Immortal
Temptation
The sound of hooves beating the worn path towards the High Pass filled the night air. The rider was swift, knowing he could waste no time in reaching those whom he sought. Lord Elrond traveled alone despite the insistence of those of his house that had warned him of the trouble. He would have accepted the help, too, but she had warned him to take no one from Imladris with him on this task. There were few times in his life he had ever questioned the wisdom of his wife's mother, so he now made his way towards danger without aid.
Or so he thought. As he neared his goal, the Misty Mountains looming ahead of him like the darkness of a starless midnight, Elrond caught the sound of something within the woods to his left. Normally he would have dismissed it, but something caused him to stop and listen a moment. Reigning in his mount, he focused on the sounds of nature, of which there were remarkably little. Still, there was something there. He heard the echo of hooves on the forest floor heading his way.
There was only one and he found himself tense in expectation, thoughts of tragedies having happened to his sons flitting across his mind. Elrond rested a hand on his sword, supposing it was not an Orc, for they seldom could coax horses to their service, but knowing he must be cautious. He fixed the woods with a keen eye until a form began moving from the shadows into the open. Under the moonlight his pale hair was illuminated with a soft, silvery glow and the Lord of Imladris relaxed his guard. "Haldir, I had not expected to see you roaming the wilds."
The Marchwarden of Lórien grunted, riding up to his side. He nodded towards the woods. "When I saw them leave, I followed your sons and the Prince of Mirkwood. Their horses have been left in the woods. It has not been an hour yet since they have passed."
Elrond absently gazed towards the High Pass, feeling a small amount of relief that an eye had been kept on the three young princes. "They have been out of significant trouble, I trust?" When he looked back the Marchwarden nodded. He exhaled, petting his horse. "Then we should make haste that it remains that way. I would be most grateful for your continued help, Haldir."
"Of course, Lord Elrond."
Not long passed before the foot of the mountain met the hooves of their horses. There they dismounted, following the telltale signs of recent passage with their eyes. His mount was nervous, he could tell, likely sensing the touch of the shadow strongly here. He gave the horse a pet, whispering gently a command to wait for him here.
They traveled up the pass quickly, but with cautious eyes and ears, searching the rocky path for where the Elves may have turned. Their trail was easy enough to track; they must have been quite eager to carry out this foolish mission. But soon more than vision testified to their passage. Elrond felt his adrenaline rush as the sounds of fighting filtered to his ears. Haldir's abrupt intake of air confirmed what he was hearing and together they hastened on towards the battle.
The obscure opening was not far and when they saw it Elrond had a hard time not rushing in blindly. He crept beyond the threshold with scanning his surroundings, but when he heard the voice of one of his sons crying out, he abandoned caution. Following a winding slope downwards, the Lord of Rivendell drew his sword and halted at the bottom where he saw goblins fighting the three Elves he had sought.
Immediately he took action, seeing his youngest son in trouble. Elrohir had fallen on the floor, his sword lost beneath the feet of those attacking his brother, and a goblin stood poised above him ready to bring his cruel blade down and end the Elf's life. Deadly silent, Elrond stalked across the rocky surface and lifted his weapon. Before the goblin could strike Elrond crossed his blade with the creature's, then threw him back with a hard push. Beneath him Elrohir breathed, "Ada?" as a sigh of relief.
"You should not have harmed my son," the Lord of Rivendell hissed, glaring at the oncoming goblin. Not often did he fight alongside his sons, but seeing them now in danger awakened in him a feral sort of rage that had been building slowly ever since they had brought Celebrían home.
The goblin twisted its head around, glaring uncertainly, but nonetheless remaining firm. "Your son should not have come here," it retorted in a raspy growl, with dark, dirty fingers clenched hard around the hilt of its short sword. "His trespass is my gain." The beast thrust his weapon, a test blow meant to give him insight on the Elf's fighting style.
Elrond was swift and agile, but did not commit all his energy to such a meaningless strike. He had learned long ago not to allow himself to be goaded into revealing everything so early on in the fight. The goblin struck out again, this time more seriously. The true fight had now begun.
They traded several blows before the goblin caught him off guard for the smallest fraction of a second. The blade caught Elrond by the hand, slicing his tender skin, but not deep enough to make the wound serious. It was enough for the creature to take advantage of, however. He growled and kicked, taking the Elf-lord in the hip, knocking him back a few paces. From behind he heard one of his sons gasp, "Ada!" but he remained focused, undeterred and maintaining a firm on his sword.
He raised his weapon and drove forward, meeting each stroke of his foe's head on. The goblin fought well enough, but in the end no match for the Elf's superior training. On a hastily made down stroke the goblin stepped forward, his blade missing Elrond's head as he sidestepped, and the effort needed to take that step closer was all the Elf needed. He evaded the beast's sword, then darted for its wrist, jerking it off balance as he thrust forward, taking his enemy in the stomach.
The goblin groaned terribly, flailing, but Elrond did not linger to watch it happen. With one swift kick he tore his sword from the creature in time to meet another foe coming from the darkness. With a thud his blade met the rough wood of a club, digging a notch into the surface. Laughing, the new goblin reached at its side and pulled a long dagger from its belt, jabbing it towards Elrond's side. Elrond threw himself back from the attack, jerking his sword from the club and curving it down, trying to knock the dagger from his enemy's hand. The goblin laughed, pulling his weapon away.
The club swung towards his head and Elrond ducked rapidly, then thrust his sword forward, but to no avail. This one was quicker and more observant than the last. "I am going to have your blood, Elf," he hissed, his silvery eyes flitting up and down the Elf-lord's form. He sniffed the air and a chuckle rattled around in his throat. "I smell it already."
He darted his dagger this way and that, but Elrond recognized when he was being baited. The creature's club swung at what it must have assumed was an opportune moment and the Lord of Imladris dodged, prepared for the blow that would have knocked his sword out of his hand. Instead of hitting its intended mark, the heavy wood hit Elrond's cut hand, causing him to falter. Darkly the goblin laughed at his victory, fingering his blade. Straightening, steeling himself for the inevitable blow, Elrond was surprised to see his enemy waiting. When those dark eyes flitted over his shoulder he knew it was too late. Arms encircled him, one along his waist and the other across his shoulders, jerking him backwards.
"Ada!" he heard, but could not turn, nor would he have until he heard the cry that followed, then the sound he had feared ever since entering into this terrible place. The sound of someone falling. The goblin holding him through his struggles gripped his hand squeezing until he let go of his sword and it clattered to the floor. Letting out a yell of rage, Elrond kicked at the goblin in front of him as it bore down on him. It stumbled back, crouching and rubbing at a pained abdomen with a glare marring his already fearsome features.
Over him the Lord of Rivendell saw Haldir running to his aid. His silvery hair flashed and he gave voice to a forceful thrust as he ran the goblin through, then twisted his thick sword and yanked it free again. Elrond wasted no time in taking advantage of the confusion. He felt the arms of his captor loosen enough that he could draw his arm out, then slam it back into his enemy. The goblin doubled over, still holding as he could, but it was not enough. The Elf-lord tore free, then bent, sweeping his sword back into his grasp. As he turned back the goblin threw himself forward in a last effort to overtake him, but as they collapsed Elrond managed to free his own dagger. The goblin did not see it coming, clawing for him, gripping his shoulder and slamming him down against the rocky surface. Groaning, he thrust his dagger into the goblin's back near the kidney, causing it to jerk upwards suddenly and desperately.
Elrond knit his brow and shoved his foe off of him, climbing to his feet and looking down as the goblin tried to crawl away from him. Lifting his sword, he approached easily and finished the job, then turned towards his sons. Very few could tell the difference between his sons, but Elrond could make no mistake. The one that had fallen had been Elladan. Elrohir hovered by his left, kneeling. Above him stood Haldir and beside him Prince Legolas, rubbing his shoulder.
Racing towards them, the Lord of Rivendell dropped to his knees at his son's right, taking in his wounds. A blade had taken his side and blood spilled past his clothing. He was a brave, seasoned warrior, but fear gripped the heart of Elrond as he beheld Elladan's state. Pulling back the cloth, he looked at the terrible wound, preparing himself for more grief. But it was not that bad. Relief flooded him and absently, he whispered, "I can fix this. I can fix this, my son." His eyes moistened as he met the half-lidded gaze of his eldest. "You should not have come here," he breathed in a suddenly thick voice. "What more do I have to lose?"
Elladan averted his eyes, shaking his head. "Ada, I am so sorry…"
The Lord of Rivendell brushed the water from the rims of his eyes, bleeding his raw emotions into anger as he completed his son's sentence, "…but you did not know! Elladan, I…"
A hand on his shoulder stilled him. He looked up, watching as Legolas swept by towards the dark entrance to the catacombs, then turned, his eyes alight in the lust of battle. "We stand victorious, Lord Elrond, but there are more of them back there!" Elrond frowned, his expression stern as he stood up, but Legolas seemed not to notice. The prince shook his head, looking back towards the inner nest. "I know what you would say, my Lord, but I say think of what they have taken. From all of us."
Elrohir stood and approached as well, his blade still within his hand. "Legolas…"
Legolas looked down on his fallen friend with sad, hard eyes. "No. Too long have I kept my heart hidden behind a veil. I have no mother for the sake of creatures like these. They took her from me, just as they have taken Lady Celebrían. She was beaten…and…tormented," his voice broke as he shifted his eyes to the floor. "All while I watched. I was nothing more than a child! No. I have let them escape my wrath for far too long." As he glanced again at the darkened doorway, his voice lowered a tone. "I will have my vengeance. Come, Elrond and Elrohir. Have yours."
Coming to stand with him, Elrohir shook his head, touching his arm. "I had no idea."
Wiping at tears of his own, trying desperately to hide them, Legolas nodded his head. "I and my father do not speak of it." He evaded Elrohir's concerned eyes, looking straight into Elrond's with a heart broken drive to empty himself of all that he had held back, imploring the elder Elf to say that he was right, that his need for revenge could be fed without repercussions. "I watched her suffer, just as you have watched your wife suffer. Who next will fall to their sickness of their desires?"
Elrond inhaled a shaky breath, feeling the memory of watching her suffer night after night wash over him. He had heard her voice as she dreamed, moaning and crying. Saw the shadow lingering in her eyes as she tried to forget, but could not. Yes, he wanted vengeance, for himself and his sons. For this other young one that mourned the loss of his mother even millennia after her passing. Elrohir appeared only too eager to oblige the prince's wishes. They could rush in there, finish the job and then return home, having rid the world of another force of darkness.
Author: Ruse
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings isn't mine and nor is Elrond, unfortunately, nor Legolas or Aragorn. No infringement intended.
A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews!!! Means a bunch!