Chapter Fourteen: Premonition and Preparation

Elrond didn't see Caranel the next morning. He walked to the dining hall alone, seeing no sign of his comrade. There was no familiar flash of bright orange among the gold, brown and black elven heads.

The elf wasn't surprised when no servants dared offer him breakfast. He wasn't hungry, anyway. The gnawing doubt in the back of his mind continued to weather away at him. It was extremely worrisome. What was it about the young elleth that frightened him? What forewarning was his subconscious trying to give?

"Elrond?"

Lórien's voice pulled the elf sharply down to earth. He turned and bowed his head to the Dream-lord, who was gazing at him in concern.

"Are you all right?" the Vala asked.

Elrond didn't lie. "I'm worried, sire. Last night I was talking with a good friend of mine – Caranel, a servant girl – and I had a horrible feeling after she left. I'm not sure exactly what it means, but I know it's not good."

Lórien frowned. "What kind of feeling was it?"

"I just know that something terrible is going to happen. It wasn't very clear; normally my Foresight is much more accurate. Could it be that something is blocking it?"

The Vala didn't reply at once. He was beginning to have worries of his own.

----

Elrond wandered cautiously to his mother's bedroom after breakfast, having noticed her absence from the dining hall. It was most unusual for her not to be there; but then again, everything seemed to be going oddly since yesterday.

A flicker of memory slid grimly to the front of his mind; part of a conversation from four years ago: For as godfather to himself and his brother, Elrond will be required to be near them, should his parents run into any… difficulty.

When he reached Elwing's bedroom, the door was closed tightly, but Elrond could hear his mother speaking softly within. He wondered silently who she was talking to.

"My lady?" he called, reaching out and knocking on the door.

She answered him without emerging. "Come in, please."

The half-elf entered nervously, unsure of whether he was interrupting anything. The room was empty but for Elwing, who was sitting at her desk, poring over something. She stood up when Elrond cleared his throat.

"Lord Elrond," she smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I… you need to know something," the elf-lord replied. "It's gravely important."

Elwing nodded. "Go on."

Elrond drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he spoke again.

"I'm here to tell you that your life is in danger. You must leave as soon as you can; if the Fëanorians find you here, they will kill you to get the Silmaril you keep."

"How did you know…?" Elwing whispered, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"Eärendil told me," the half-elf sighed. "Four years ago."

His mother was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I see."

"You must leave now!" Elrond cried. "Get as far from here as you possibly can. Go where they will never think to look. Take the Silmaril with you."

Elwing sensed the urgency in the elf's voice. "Where should I go?"

"Anywhere. Just so they won't find you."

Elwing stared at him with fearful eyes. "But what about the children?"

"The children," said Elrond gently, "have their adar-ed-Eru (godfather) to look after them."

His mother nodded mutely, a single tear tracing her cheek. Elrond placed a kind hand on her shoulder, glancing up sharply as a knock sounded on the door. His heart skipped.

"Enter, please," Elwing called out, hastily wiping her eyes.

The door creaked slowly open, and a female voice said softly, "My lady, I was wondering whether you were hungry at all? I didn't see you at breakfast this morning."

Elwing smiled warmly at the newcomer. "Thank you for the kind thought, Caranel, but I'm fine."

Elrond's heart leapt when he saw his redheaded friend cross the threshold. Sighing in relief, he smiled, "I was beginning to worry about you, mellon nin. I didn't–"

But he broke off as a terrible vision surged up to his mind's eye. The young elleth, lying broken and bleeding before a tall, merciless figure with long raven hair. A seven-pointed star was embroidered on the front of his tunic.

The image was so swift and terrifying that Elrond staggered backwards in utter horror, stumbling and falling onto Elwing's bed. The impact, however cushioned, was enough to dispel the vision.

"Lord Elrond?" said his mother in concern. "What's wrong?"

Elrond waited until he had recovered his breath before he spoke.

"I… it's nothing… I'm fine."

He stood up rather shakily, clutching the bedpost for support. Elwing and Caranel both moved to help him, but he politely shrugged them off. A brand-new plan was forming in his mind; he could save both his friend and his mother.

"My lady," he said, turning to Elwing, "I was thinking that perhaps you should have a guard or an escort when you leave. For safety."

"An excellent idea," she smiled. "Whom did you have in mind?"

"Perhaps Caranel would like to accompany you," Elrond suggested, nodding toward the elleth. "If that's all right with her, of course…"

Caranel, nodded, knowing better than to ask questions. It wasn't right for a servant to be nosy.

Elrond sighed gratefully. "Thank you very much."

You don't know how much, he added mutely.

----

When noon rolled around, Elrond cautiously approached Lórien at the High Table. The Vala smiled warmly, nodding for the elf to sit beside him.

"I would be glad to have a word with you," he said calmly.

"You read my mind," Elrond smiled. "I was wondering about the attack. All of the elves here could easily outnumber the Fëanorians' forces, but they need someone to bring them together. But the only leaders they have ever known are gone, and…"

"You wish for me to rally them," the Dream-lord finished, "because of their suspicions against you and my brother."

"Just my thoughts," Elrond nodded. "If I'm to judge by what Ruthindir has been saying, the other elves will never answer to a herald of doom."

"And how do you expect me to unite these people?"

"You could send them a mass vision, telling them of their need to come together for their own sakes," Elrond suggested. "Perhaps tonight."

Lórien nodded pensively. "Perhaps. But the attack will not come for three days."

"That's exactly why they need to have a strong sense of togetherness beforehand," Elrond told him. "They need to be ready well in advance."

"Very well," the Vala assented. "I shall warn them tonight."

----

The next morning, every elf in Sirion seemed ten times more alert than they had the day before, thanks to Lórien. Some of them even nodded to Elrond when they passed him in the corridors. The Vala must have put in a good word on his behalf, the half-elf thought.

Several elves approached him at mealtimes, wanting to apologize for rallying against him with Ruthindir. Elrond forgave them readily, knowing that they were serious. Lórien was indeed being efficient; even Ruthindir himself seemed somewhat civil.

Elrond walked the halls of his father's house much more confidently now. As time wore on, tension mounted ever higher. True to his word, Lórien rallied the elves behind Elrond, and the half-elf became the unofficial commander of the armed forces of Sirion. Every elf was armoured and equipped with sufficient weapons.

On the fourth of April, Elrond assembled the elves of Sirion at noon for one last pre-battle announcement. Clad in Mandos' borrowed cloak, with a sword in a sheath at his hip, he stood at the High Table with the Fëanturi on either side.

"The Fëanorians will be here in only four hours," he told them. "But that will be enough time to prepare. We here outnumber them more than twenty to one, but I promise you the Fëanorians will fight like an army equal to our number. But they will not expect us to be so well-organized; we have that advantage. Even so, be ready to fight hard. The sons of Fëanor will not stop for anything. We must drive them out, never to return. Are you with me?"

A roar of approval met his ears. Elrond nodded.

"Four hours. Be ready."

----

Elrond slipped away after his speech, heading straight for the bedroom Elrond II shared with his brother. The twins were inside, sitting calmly on Elros' bed.

"Is something wrong?" the younger twin asked the elf-lord.

Elrond I didn't bother to explain the circumstances. It was better for them not to know everything right now.

"Listen to me, you two," he said firmly. "This is very important. I want you to stay here and don't make any noise at all. Can you do that for me?"

Both brothers nodded solemnly, putting their fingers to their lips in a promise of silence. Elrond I sighed gratefully.

"That's right. Just like two little mice. And don't come out of this room, no matter what you hear. Do you understand?"

Sensing the seriousness in their godfather's voice, Elros and Elrond II both nodded again. Elrond I patted them both on the shoulder. "Good boys. Stay here, and keep very quiet. Like mice."

The half-elf hurried back to his troops, organizing them swiftly. Everything was in place, everyone knew their roles. Time crept by; elves held their breath, waiting...

After what seemed ages, the sun slid to four o'clock.

And the haven's gate burst open with a crash.