The Logical Elven Way
Chapter one Diverse Battlefields.
The battle raged vigourously on Mount Doom; the ground was stained with the blood of elves, men and orcs. Elrond Peredhel forced his way through the lines to take his place beside Gilgalad, the elven king. It seemed victory was near for the small alliance of elves and men. A smile touched the half elf's face as the thought that he had helped save Middle Earth played through his mind. He was still young by the standards of the elven race, but was learned enough to know much of Sauron and the ease of this victory surprised him.
Gilgalad, however, was not so certain of the enemy's defeat. It was true that the orc lines were thinning and seemed quite demoralized, but the elf could not banish the sense of dread from his mind. In his heart, the elven lord knew the worst was yet to come. Sauron had yet to mount his true force.
Just as Elrond came up beside him, Gilgalad felt a tremble surge through the ground. the two elves exchanged glances and all cockiness left Elrond's expression. Een Elendil and Isildur, who were fighting nearby, could sense the approach of the dreaded evil, which could not yet be seen. Behind their leaders the armies scattered in terror. Of the men, only Elendil and Isildur remained; Of the elves, Gilgalad, Elrond and Cirdan stood firm. From the darkness of Mordor the most sinister figure in ennorath began to emerge. In a rush of violence Gilgalad was struck down and Elrond sped to his side. the breath was still in the elven king, and he opened his eyes at Elrond's touch. Beyond them, Elendil fell and his son Isildur bent in mourning Souron viciously approached the distracted prince, despite Cirdan's attempts to ward him off. Then, in a blur of action, a wae of power rushed through Mordor with a blinding light. When sight retrunded to him, Cirdan looked around. In the distance he saw the alliance standing unnopposed; around him was only a barren wasteland, save the body of Elendil. He rose and respectfully approached the king, but stopped when he saw a stream of smoke rising from a small area beside the body.
"Elrond, Elrond, nin hirion," Gilgalad called. The land about him burned his fair skin and was drier thean anything the elf lord had ever felt in his long life, which was coming to a close. He could sense himself dying, and could have given in to death's sweet repose, but he still had one last thing to accomplish. He must speak to Elrond, his heir.
"I am here, nin hiru," Elrond replied coming to the warrior's side.
"Are you unscathed?"
"Yes, my lord, I am well." Gilgalad winced as a bright light blinded him and his body began to go numb. "Mani naa ta aranin(what is in my king?"
"Sauron's wound is fatal, my heir. Beware of him, for his power has not yet ended. Protect this world, Peredhel." the elen king pressed the cld metal of a ring into Elrond's hand. The younger warrior closed his own hand around that of the dying iking and there it remained until Gilgalad's arm went limp and death was evident upon his face. Only then did Elrond take heed of Isildur, who stood beside him.
"What has become of the great threat?" the man aksed, almost mockingly.
"I think the more urgent question, Isildur, son of Elendil, is this: where are we?"
Cirdan gazed at the golden thing beside the high king's body. It appeared to be an ordinary ring, yet it burned as if it possessed a great power. Thw elf cautiously bent himself and scooped it up. It's touch was not even warm to his bare hands and he fingered it, quite entranced. Upon its smooth surface were firy letters, but Cirdan feared to read them. As he turned the ring, the writing seemed to fade away, and the elf wondered if he had seen it at all. eventually, recalling Elendil's broken body beneath him, Cirdan placed the ring in his scabbard alongside his sword and turned his attention to the corpse.
As the elf prepared to bear the king to his army, an elven messenger raced toward him, appearing quite flustered.
"Nin hiru, Cirdan," he adressed him. "Where is lord Gilgalad?"
"I do not know. When I arose I discovered only the corpse of the great Elendil and a strange ring." The messenger looked thoughtful.
"Perhaps their disappearance relates to the appearance of four strangers among the warriors. The carry the same weapons we do, but are quite confused." The messenger said. Cirdan did not respond, but secretly thought this was an odd occurrence. kAs he and the messenger bore the corpse to the host of elves and men, Cirdan felt his scabbaard growing heavier. At last they came to the gathering. The warriors parted before the dead king's escort which carried the body to a tent and laid him in a bed. Cirdan litcandles about the corpse and adorned it with the Gondorian's possessions: his shield, the crown of Gondor, and Narsil, which was now shattered. ONce the elf had performed the ceremonious preparations, he left the tent and many soldiers assembled to honor their fallen king.
"I shall lead you to the strange ones, heru en amin," the messenger who had accompanied Cirdan told him. The elder elf nodded and followed the other through the mass of warriors.