slivery fingers entwined in the darkness, gripping the tattered edges and tearing at them. Shards of cloudy black were torn loose and swept away into the rushing waters. A scream vibrated all around him, filling him with its fury.
The river's hands did not only reach out for the demon, though. Legolas could feel them travelling over his body, too, their touch strangely tender and searching. Dully and beginning to feel the lack of air, the wounded elf followed their tracks and realized the reason for his tie to the demon. One of its claws had gripped the side of his chest, burying itself into him. The sight of the darkness merging with him set free a wave of panic and he struggled wildly, his hands trying in vain to take hold of the fleeting darkness that held him.
The Bruinen´s silver fingers, however, slowly ate themselves through the black talons. Legolas could feel the river's soothing touch brush his temples and he could sense himself lifted, along with the demon's still writhing and slowly melting form, bringing them closer to the surface. Looking up, the elf could see light glittering above him. The moon's gentle rays danced upon the water's surface as if asking him to come and join its game.
But it was the stars that beckoned him the most. Their song, so long ignored in his fear of losing himself to another trap, now drew him closer. His vision began to swim and he shook his head lightly, only to remember that it was the lack of air that affected him. Trying to keep perfectly still, Legolas locked his gaze onto the living world above and waited. A huge hand began to press down upon him, darkening everything around. The vampire seemed to grow distant and only the light mattered. How he longed to feel it on his skin again. How he wished the trees would whisper to him. How he dreamed of the smell of a forest's rich floor.
Feeling himself relax, Legolas was suddenly free. The water pushed at him, trying to lift him higher, and he knew he should help now, swim, but his body seemed to have forgotten how to move. The calm that claimed him turned to a heavy coat, dragging him deeper again in the whirl of the vampire's fight, no matter how the waters tried to keep him out of harm's way.
Suddenly, there were hands on him. Not the Bruinen´s distant touch, but firm hands that locked themselves under his armpits and pulled him up, bringing him closer to the light. His consciousness sharpening once more, Legolas distinguished Calen´s face in front of him, shimmering in the water, blue eyes fixed on his in an imploring stare that begged him to stay, yet this last effort had erased his strength and the darkness came swiftly now, swallowing him whole.
.........................................................................
The vampire screeched, but the sound was ripped from it by the same force that ate at its core. The demon whirled and struck out, but it met only the water's walls that gently opened to its lashes only to close around it again, the grip seemingly soft but unrelenting. Its great wings beat furiously, desperate to gather air beneath them and lift the fading body into the stormy heights were it belonged, but their force was slowed by the substance around them. Instead of lifting it, their blows turned the vampire around in frantic circles.
An army of teeth buried itself into the darkness that created the vampire´s shell. Weakened as it was by Vilya´s light, the black clouds could not withstand that onslaught and slowly melted away, only to be gripped by the current and scattered within the river's stony bed. The demon thrashed madly, but its fury was well matched by the Bruinen. The water hissed and gurgled madly, singing of lives lost, souls threatened and peace shattered. Far too late the vampire realized that the valley of Imladris had not one powerful guardian but two, both deeply rooted with the place that offered a home to their souls, both possessing a gentleness of heart that drove them into a relentless defence whenever this home was shattered.
Awareness gripped the demon's mind that he could not win this battle. The last time the accursed elf had lured him into nature's angry embrace; it had been Caradhras´s dark soul that had saved him. Buried in the icy depth of a mountain lake that had robbed him of his body, Caradhras had fed him, then guided him back into the world when the time had been right to seek it again and reawaken into the gathering darkness. No such help awaited here. The Bruinen´s light burned to bright it sizzled off the soul it had bared, scorching it beyond repair.
Yet, there was still one way. It would not be as the demon had imagined it to be, its power eaten by the watery beast that had swallowed it, but it would not be lost to the world. It would remain and grow and seek revenge on those who had thought they had bested it. Forcing its attention away from the torture wrought upon it at the river's hands, the vampire focused on its prey.
A great cry of fury tore from the fell creature when it realized that the Bruinen would not even grant him this escape. So occupied it had been with its painful thoughts, it had not felt the river cutting lose the bonds that had held the young elf who was now floating in the swirling waters before the demon. Not all was lost, though. There was still time.
With a feral growl the vampire decided to abandon its body, leaving it behind for the waters to devour. It forced its neck to stretch, straining beyond a form that it would be able to hold for long, and allowed its long teeth to shoot from its fanglike snout. The waters around it heaved in anger, pressing against the vampire with brutal force and straining against its eyes, dousing their dark fire. Almost blinded but furious with the urge to survive, the demon pressed on.
A swirl of hair suddenly encompassed the vampire's head, and it dimly caught sight of blond strands floating past. Without hesitation, the great fangs buried themselves into its victim, tearing out the elf's life in one swift flick of the melting neck. It discarded the gentle soul, flinging it away with disregard for the precious gift it had been. The Bruinen cried out in fury, and its force joined with another. Stormy grey eyes seemed to flash beneath the curling waters and together the forces crushed in on the vampire from all sides at once, shattering its cloudy body. But it was too late. Too late.
...................................................................
The hooves beat the ground in a frantic rhythm that mirrored Elrond´s racing heartbeat. At his side, Glorfindel leaned forward on his panting steed to whisper words of encouragement into the flicking ears. Above them, the heavens now shone down on them, finally cleared off the clouds that had melted away like a bad dream, allowing nature to breathe again.
Elrond´s thoughts briefly flew back to his twin sons whom he had left behind, their lives no longer in the balance, praying that no new danger would arise to threaten their still fragile hold on the world. It had torn his heart to leave them. Elrohir was wounded so badly it had taken him considerable effort to stem the blood from flowing. Elladan appeared numbed and shocked by what he had brought upon his beloved brother, shaken beyond even his father´s comfort to reach. Only his twin's tentative smile when he had briefly awoken had secured Elladan´s soul and given him something to hold on to.
Glorfindel´s gentle voice reached him over the sound of their wild ride. "They will protect each other, mellon-nin. They will be safe." Elrond turned to see a knowing smile on his friend's face, one he had seen before. He had often wondered whether the Balrog Slayer possessed a gift of foresight all his own, but all Glorfindel would admit to were strong feelings, an unfaltering believe in his instincts that would not lead him astray. It was enough for Elrond and his smiled back in gratitude. His own heart told him the twins were safe, yet his father's worry clouded the clarity of his heart's voice. He was grateful for his friend's confirmation.
Suddenly, a new voice made itself known in Elrond´s mind, and he tensed, pulling his horse to a harsh stop. Surprised, Glorfindel swung around to join him, but Elrond barely noticed his friend. His mind was filled with the hissing voice of the Bruinen. It held little of its usual melodious beauty, instead pouring forth all of its latent power, flooding the elf's soul. Groaning, Elrond held his head and swayed, dimly aware of hands catching him, and then he felt the river rise as it had seldom done in the past.
Crushing waves come down upon darkness, tearing at it. Elrond felt the river's anger wreck through his frame in rippling tremors. He sensed the demon rearing and flailing, felt its despair that slowly changed into resolve. There was light mingled with the melting darkness that thrashed in the Bruinen´s waters, bringing forth white foam. A light that the demon reached out for.
Elrond tensed even more, his muscles growing rigid when he felt the river's despair mount. Using all that was left within him, the elf lord pushed his spirit away from his body. For a dizzying moment he soared, cut loose from all that there was, before the river's steady calls pulled him close. Merging with the waters, he saw a black shape before him strike out and the light grow dim. His own anger joined the rivers, and together they brought down a crushing blow that shattered what had been for years beyond count.
.............................................................................
Slowly, awareness returned. Elrond found himself lying on the ground. He blinked tiredly, his mind too spent to swiftly tell him what it was his eyes looked at. Finally, Glorfindel´s face came into focus, and it wore an expression of intense relief.
"It is gone", the Balrog Slayer said quietly, "the woods breathe in relief and the trees sing. Our battle has not been in vain."
It took Elrond time to gather the strength to answer, but when he did, sadness rang through his voice. "Aye", he agreed, eyes travelling to the stars, "but I fear our victory has not come without a price."
TBC
Author´s note: I have always been fascinated by Tolkien´s suggestion that even nature takes sides in the eternal battle between Good and Evil. You may recall that in the book no "spell" of any kind is required to make the Bruinen take out the Black Riders. In this chapter I simply tried my own version of the river´s "soul".
Review responses:
Cosmic Castaway: Hi!! Now, aren´t we a tiny bit impatient here?! LOL, rest assured that I will continue (and finish) every story that I´ll ever start.
Ford: Hi to you, too ;-) ! You are very welcome, I´m happy your are enjoying this tale.
Estel Elven Enchantress: Thank you!! Glad you thought the battle was believable. :)
Star Fire: O wow, my turn to blush again (blushes furiously). Thank you so much!! I´m so happy that I have touched you with this story, and I sure hope this update comes quickly enough to save your life, lol. I hope you´ll enjoy the other stories, too.
Moralinde: Sorry for the absence of Aragorn in this chapter (he´s still around, don´t worry), he´ll certainly play a bigger part again next chapter. I´m glad you liked the "double Legolas".
Tychen: LOL, I wanted to say that last time, I loved that "drop and stop" line, I´ll remember that one!! (As a non-native speaker of English, I´m always glad to get such treats!) And Glorfindel may still get his chance to call in favours ;-)
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thank you :)
Silvertoekee: Yes, I sure put them all through a lot this time - just cannot help it! I hope this chapter´s cliffie was not all that evil - oh well...
Mornflower: Took a bit longer this time, sorry :) It was not that your puppy eyes did not work, but sometimes a chapter needs to grow a bit before it allows me to write it - thanks for the pleas, though, they certainly served to kick my Muse to work faster.
Lorderita: Forgot to add this information last time: yes, San is indeed the same as Aragornwriter (BTW, go read her stories, people, you´ll love them) and I´m telling you, she was not thrilled with Aragorn´s absence in this chapter, lol
THANK YOU!! Please keep the reviews coming!!
Here´s the next chapter - the end is near, but it is not upon us yet!
Thanks again to San for her wonderful editing and to Mor.
Once again, a big "thank you" for all the reviews ((hugs))!!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. Still not mine
A river´s fury
The world calmed and sank into breathless silence around Elrond and Glorfindel. Vilya´s light, its last resources spent, faded away with the remains of the storm. Sand and pebbles rained down on them, the small impacts to the ground the only sounds to break the numbing nothing that encompassed them. Elrond turned slowly, his features flooded with pain and defeat. "I have failed", he whispered, his words barely audible even for Glorfindel´s ears, "and my son will pay for my weakness as the first in a long row of victims." His eyes took in the twins who lay motionless a few paces off, and silver tears began to fall as the mighty elven lord bowed his head to the pain.
A hand found his shoulder and remained there. No words were spoken. Slowly, nature reawakened around the two still elven lords. A gentle breeze rose, caressing them softly, and the torn ground seemed to shiver in sympathy. The trees nearby, badly wounded by the shattering grip of the whirlwind, raised their voices in a low song. The clouds slowed their frantic flight now that the danger had passed and allowed the moon's light to filter through them, sliver rays chasing away the worst of the darkness and further opening the clouds´ grey blanket. The stars sighed their eternal comfort onto their battered children, humming the song of life.
Elrond breathed in deeply, opening his mind to the warm support that was offered. The despair that had filled him earlier slowly abated, making room for the flicker of hope that always remained in his soul. The spark took flight and light was rekindled, no matter how weak it might be. With a sigh, the elf looked up to find Glorfindel gazing at him with determination in his eyes. "Estel dartha" [Hope remains] the Balrog slayer said, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "im iston a le istach." [I know and you know (too)].
Before Elrond you affirm his friend's quiet suggestion, a low moan could be heard. Turning their heads, the older elves saw Elrohir moving, pain embedded in his fair features. Immediately, the strong arms that had lain limply around him tightened in comfort. "Estel dartha", Elrond repeated, gracing Glorfindel with a grateful smile before both rushed to the twins´ side.
.........................................................................
Tempting. So tempting.
The vampire hesitated at the sight of its prize that stood still, awaiting death. Its black mind raced furiously as its hunger battled an innate fear it was not even able to place. There was nothing here that could challenge its power, no foe whose might could have slaughtered it, yet it shared its minions´ reluctance to close in for the kill.
The fell being hissed in annoyance. It could feel the gathered shadow that formed its body groan and ache under the onslaught of the wind it created itself, threatening to be torn asunder when the mind's concentration slipped. The elf had been right. Time was running thin. Dark eyes turned to the fair creature again, searching the lithe body as if expecting to find hidden weapons, but there was nothing. Despite the injuries, the eternal life's pulse raced through the slender frame, beckoning the vampire to attack, to destroy, to possess. Sweet temptation.
The elf´s face was calm. He had closed his eyes, willingly robbing himself of one of his superior senses. There was a hint of submission on his features as if he had finally accepted what fate had long ago decided. It was time to fulfil their purpose, merging good and evil until the light died under the wave of darkness; and a new elf was born. One who would make Sauron´s twisted creations look like harmless rats - ugly and ready to bite but no match for immortal beauty coupled with a powerful mind that sought nothing more than to please its master. In this form, the vampire would finally be able to take its rightful place that it had been denied to long ago.
The huge black wings slid back, gathering strength for the kill, and then swung forward in a violent thrust that brought the demon upon its victim in the fraction of a thought, screeching hungrily.
.......................................................................
Legolas of Gondolin stood perfectly still. He could feel the vampire's doubts raging close, so close. Careful not to let his control slip, he allowed the young prince within more room, the young one's will to sacrifice himself for his mortal friend reaching his fair face. Beside them, the Bruinen murmured in the confines of its bed.
A sigh travelled through the air, audible even above the din of the storm. The ancient elf tensed, knowing the sound, and his eyes snapped open to see darkness sweep down on him with crushing force. It was accompanied by a shattering screech that the dark form seemed to sail on, pushed forwards by its violence. As swiftly as the vampire struck, though, the river rose.
Above them, the clouds suddenly ripped open and the moon shot its silver rays onto the scene, merging with the raging waters to form a silver fist. Dormant as the river had seemed mere heartbeats ago, it now burst into furious life as a wave shot forth from its depth, reaching out for the demon. The scream of hunger changed to one of fury when the Bruinen´s grip tightened around the shadowy torso and pulled. More water heaved, collecting, rising and pooling to form a swirl that hissed of death and destruction. With a final wail, the vampire was ripped from its lofty height into watery darkness.
Yet it did not go alone. Its taloned claws, angrily slicing the air, had connected with the elf's warm flesh and dug in mercilessly. Legolas gasped, two souls flooded by cold pain that numbed them. The world disappeared into a whirlwind of torment when the river's anger swept the fair being into the depth along with his captor, the water's surface closing above him while he was dragged deeper and deeper until even the moon's light waned and nothing was left but darkness.
..................................................................
With the flash of pain, the older presence within him seemed to rear and then fade, washed away by the fear and darkness around him. Legolas felt himself hurled back into control with sickening speed, his body's aches once again hitting him with full impact. Yet, something else awakened within him, too, and it dulled the physical torment that was now a mere distraction. He needed to live. He needed to fight.
Glancing about, Legolas realized that the swirling blackness around him was not brought forth by the river's depth. Rather, he could make out a withering body in front of him, dark wings beating slowly within the water's grip. He was swirled around with the flailing shape's thrashing movements; the force of the convulsions pressing him against the river's halting masses. Concentrating on the ghostly display, he saw slivery fingers entwined in the darkness, gripping the tattered edges and tearing at them. Shards of cloudy black were torn loose and swept away into the rushing waters. A scream vibrated all around him, filling him with its fury.
The river's hands did not only reach out for the demon, though. Legolas could feel them travelling over his body, too, their touch strangely tender and searching. Dully and beginning to feel the lack of air, the wounded elf followed their tracks and realized the reason for his tie to the demon. One of its claws had gripped the side of his chest, burying itself into him. The sight of the darkness merging with him set free a wave of panic and he struggled wildly, his hands trying in vain to take hold of the fleeting darkness that held him.
The Bruinen´s silver fingers, however, slowly ate themselves through the black talons. Legolas could feel the river's soothing touch brush his temples and he could sense himself lifted, along with the demon's still writhing and slowly melting form, bringing them closer to the surface. Looking up, the elf could see light glittering above him. The moon's gentle rays danced upon the water's surface as if asking him to come and join its game.
But it was the stars that beckoned him the most. Their song, so long ignored in his fear of losing himself to another trap, now drew him closer. His vision began to swim and he shook his head lightly, only to remember that it was the lack of air that affected him. Trying to keep perfectly still, Legolas locked his gaze onto the living world above and waited. A huge hand began to press down upon him, darkening everything around. The vampire seemed to grow distant and only the light mattered. How he longed to feel it on his skin again. How he wished the trees would whisper to him. How he dreamed of the smell of a forest's rich floor.
Feeling himself relax, Legolas was suddenly free. The water pushed at him, trying to lift him higher, and he knew he should help now, swim, but his body seemed to have forgotten how to move. The calm that claimed him turned to a heavy coat, dragging him deeper again in the whirl of the vampire's fight, no matter how the waters tried to keep him out of harm's way.
Suddenly, there were hands on him. Not the Bruinen´s distant touch, but firm hands that locked themselves under his armpits and pulled him up, bringing him closer to the light. His consciousness sharpening once more, Legolas distinguished Calen´s face in front of him, shimmering in the water, blue eyes fixed on his in an imploring stare that begged him to stay, yet this last effort had erased his strength and the darkness came swiftly now, swallowing him whole.
.........................................................................
The vampire screeched, but the sound was ripped from it by the same force that ate at its core. The demon whirled and struck out, but it met only the water's walls that gently opened to its lashes only to close around it again, the grip seemingly soft but unrelenting. Its great wings beat furiously, desperate to gather air beneath them and lift the fading body into the stormy heights were it belonged, but their force was slowed by the substance around them. Instead of lifting it, their blows turned the vampire around in frantic circles.
An army of teeth buried itself into the darkness that created the vampire´s shell. Weakened as it was by Vilya´s light, the black clouds could not withstand that onslaught and slowly melted away, only to be gripped by the current and scattered within the river's stony bed. The demon thrashed madly, but its fury was well matched by the Bruinen. The water hissed and gurgled madly, singing of lives lost, souls threatened and peace shattered. Far too late the vampire realized that the valley of Imladris had not one powerful guardian but two, both deeply rooted with the place that offered a home to their souls, both possessing a gentleness of heart that drove them into a relentless defence whenever this home was shattered.
Awareness gripped the demon's mind that he could not win this battle. The last time the accursed elf had lured him into nature's angry embrace; it had been Caradhras´s dark soul that had saved him. Buried in the icy depth of a mountain lake that had robbed him of his body, Caradhras had fed him, then guided him back into the world when the time had been right to seek it again and reawaken into the gathering darkness. No such help awaited here. The Bruinen´s light burned to bright it sizzled off the soul it had bared, scorching it beyond repair.
Yet, there was still one way. It would not be as the demon had imagined it to be, its power eaten by the watery beast that had swallowed it, but it would not be lost to the world. It would remain and grow and seek revenge on those who had thought they had bested it. Forcing its attention away from the torture wrought upon it at the river's hands, the vampire focused on its prey.
A great cry of fury tore from the fell creature when it realized that the Bruinen would not even grant him this escape. So occupied it had been with its painful thoughts, it had not felt the river cutting lose the bonds that had held the young elf who was now floating in the swirling waters before the demon. Not all was lost, though. There was still time.
With a feral growl the vampire decided to abandon its body, leaving it behind for the waters to devour. It forced its neck to stretch, straining beyond a form that it would be able to hold for long, and allowed its long teeth to shoot from its fanglike snout. The waters around it heaved in anger, pressing against the vampire with brutal force and straining against its eyes, dousing their dark fire. Almost blinded but furious with the urge to survive, the demon pressed on.
A swirl of hair suddenly encompassed the vampire's head, and it dimly caught sight of blond strands floating past. Without hesitation, the great fangs buried themselves into its victim, tearing out the elf's life in one swift flick of the melting neck. It discarded the gentle soul, flinging it away with disregard for the precious gift it had been. The Bruinen cried out in fury, and its force joined with another. Stormy grey eyes seemed to flash beneath the curling waters and together the forces crushed in on the vampire from all sides at once, shattering its cloudy body. But it was too late. Too late.
...................................................................
The hooves beat the ground in a frantic rhythm that mirrored Elrond´s racing heartbeat. At his side, Glorfindel leaned forward on his panting steed to whisper words of encouragement into the flicking ears. Above them, the heavens now shone down on them, finally cleared off the clouds that had melted away like a bad dream, allowing nature to breathe again.
Elrond´s thoughts briefly flew back to his twin sons whom he had left behind, their lives no longer in the balance, praying that no new danger would arise to threaten their still fragile hold on the world. It had torn his heart to leave them. Elrohir was wounded so badly it had taken him considerable effort to stem the blood from flowing. Elladan appeared numbed and shocked by what he had brought upon his beloved brother, shaken beyond even his father´s comfort to reach. Only his twin's tentative smile when he had briefly awoken had secured Elladan´s soul and given him something to hold on to.
Glorfindel´s gentle voice reached him over the sound of their wild ride. "They will protect each other, mellon-nin. They will be safe." Elrond turned to see a knowing smile on his friend's face, one he had seen before. He had often wondered whether the Balrog Slayer possessed a gift of foresight all his own, but all Glorfindel would admit to were strong feelings, an unfaltering believe in his instincts that would not lead him astray. It was enough for Elrond and his smiled back in gratitude. His own heart told him the twins were safe, yet his father's worry clouded the clarity of his heart's voice. He was grateful for his friend's confirmation.
Suddenly, a new voice made itself known in Elrond´s mind, and he tensed, pulling his horse to a harsh stop. Surprised, Glorfindel swung around to join him, but Elrond barely noticed his friend. His mind was filled with the hissing voice of the Bruinen. It held little of its usual melodious beauty, instead pouring forth all of its latent power, flooding the elf's soul. Groaning, Elrond held his head and swayed, dimly aware of hands catching him, and then he felt the river rise as it had seldom done in the past.
Crushing waves come down upon darkness, tearing at it. Elrond felt the river's anger wreck through his frame in rippling tremors. He sensed the demon rearing and flailing, felt its despair that slowly changed into resolve. There was light mingled with the melting darkness that thrashed in the Bruinen´s waters, bringing forth white foam. A light that the demon reached out for.
Elrond tensed even more, his muscles growing rigid when he felt the river's despair mount. Using all that was left within him, the elf lord pushed his spirit away from his body. For a dizzying moment he soared, cut loose from all that there was, before the river's steady calls pulled him close. Merging with the waters, he saw a black shape before him strike out and the light grow dim. His own anger joined the rivers, and together they brought down a crushing blow that shattered what had been for years beyond count.
.............................................................................
Slowly, awareness returned. Elrond found himself lying on the ground. He blinked tiredly, his mind too spent to swiftly tell him what it was his eyes looked at. Finally, Glorfindel´s face came into focus, and it wore an expression of intense relief.
"It is gone", the Balrog Slayer said quietly, "the woods breathe in relief and the trees sing. Our battle has not been in vain."
It took Elrond time to gather the strength to answer, but when he did, sadness rang through his voice. "Aye", he agreed, eyes travelling to the stars, "but I fear our victory has not come without a price."
TBC
Author´s note: I have always been fascinated by Tolkien´s suggestion that even nature takes sides in the eternal battle between Good and Evil. You may recall that in the book no "spell" of any kind is required to make the Bruinen take out the Black Riders. In this chapter I simply tried my own version of the river´s "soul".
Review responses:
Cosmic Castaway: Hi!! Now, aren´t we a tiny bit impatient here?! LOL, rest assured that I will continue (and finish) every story that I´ll ever start.
Ford: Hi to you, too ;-) ! You are very welcome, I´m happy your are enjoying this tale.
Estel Elven Enchantress: Thank you!! Glad you thought the battle was believable. :)
Star Fire: O wow, my turn to blush again (blushes furiously). Thank you so much!! I´m so happy that I have touched you with this story, and I sure hope this update comes quickly enough to save your life, lol. I hope you´ll enjoy the other stories, too.
Moralinde: Sorry for the absence of Aragorn in this chapter (he´s still around, don´t worry), he´ll certainly play a bigger part again next chapter. I´m glad you liked the "double Legolas".
Tychen: LOL, I wanted to say that last time, I loved that "drop and stop" line, I´ll remember that one!! (As a non-native speaker of English, I´m always glad to get such treats!) And Glorfindel may still get his chance to call in favours ;-)
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thank you :)
Silvertoekee: Yes, I sure put them all through a lot this time - just cannot help it! I hope this chapter´s cliffie was not all that evil - oh well...
Mornflower: Took a bit longer this time, sorry :) It was not that your puppy eyes did not work, but sometimes a chapter needs to grow a bit before it allows me to write it - thanks for the pleas, though, they certainly served to kick my Muse to work faster.
Lorderita: Forgot to add this information last time: yes, San is indeed the same as Aragornwriter (BTW, go read her stories, people, you´ll love them) and I´m telling you, she was not thrilled with Aragorn´s absence in this chapter, lol
THANK YOU!! Please keep the reviews coming!!