A/N: I realized that Eärwen is a name already in use in Tolkien works. I knew it seemed familiar, So I will be going back and altering the chapters to update Eärwen's name—it will now be Elarinya—Morning Star

Chapter 8

Faces of the Past

They had not traveled far when distant screams filled the air, the travelers jerked their mounts to a halt. Eyeing one another, their mounts jigged underneath them. Daermaethor, Faelon, and the others worked to turn their mounts back to their path, struggling to do so, the horses so used to running towards the sounds of battle. Only Elarinya and Veryan sat still on their horses, silent.

"Come, we are losing the sunlight." Ellethwen said, "Leave the mighty Noldor, to their fate."

"You gave them warning, they did not heed and so filled their doom." Meldiriel stated, eyes hard from anger.

"We did not leave our home to find battles, we left in order to leave this behind." Faelon pleaded, noticing the turmoil in his leader's eyes.

Sighing, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, knowing already what her choice must be. "I am sorry, I cannot turn. They have innocents with them, those incapable of protecting themselves. Were it any other way, I would leave them. However, I cannot allow innocent people to die when I can help them. I will not force any of you to follow me."

She said nothing else as she kicked Calanon into a gallop, her mind entering into his own, showing him their urgency. His hooves flew over the ground, a match for the wind itself. Her companions cursed behind her, all urging their steeds after her. They may not like her decision, but they would never forsake her.

The battle still waged on as they crested the hill. Orcs lay scattered on the ground, some dead, some injured and dying a slow agonizing death, elves were strewn between them. At some point the orcs had gathered with another band, their size increased tenfold. Elarinya cursed. Those unable to wield a weapon had taken up whatever object they could find to offer protection as they huddled around the wagons. Quickly her eyes spotted their leader, bow in hand with the women, a fierce expression on her face. The ellon she assumed was her mate, was with the remaining warriors, whom were tiring after hours of battle.

Without words, they cantered down the hill swords drawn. Startled orcs and elves paused in battle briefly enough to stare dumbfounded as a voice drifted through the trees. "Faelon! Assists the soldiers, Veryan with me! Protect the lady, show no mercy!"

No one questioned her orders, they silently nodded their consent and crashed into their enemies. Elarinya and Veryan rode straight for the wagons were the orcs had begun gathering, eyeing easy prey. Elleth and ellon alike screamed in fear as the creatures sneered and snatched at them, a few souls already in the filthy animal's clutches.

Leaping from the stallion's back she quickly took the head of the orc holding a terrified elleth, warm, thick blood splattered across her face, leaving a familiar metallic taste on her lips. She pushed the woman behind her and placed herself in front of the lady with the starlight hair. Shutting her mind to all else, she let the sounds of war fill her mind, she let everything go, focusing only on the enemy before her, nothing else mattered. Foe after foe she felled, her body acting on memory the dance of battle. Her blades were raised, awaiting to kill the next orc dumb enough to cross blades with her, instead a soft hand gripped her shoulder. Elarinya jerked, ready to strike it down, stopping only as she looked into Veryan's eyes, his concern evident. She was a instrument of death, and it sickened her what she had become. Vomit rose in her throat, but she forced it down, moving to clean her blades before returning them to their sheaths.

"Do we burn the corpses?" Meldiriel asked, walking to stand with them, cleaning her blades.

Without hesitation she replied, "No, we have done our part, now we leave." She did not turn to address the other group, she merely started making her way to their horses who had gathered at the edge of the battlefield as trained. Grabbing a handful of main she made to pull herself on his back when a voice stopped her.

"Wait!" The masculine voice called out, one she did not recognize. Elarinya turned her head to face the silver haired ellon. It was the male bonded to the powerful elleth whom she saw standing behind him, once again regarding her closely. Her eyes were drawn to the woman, even as the man addressed her. The more she studied her old memories tugged at the back of her mind, memories long since forgotten. Finally, she dragged her eyes back to the elf speaking to her.

"I am Celeborn, this is my wife, Galadriel." He motioned her to stand by his side and she stepped forward. "I owe you many thanks for the lives of our people."

Elarinya nodded and mounted her horse, saying nothing. Turning the horses, they started the climb up the hill, when the sound of approaching horses stopped them. It was unusual the elves of Dorwinion were caught unaware, but the battle occupied their minds and they were absorbed in their work.

The riders crested the hill, armor glistening in the sun. The leader, a tall and imposing figure moved forward, the others following a few steps behind. He stopped before Celeborn and Galadriel, removing his golden helm, dark hair spilling forward, pale skin and strong features, more memories tugged at her mind as she studied this new elf lord.

"Galadriel! Celeborn! Cousins, it is good to see you well! Our scouts reported orcs in the area, I am sorry to see we were too late. This is a grievous day indeed."

"We have lost many lives," Galadriel stated, the grief evident on her face, "We were lucky fellow travelers came to our aid."

At this the dark haired ellon turned towards them as if seeing them for the first time. His eyes widened in surprise taking in the strange and exotic elves before him. Skin darkened from long days in desert sun. Eyes darkened with kohl and hair pulled back in strange braids and adorned with feathers and beads.

It was hard to retain her mask as the lord turned to face them, trained as she was, the face before her came close to making her falter. Veryan too, she noted had reacted subtly to the face. Her slip was that she voiced her thoughts rather than keep them to herself, "I know your face." Though the details of his face differed, the lines, shape, the dark hair. "You are kin of Finwë."