Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the Elves (most of them), the Maiar, and the Rings
of Power. The Romans are owned by history. I own Elenlome (Night Star),
Ninquedil (White Devotion), Tindome (Starry Twilight), Tholinsul (Wind
Helm), and Haruial (Flower of the South). Now that you've heard my general
ramblings- onwards!
Captives of Slavery.
Hot. So hot.
Sand, everywhere, all places that Elven sight could reach were covered in sand.
It was dry, too dry, and the sun was large.
There was a light touch on his arm. Celebrian was there, looking scared, so scared...Where have I seen this?
His eyes widened. They were there, in the place he had foreseen...
"How?" Celebrian breathed. "Why?"
"I do not know, mellon-nin, I do not know!"
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Vilya shone.
So did Nenya and Narya.
The Valar, in their desperation, were threading some of their power into the Elven-Rings.
Slowly, Elrond, Galadriel, and Mithrandir raised their hands to their faces and gazed at their charges,
Vilya was akin to the sea, her centre a whirl of sapphire. Narya was pure fire, glowing fiercely. Nenya was wind-driven snow, her interior so lovely that it was hard to look at her- or to look away.
The three Ringbearers were not alone.
In fact, just about every Elf from Amen was standing there- including some who had been dead when they departed Middle-Earth. High King Gil-Galed was there, looking as if a warg had popped up and politely asked him the way to Ithilien, aka, completely bemused. Celebrimbor was gazing at the sky as though he had never seen it before.
Being that the two had only been brought back to life thirty years ago, this was probably not surprising.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Lucius Markus Pecunius was leading an entire battalion of Roman troops through the desert. Of course, not all of them were soldiers. Lucius had the largest collection of slavers/warriors throughout the Empire. They ran a roaring trade.
Out of the corner of his eye, the centurion spotted a low cloud of dust. Sounding a horn, he turned his men southwards.
What he didn't know was that they had been seen long before. Elven eyes had no trouble detecting the clouds of dust half an army raises, and they were moving more slowly, and lighter, so as to raise minimal amounts of sand.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
"There are men approaching."
"The group we saw earlier?"
"Yes. They have changed their course."
"Thank you for explaining the obvious."
"Elladan, Elrohir, hush. Elenlome...what are you doing?"
The dark-haired Elf-maiden had stopped, and was looking over the plains at the approaching crowd.
"Well, I'll be darned," she muttered.
Elrohir cocked his head to one side.
"Darned?"
Everyone, even he, sometimes had trouble with Elenlome's vocabulary.
"Er...basically, um, fed to a troll, sent to the darkest corner of Mandos' Halls- metaphorically, of course."
Elrond gave her a steady look.
"Elenlome, if you must use expletives, use ones that everybody can understand. Why will you be 'darned'?"
The Elf in question squinted toward the aforementioned army.
"Romans."
Gil-Galed looked bemused.
So did everyone not in Middle-Earth around the time of the War of the Ring.
Sigh. It looked like another explanation.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
"I wasn't born on Arda. Well, I was, but it wasn't called Arda when I was a child, it was called Earth. It was way different to Middle-Earth. The language was so different to Westron it would have been unrecognisable to any of you.
"I had three sisters. Two of them were born on the same day as I- we were triplets, but not identical, and I failed to see anything unusual in either of those facts. I still do, to some degree.
"There was a series of books in our world. They chronicled the beginning of the world to the start of the Fourth Age. Everyone thought...that they were stories. Not true. Merely a fantasy of some old professor.
"We were human- the Eldar did not exist, or if they did, nobody could find them. There were no hobbits, Dwarves, or Ents, to the best of everyone's knowledge. But some did believe the tales...and there were others who did not believe them, and wrote stories based on them, which was perfectly legal, provided you said you did not own those tales. Most of said stories were vile self-insertions called Mary Sues, who disrupted family bloodlines, tore up history, and got to seduce the object of their desire by making them act totally unlike themselves.
"Which is where the Protectors of the Plot Continuum come in. They went through Middle-Earth, killing Mary Sues, usually around the time of the War of the Ring. Me and my sisters became assassins. We used our old nicknames as our official aliases. My older sister became Simaril. My older triplet was Vilya. My younger triplet was Narya. I became Nenya.
"Now, in order not to disrupt the world any more, we had to disguise ourselves. But these weren't just disguises, oh no. We literally became what we had to be that mission. I mean, you could choose to be an Uruk-Hai, and you got the power, the size, the viciousness- everything. But you also retained your true mind. You didn't decide to go off and kill Elves, you went off and killed Sues that were bothering said Elves.
"I...made a mistake. I meant to disguise myself as an Elf. I didn't mean to end up four millennia before I was supposed to. I was also in a body the grand total of ten years old. Which means I was staggering around the land near Rivendell, only half able to walk, making up a name that actually sounded Elvish- Elenlome, night star.
"I grew up twice- once in England, as Jane, or Nenya- which I preferred to Jane- and once in Imladris, as Elenlome. In a way, I had two childhoods, and I'm glad. I think the Valar knew about the PPC, and brought me to Rivendell, so that the place wouldn't break at the seams- it almost did, several times, and those were with emergency groups of assassins working overtime, plus any of Imladris' regular inhabitants who weren't out of their minds. And I could speak Westron, and Elvish, because I'd been there for so long.
"Now, at the end of the Third Age, the Fellowship of the Ring, along with the rest of the general area, began recycling through time. I assume that the rest of Arda simply slowed down so as not to alarm the rest of you. Either way, that's when all the major crisis's came into play. There were nine almost-break-ups in that period alone. There was only one other in four thousand years.
"But back to the Romans. After the Fourth Age- that's when people stopped recording the Ages. I think it was about three thousand years after the end of the Third Age, Gondor and Rohan and Harad and just about any other place you care to name had vanished, along with all the great races other than humans. I'm not saying that there aren't any other races, but they have hidden away, and don't care to come out. When they vanished, humans- forgot. Civilisations fell, origins were lost, and everything had to be learnt all over again.
"During my first childhood, I learned about the Romans. They lived over a period of about four hundred years. They conquered and ruled half the world, and a thousand years later, you could still see the ruins they had left. They could make the most beautiful pictures, using coloured tiles. And their armies were almost unstoppable.
"There. Now that you've all had a thorough grounding in where I come from and why I use words you don't know, along with a brief history of the Romans, how about we pay more attention to the group of them two miles away?"
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Elrond had only been listening to Elenlome/Nenya with one ear.
Since that, instead of being a sue, the girl was sarcastic, frequently impatient, vaguely pretty instead of being a raving beauty, bit her nails, liked raw fish, had a rather short temper, and was flawed in a dozen other ways- although she did have quite a few good points- it was easier to not pay attention.
The fact that he'd had the same explanation in Imladris helped.
The Roman contingent was approaching fast. The Eldar, seeing even several leagues away that they were well-armed and were carrying chains, began to take up a defensive position, with those who were armed moving in front of those who were not.
Elrond suddenly noticed that Tholinsul, Tindome, and Ninquedil had all moved to the front line. He wouldn't have had any reservations about this, except Ninquedil was the only one born on Middle-Earth, and, as eager as his grandchildren were when it came to warfare, none of them had seen battle.
Elrohir and Elladan quickly sidestepped between the three Elflings and the potential foe. With a quick glance at his wife to check that she was beside him, Elrohir nudged Tindome, the youngest, behind him to Haruial and Legolas, two of the few who had thought to bring bows.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
The two companies came to a halt facing each other warily. The Romans could see tat their prospective prey was well armed, and the Eldar could see that their opposition was travelling in the guise of an army, which, by pure association, indicated that they were good fighters.
The hands of the Elven archers tightened on their bowstrings.
Thranduil and Celeborn sent them sharp glances. The King of Mirkwood and the Lord of Lothlorien relaxed as they saw that none was willing to raise the bow and so maybe invite conflict.
Galadriel was considering their opponents in a different manner. Touching their minds, she tried to understand what they were thinking, and therefore probably saying. If, somehow she could use gestures that corresponded to their thoughts, she could allow others to understand what they were saying.
Strong...they...fighters...many...
The Elven-Queen frowned. They were...thinking about the Eldar. That was simple- and the obvious thing to be doing.
Young...work...healthy...slaves...
"RUN!!"
The other Elven rulers looked at her sharply, but she had already turned to move their people away.
Elrond asked her, "My lady, why...?"
"Slavery!"
Gil-Galed's mouth tightened in a grim line. Thranduil had already turned, shouting to the archers originally from Mirkwood to fire. Celeborn had barely opened his mouth when his own archers did the same.
A tight, controlled volley of arrows showered into the advancing Roman ranks. Beyond the line of Eldar warriors (or, more specifically, those Elves who had weapons), the inhabitants of Valinor were breaking away, although those who had family in the front line were waiting...
And then all of Angband broke loose.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Haruial thought she'd gone insane. There was no logic to this battle, only a mad way of attacking anyone not on her side, as Thranduil turned and called to her brother and herself, telling them that they had to come- some of them must escape, and he would not leave them leaderless, nor would he let his wife of children be taken. She knew that he truly hated, even more than slavery for any Elf, the idea that his family should suffer.
And then some of the fighters had joined her, and she and Legolas were running, and weeping, because they knew that if they were not taken then they could more effectively help those who were, but to leave their comrades screamed against the very fabric of their souls.
Ninquedil was racing along behind her, half-dragging her sister and brother, while half the Elves were with them, and the other half being hunted down or engaged in frantic battles for their freedom.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Elrond had been right. Celebrian did not have the faintest idea about how to use a javelin. As far as she was concerned, it was just something she could stab people with.
Any archer who has tried to stab an orc with an arrow can tell you exactly how well ranged weapons work when utilised as spears- very badly. A javelin is meant to be thrown, not stabbed about wildly. Her fight was hopeless from the start.
Within seconds, she found herself lying on the sand, Elladan standing over the body of the soldier who had been attempting to bind her. She scrabbled back to her feet, seized her weapon, and resumed trying to stab slavers through the chinks in their armour.
Looking briefly up at the sky with a prayer to the Valar, she was slammed down to the ground, almost unable to breath, her husband crying her name before he was swept up in battle once again.
And then the memories of when she had been taken by orcs thrust up through the mental barriers she had blocked them with for so long, and she was lost to a screaming void of filthy, jagged claws and hot, stinking breath.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Aule was furious.
Actually, he was more like completely, raving, Melkor-on-a-bad-day raging. Why was Aule in this mood? Well, first something incredibly powerful had begun battering the land. Tirion was in ruins, Valimar looked like Glaurung had attacked it with the aid of a Balrog, and Alqualonde had slipped out of Valinor altogether for a few minutes, coming back with a loud crash and lava all through the streets. Then Manwe, Ulmo, Varda, and Namo had told him that even Mandos' Halls and the edges of the seas had been shaken severely. Nienna had arrived halfway through the conversation/ "WHAT?!" –yelling-from-Varda-and-Aule, to tell them all that Vaire had seen/woven this part of the world breaking up.
And then Valinor, despite all their efforts, had begun to crack. Manwe had suggested that they should empty her. Aule, quite reasonably, had pointed out that the world beyond would be the death of the Eldar in under a week. So Manwe had proposed that they send the Elves to a different time, where they would be better able to fend for themselves. Varda had jumped in with the idea of sending the Maiar with them, which had been generally accepted. So, to Aule's grudging admission that maybe it would be safer for the Firstborn, they had emptied the land.
And then Valinor broke up into ten large chunks.
Which was why a raging Aule was storming about, trying, with the help of the other Valar, to put Valinor back together.
It didn't help that he'd just had to twist the rules and one-time powers of the Elven-Rings so that they were powerful once more and could also help the Elves.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Elrond turned, twisted, tried to see his wife, to fight free, to get to Celebrian... but the chains held fast and he could not get free. He remembered Vilya and began to whisper in the High Tongue.
Unfortunately, Vilya's powers had only just been woken, and she was visible to all. Rough hands snatched the ring from his finger, and he glanced about, hoping that Galadriel...no, she too had been taken, no doubt when trying to defend her daughter. Even Gil-Galed was there, having apparently preferred fight to fight to flight and so being caught.
There was no doubt that these 'Romans' were efficient in their work. Any bloodshed on the side of the Eldar had been minimal and all the dead were human. The only problem being that all of the slaves were not.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Celeborn hated it all.
He hated the sight of his daughter going through an ordeal she had barely survived before. He hated the way his grandsons stood there, hopeless, while he was unable to aid them. He hated the broken, torn look on Elrond's face, and he hated the way they forced the Elves, even the last High King, to get to their feet and be chained together.
And he loathed the heavy, stifling metal band that they fastened around his neck to secure him to the rest of the Eldar.
Most of all, he hated what they had done to his wife. Seeing what had happened to Celebrian, and being at the time uncaptured, she had endeavoured to protect her child. Artanis in a fighting mood was a truly formidable opponent, and she had had many years to hone her skills. After all their kin had been caught, or at least all that had not been able to flee early on, they had decided to use Galadriel as an example.
At least, that was what Celeborn had gathered.
They had not damaged her badly, since it was obvious even to the Eldar, who did not keep slaves, that she would be highly valuable. But they had still hurt her, thrusting her to the floor and kicking at her, beating her with the handles of their whips.
All through this, she had not cried out once.
The image of the Lady lying battered on the ground had shocked them into silence.
He could not even comfort her.
And that was what hurt Celeborn most of all.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
A/N: So, now we know what happened to Valinor- the place broke up! We also have Injured!Galadriel/Artanis, Hallucinating!Celebrian, Alive!Gil-Galed, and a bunch of Elves lost in Italy. Things are not looking up for our heroes. And Valinor's in bits, so no help there. Plus an introduction to Elenlome, and some minor Elf Lord angst.
Beware the Author. Muahaha.
Reviewer Responses.
Hellga: Thanks for that information. I shall change the rapier to a dirk- I think they had those in Arda. Sorry about the typo, and Tholinsul's name, I got it off a name generator- took me ages to get one that mildly makes sense. As for Ninquedil- I'll try to remember to modify it. Elrond WAS living in Tirion, he was just visiting Valimar, as after a few thousand years you have to make SOME friends in other cities. I hope that sorts it out.
Kaye Thorn: I'm glad my OCs don't seem Sue-ish, as I abhor the things. Here is another chapter, and about the writing style- I'm honoured.
Evenstar Elenor: I am SO surprised that you think I'll be an exception to the rule, and shall do my best to live up to the post you've set me. I hope you like the way I did the twins.
Zammy: You are a very faithful reviewer. Thank you.
Captives of Slavery.
Hot. So hot.
Sand, everywhere, all places that Elven sight could reach were covered in sand.
It was dry, too dry, and the sun was large.
There was a light touch on his arm. Celebrian was there, looking scared, so scared...Where have I seen this?
His eyes widened. They were there, in the place he had foreseen...
"How?" Celebrian breathed. "Why?"
"I do not know, mellon-nin, I do not know!"
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Vilya shone.
So did Nenya and Narya.
The Valar, in their desperation, were threading some of their power into the Elven-Rings.
Slowly, Elrond, Galadriel, and Mithrandir raised their hands to their faces and gazed at their charges,
Vilya was akin to the sea, her centre a whirl of sapphire. Narya was pure fire, glowing fiercely. Nenya was wind-driven snow, her interior so lovely that it was hard to look at her- or to look away.
The three Ringbearers were not alone.
In fact, just about every Elf from Amen was standing there- including some who had been dead when they departed Middle-Earth. High King Gil-Galed was there, looking as if a warg had popped up and politely asked him the way to Ithilien, aka, completely bemused. Celebrimbor was gazing at the sky as though he had never seen it before.
Being that the two had only been brought back to life thirty years ago, this was probably not surprising.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Lucius Markus Pecunius was leading an entire battalion of Roman troops through the desert. Of course, not all of them were soldiers. Lucius had the largest collection of slavers/warriors throughout the Empire. They ran a roaring trade.
Out of the corner of his eye, the centurion spotted a low cloud of dust. Sounding a horn, he turned his men southwards.
What he didn't know was that they had been seen long before. Elven eyes had no trouble detecting the clouds of dust half an army raises, and they were moving more slowly, and lighter, so as to raise minimal amounts of sand.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
"There are men approaching."
"The group we saw earlier?"
"Yes. They have changed their course."
"Thank you for explaining the obvious."
"Elladan, Elrohir, hush. Elenlome...what are you doing?"
The dark-haired Elf-maiden had stopped, and was looking over the plains at the approaching crowd.
"Well, I'll be darned," she muttered.
Elrohir cocked his head to one side.
"Darned?"
Everyone, even he, sometimes had trouble with Elenlome's vocabulary.
"Er...basically, um, fed to a troll, sent to the darkest corner of Mandos' Halls- metaphorically, of course."
Elrond gave her a steady look.
"Elenlome, if you must use expletives, use ones that everybody can understand. Why will you be 'darned'?"
The Elf in question squinted toward the aforementioned army.
"Romans."
Gil-Galed looked bemused.
So did everyone not in Middle-Earth around the time of the War of the Ring.
Sigh. It looked like another explanation.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
"I wasn't born on Arda. Well, I was, but it wasn't called Arda when I was a child, it was called Earth. It was way different to Middle-Earth. The language was so different to Westron it would have been unrecognisable to any of you.
"I had three sisters. Two of them were born on the same day as I- we were triplets, but not identical, and I failed to see anything unusual in either of those facts. I still do, to some degree.
"There was a series of books in our world. They chronicled the beginning of the world to the start of the Fourth Age. Everyone thought...that they were stories. Not true. Merely a fantasy of some old professor.
"We were human- the Eldar did not exist, or if they did, nobody could find them. There were no hobbits, Dwarves, or Ents, to the best of everyone's knowledge. But some did believe the tales...and there were others who did not believe them, and wrote stories based on them, which was perfectly legal, provided you said you did not own those tales. Most of said stories were vile self-insertions called Mary Sues, who disrupted family bloodlines, tore up history, and got to seduce the object of their desire by making them act totally unlike themselves.
"Which is where the Protectors of the Plot Continuum come in. They went through Middle-Earth, killing Mary Sues, usually around the time of the War of the Ring. Me and my sisters became assassins. We used our old nicknames as our official aliases. My older sister became Simaril. My older triplet was Vilya. My younger triplet was Narya. I became Nenya.
"Now, in order not to disrupt the world any more, we had to disguise ourselves. But these weren't just disguises, oh no. We literally became what we had to be that mission. I mean, you could choose to be an Uruk-Hai, and you got the power, the size, the viciousness- everything. But you also retained your true mind. You didn't decide to go off and kill Elves, you went off and killed Sues that were bothering said Elves.
"I...made a mistake. I meant to disguise myself as an Elf. I didn't mean to end up four millennia before I was supposed to. I was also in a body the grand total of ten years old. Which means I was staggering around the land near Rivendell, only half able to walk, making up a name that actually sounded Elvish- Elenlome, night star.
"I grew up twice- once in England, as Jane, or Nenya- which I preferred to Jane- and once in Imladris, as Elenlome. In a way, I had two childhoods, and I'm glad. I think the Valar knew about the PPC, and brought me to Rivendell, so that the place wouldn't break at the seams- it almost did, several times, and those were with emergency groups of assassins working overtime, plus any of Imladris' regular inhabitants who weren't out of their minds. And I could speak Westron, and Elvish, because I'd been there for so long.
"Now, at the end of the Third Age, the Fellowship of the Ring, along with the rest of the general area, began recycling through time. I assume that the rest of Arda simply slowed down so as not to alarm the rest of you. Either way, that's when all the major crisis's came into play. There were nine almost-break-ups in that period alone. There was only one other in four thousand years.
"But back to the Romans. After the Fourth Age- that's when people stopped recording the Ages. I think it was about three thousand years after the end of the Third Age, Gondor and Rohan and Harad and just about any other place you care to name had vanished, along with all the great races other than humans. I'm not saying that there aren't any other races, but they have hidden away, and don't care to come out. When they vanished, humans- forgot. Civilisations fell, origins were lost, and everything had to be learnt all over again.
"During my first childhood, I learned about the Romans. They lived over a period of about four hundred years. They conquered and ruled half the world, and a thousand years later, you could still see the ruins they had left. They could make the most beautiful pictures, using coloured tiles. And their armies were almost unstoppable.
"There. Now that you've all had a thorough grounding in where I come from and why I use words you don't know, along with a brief history of the Romans, how about we pay more attention to the group of them two miles away?"
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Elrond had only been listening to Elenlome/Nenya with one ear.
Since that, instead of being a sue, the girl was sarcastic, frequently impatient, vaguely pretty instead of being a raving beauty, bit her nails, liked raw fish, had a rather short temper, and was flawed in a dozen other ways- although she did have quite a few good points- it was easier to not pay attention.
The fact that he'd had the same explanation in Imladris helped.
The Roman contingent was approaching fast. The Eldar, seeing even several leagues away that they were well-armed and were carrying chains, began to take up a defensive position, with those who were armed moving in front of those who were not.
Elrond suddenly noticed that Tholinsul, Tindome, and Ninquedil had all moved to the front line. He wouldn't have had any reservations about this, except Ninquedil was the only one born on Middle-Earth, and, as eager as his grandchildren were when it came to warfare, none of them had seen battle.
Elrohir and Elladan quickly sidestepped between the three Elflings and the potential foe. With a quick glance at his wife to check that she was beside him, Elrohir nudged Tindome, the youngest, behind him to Haruial and Legolas, two of the few who had thought to bring bows.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
The two companies came to a halt facing each other warily. The Romans could see tat their prospective prey was well armed, and the Eldar could see that their opposition was travelling in the guise of an army, which, by pure association, indicated that they were good fighters.
The hands of the Elven archers tightened on their bowstrings.
Thranduil and Celeborn sent them sharp glances. The King of Mirkwood and the Lord of Lothlorien relaxed as they saw that none was willing to raise the bow and so maybe invite conflict.
Galadriel was considering their opponents in a different manner. Touching their minds, she tried to understand what they were thinking, and therefore probably saying. If, somehow she could use gestures that corresponded to their thoughts, she could allow others to understand what they were saying.
Strong...they...fighters...many...
The Elven-Queen frowned. They were...thinking about the Eldar. That was simple- and the obvious thing to be doing.
Young...work...healthy...slaves...
"RUN!!"
The other Elven rulers looked at her sharply, but she had already turned to move their people away.
Elrond asked her, "My lady, why...?"
"Slavery!"
Gil-Galed's mouth tightened in a grim line. Thranduil had already turned, shouting to the archers originally from Mirkwood to fire. Celeborn had barely opened his mouth when his own archers did the same.
A tight, controlled volley of arrows showered into the advancing Roman ranks. Beyond the line of Eldar warriors (or, more specifically, those Elves who had weapons), the inhabitants of Valinor were breaking away, although those who had family in the front line were waiting...
And then all of Angband broke loose.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Haruial thought she'd gone insane. There was no logic to this battle, only a mad way of attacking anyone not on her side, as Thranduil turned and called to her brother and herself, telling them that they had to come- some of them must escape, and he would not leave them leaderless, nor would he let his wife of children be taken. She knew that he truly hated, even more than slavery for any Elf, the idea that his family should suffer.
And then some of the fighters had joined her, and she and Legolas were running, and weeping, because they knew that if they were not taken then they could more effectively help those who were, but to leave their comrades screamed against the very fabric of their souls.
Ninquedil was racing along behind her, half-dragging her sister and brother, while half the Elves were with them, and the other half being hunted down or engaged in frantic battles for their freedom.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Elrond had been right. Celebrian did not have the faintest idea about how to use a javelin. As far as she was concerned, it was just something she could stab people with.
Any archer who has tried to stab an orc with an arrow can tell you exactly how well ranged weapons work when utilised as spears- very badly. A javelin is meant to be thrown, not stabbed about wildly. Her fight was hopeless from the start.
Within seconds, she found herself lying on the sand, Elladan standing over the body of the soldier who had been attempting to bind her. She scrabbled back to her feet, seized her weapon, and resumed trying to stab slavers through the chinks in their armour.
Looking briefly up at the sky with a prayer to the Valar, she was slammed down to the ground, almost unable to breath, her husband crying her name before he was swept up in battle once again.
And then the memories of when she had been taken by orcs thrust up through the mental barriers she had blocked them with for so long, and she was lost to a screaming void of filthy, jagged claws and hot, stinking breath.
" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "
Aule was furious.
Actually, he was more like completely, raving, Melkor-on-a-bad-day raging. Why was Aule in this mood? Well, first something incredibly powerful had begun battering the land. Tirion was in ruins, Valimar looked like Glaurung had attacked it with the aid of a Balrog, and Alqualonde had slipped out of Valinor altogether for a few minutes, coming back with a loud crash and lava all through the streets. Then Manwe, Ulmo, Varda, and Namo had told him that even Mandos' Halls and the edges of the seas had been shaken severely. Nienna had arrived halfway through the conversation/ "WHAT?!" –yelling-from-Varda-and-Aule, to tell them all that Vaire had seen/woven this part of the world breaking up.
And then Valinor, despite all their efforts, had begun to crack. Manwe had suggested that they should empty her. Aule, quite reasonably, had pointed out that the world beyond would be the death of the Eldar in under a week. So Manwe had proposed that they send the Elves to a different time, where they would be better able to fend for themselves. Varda had jumped in with the idea of sending the Maiar with them, which had been generally accepted. So, to Aule's grudging admission that maybe it would be safer for the Firstborn, they had emptied the land.
And then Valinor broke up into ten large chunks.
Which was why a raging Aule was storming about, trying, with the help of the other Valar, to put Valinor back together.
It didn't help that he'd just had to twist the rules and one-time powers of the Elven-Rings so that they were powerful once more and could also help the Elves.
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Elrond turned, twisted, tried to see his wife, to fight free, to get to Celebrian... but the chains held fast and he could not get free. He remembered Vilya and began to whisper in the High Tongue.
Unfortunately, Vilya's powers had only just been woken, and she was visible to all. Rough hands snatched the ring from his finger, and he glanced about, hoping that Galadriel...no, she too had been taken, no doubt when trying to defend her daughter. Even Gil-Galed was there, having apparently preferred fight to fight to flight and so being caught.
There was no doubt that these 'Romans' were efficient in their work. Any bloodshed on the side of the Eldar had been minimal and all the dead were human. The only problem being that all of the slaves were not.
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Celeborn hated it all.
He hated the sight of his daughter going through an ordeal she had barely survived before. He hated the way his grandsons stood there, hopeless, while he was unable to aid them. He hated the broken, torn look on Elrond's face, and he hated the way they forced the Elves, even the last High King, to get to their feet and be chained together.
And he loathed the heavy, stifling metal band that they fastened around his neck to secure him to the rest of the Eldar.
Most of all, he hated what they had done to his wife. Seeing what had happened to Celebrian, and being at the time uncaptured, she had endeavoured to protect her child. Artanis in a fighting mood was a truly formidable opponent, and she had had many years to hone her skills. After all their kin had been caught, or at least all that had not been able to flee early on, they had decided to use Galadriel as an example.
At least, that was what Celeborn had gathered.
They had not damaged her badly, since it was obvious even to the Eldar, who did not keep slaves, that she would be highly valuable. But they had still hurt her, thrusting her to the floor and kicking at her, beating her with the handles of their whips.
All through this, she had not cried out once.
The image of the Lady lying battered on the ground had shocked them into silence.
He could not even comfort her.
And that was what hurt Celeborn most of all.
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A/N: So, now we know what happened to Valinor- the place broke up! We also have Injured!Galadriel/Artanis, Hallucinating!Celebrian, Alive!Gil-Galed, and a bunch of Elves lost in Italy. Things are not looking up for our heroes. And Valinor's in bits, so no help there. Plus an introduction to Elenlome, and some minor Elf Lord angst.
Beware the Author. Muahaha.
Reviewer Responses.
Hellga: Thanks for that information. I shall change the rapier to a dirk- I think they had those in Arda. Sorry about the typo, and Tholinsul's name, I got it off a name generator- took me ages to get one that mildly makes sense. As for Ninquedil- I'll try to remember to modify it. Elrond WAS living in Tirion, he was just visiting Valimar, as after a few thousand years you have to make SOME friends in other cities. I hope that sorts it out.
Kaye Thorn: I'm glad my OCs don't seem Sue-ish, as I abhor the things. Here is another chapter, and about the writing style- I'm honoured.
Evenstar Elenor: I am SO surprised that you think I'll be an exception to the rule, and shall do my best to live up to the post you've set me. I hope you like the way I did the twins.
Zammy: You are a very faithful reviewer. Thank you.