There was the smell of expectation in the air. A heaviness, almost tangible.

Two days had passed before Lily could find the strength to sit up from the floor. She knew, despite the difference in language, that something wasn't quite right. The other inmates could feel it too.

She could hear it, at night. The rumble above the dungeons. Like a stampede of elephants clambering in the distance. There was the sound of horns too, of iron clashing against iron, shouts and wails of something so familiar, something she'd heard and seen before.

War.

They were at war. With whom, she didn't know, nor did she care. War meant survival for the captives. War was the road to freedom. War meant death was not so close.

Lily knew she was dying. The chill had provided her with a heavy cough that wouldn't go away and the pieces of stale bread and gruel were a recipe for starvation. She felt stretched. Her bones were sharply protruded, and her stomach had begun the tell-tale signs of bloating.

She'd never really considered the afterlife.

Would her soul live on to weightlessly tarry the earth? Or would she become a stagnant memory - a stone placard jammed into the grounds of a cemetery; like so many others? Would she only be a whisper - a small candle snuffed out in the great wind of the universe?

Oh, god, oh god. Please. Fear gripped at her.

The unknown had always been terrifying.

A yell. A crash.

There was a cacophony of noise reaching their solitary confinement.

Lily could feel that it affected the inmates, for they were restless and awake. She was too. Her eyes constantly watched the window. Sometimes, she'd see a flash of something. Something fast and glinting – almost like an arrow.

It was so quick she'd thought she'd simply imagined it; that it was a consequence of her delirium. That it was similar to the way she'd imagined other things, like waiting at the train station, or sitting in her papa's home.

Lily heard another crash.

The doors to the cells were ripped open. She could hear it. Inmates around her who were able to stand did so. They peered out through their iron bars and cried out with joy.

Lily saw their tears, and wanted to join them, yet she couldn't. Instead, she lay, resting on her side so as not to disturb her wounds. Her breathing was laborious and she felt exhausted. Oh God. She could close her eyes and sleep forever.

The inmates were elated now. Some were waving down the hallway, others attempting to squeeze themselves between the cell bars.

Who was it? She wondered. Had the creatures finally fled their posts?

There were male voices. They echoed louder. Closer. A cell door smashed open not far away. The people inside cried out.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to god it wasn't her imagination and that they were actually being freed.

The sound of hobnailed boots came to her door. Lily's heart jumped wildly.

She opened her eyes and looked up.

A man was there - no, not a man. Too beautiful to be one. In his right hand was a sword, and on his head was a crested silver helmet, brilliant and gleaming in the lowlight. He looked angelic, almost.

Lily dared not utter a sound. His ethereal features were long and sharp, his eyes dark and brooding. His hair hung, straight and elegant down past his shoulders - like silken streams. His skin was pale and smooth. He was fair; so much so it hurt looking at him.

His dark eyes glittered through his visor. They were examining her. Cold. Angry. With a mighty swing, he broke through the lock and kicked the door open.

The strength in his swing took the girl's breath away and she edged back, almost unconsciously. The beautiful being moved towards her, his crested helmet accentuating his height. He was standing - at least - several feet tall.

He eyed Lily as she watched him. He sheathed his long, curved sword. With an elegance that took her breath away, he crouched down in front of her. The man reached for her hand, encasing it between his own. Her fingers appeared like bony claws inside his own large, smooth ones. It was then that Lily realised she was shaking. Violently so.

"Eru Illuvatar, mana falte carina tai?"

The language that poured from his lips was melodic, soft - a far cry from the guttural language of the hunchbacked creatures. "Help me," she rasped, her fingers pulling tighter on him. "Please." Tears brimmed in her eyes. She coughed, then winced.

"Turu tolulde?" He queried, his voice taking on a more demanding tone. His fingers retracted from hers. Bitter cold air greeted Lily once more.

He was not going to leave her here, was he? The thought made her want to bawl. "Please," Lily only whispered. Over and over, like a prayer.

He moved away, straightening. At the implication, Lily could feel tears welling up beneath her eyelids. After a moment of hesitation, he grasped her right arm and yanked the girl to her feet.

Too weak and too tired to hold her own weight, Lily leaned limply against his side, her head lolling.

It felt too heavy for her shoulders.

"Ai, nalyë nindi, hen."

His beautiful voice was laced with something; a sadness - or perhaps guilt? She could not tell. Vertigo was making the world spin around her once more. Like a carousel.

He secured her with his arm, then pushed Lily out the door.

The hallway was now quiet, the other soldiers and inmates moved on. Distant cries rang out. He walked quickly, with Lily struggling to keep up. She glanced up at him; he was most likely aware of this.

The air of the underground labyrinthine pyramid was foul with death. Bodies were everywhere, some slain by soldiers pillaging the conquered vaults, others dead of starvation, now bloated and decaying from days of putrefaction. The look of horror on her face must've come to the soldier's attention, as he seemed to stiffen.

"Naiquet i marto lómë," he said and spat into the cobble.

Pain licked up her arm as the soldier's fingers dug into her flesh. Lily stumbled over a dead creature's leg. His face was crawling with maggots. The dead were everywhere. She felt faint.

The farther they walked, the more horrifying the carnage. Decaying bodies lay tangled together like slaughtered animals. The stench of blood and death was so heavy Lily covered her mouth.

"Isse álmë cam i vára irmaldi?"

Her fair soldier shouted at similarly clothed men separating the dead. They were lifting a long-haired man from between two foul creatures. Other warriors appeared with weapons from below the stairs. They carried steel and silver swords, shields, bows, quivers, and dirks.

The other soldier looked up at the fair being beside her and cast a cursory glance over her frame. "Nna condo Nelyafinwë andú in nalda. Ómu wendi lala cenyavalda i rihta."

Not bothering to try and decipher the melodic language, Lily looked up at the fortress' arched ceiling, the dark stone that had once appeared gothic and cathedral-like from afar. It was now crumbled, chunks having been gouged out by some powerful weapon. The fortress of whence she was captive - it was now just another place of death and destruction.

Lily moved sluggishly, sick and terrified at all she saw. Smoke burned her eyes and throat. As they walked along the stairs leading to the fortress' gates, she could hear a rising, undulating sound of horror coming from within. Her mouth was parched and her heart pounded harder as they approached the exit.

What further horror awaited them outside?

The fair soldier gave her a slight shove. "Ataltaldë a nakuvan tye."

Hundreds of dead or injured were within the outer courtyard, some moaning in their misery and others waiting for death.

It reminded her of a time she thought she'd never have to go back to. To the war. To France.

The soldier pushed her ahead of him through the gate, and Lily gazed at the ragged multitude before her. They crowded the courtyard, milling around, looking for something she knew not. Burnt out flames and smoke assaulted her. There was something foul and utterly evil in the air - an air so hot she could hardly breathe.

The fair soldier pressed her forward into the din. She limply waded through the crowds and passed through another arched gate at the far end of the courtyard.

As the shadowed iron bars passed over them, Lily was met with a hellish landscape. A hot, powerful wind slapped against her face and her shorn head. No longer was she protected by heavily guarded walls. Nature here was at its wildest.

Yet, was it truly nature?

Lily could only stare with horror at the scene before her. Hundreds of… creatures…had been impaled before the crumbling walls of the fortress. Scavenging birds feasted upon them. The ground had drunk in so much blood it was as red brown and hard as brick, but the land itself was beyond anything she had expected.

Other than the great, gruesome forest of corpses, there was not a tree, nor a bush, nor even a blade of grass. A mountainous wasteland lay before Lily, and at her back was the ominous dark fortress, even now being reduced to rubble.

"Oh god," she whispered, unable to take in enough oxygen. The air here was so thin. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

The soldier, still clinging onto her arm, dragged the girl forward down the steep, blood-soaked slopes that dipped into a narrow valley.

What had happened to this place?

Lily's legs wobbled, and she stumbled, hitting the ground hard. Everything spun. The dust and blood from the earth pressed against her face, and she retched. Lily sobbed drily, unable to bring anything up apart from watery bile.

"Ai, hên. Ea en."

Before she could protest, she felt the soldier's arms wrap around her and pick her up, cradling her against his breastplate. Lily pressed her fist against her mouth, fearful she would retch once more. Her heartbeat felt as though it were in her throat.

Be brave. She thought, over and over. Like a worn mantra. Be brave. Be brave.

She thought of the War. She thought of her father, and her beau. She thought of prisoners who had once been with her, who were fearless, and fought to free themselves. Those who had been beaten and starved to death. Of all the inmates, her strength was weakest, her spirit the most doubting and the least bold. Of all of them, she was least worthy to survive.

Why me?

As the sun went down, Lily felt oddly at peace. Even with all the destruction and death around her, with all the suffering ahead, she felt her fear quieten. The stars were bright and the wind blew softly, reminding her of home.

The night was warm.

And she would live.