The next day dawned cloudy and dark - the enemy had been sending for reinforcements and to him gathered dark creatures of all types. I could see the hope disappearing from the men that watched the terrifying, screaming creatures. This would be a battle of the ages - but I could not see the outcome.
Orders filed through the troops, and I was assigned to fight with the archers from Lórien and Imladris. I had been spending my time that was not filled with running messages for Gil-galad among the company of my kinsmen, and I did not relish being apart from them. Thranduil was especially distressed by my transfer.
"I wish you could be by my side," he said sourly, leaning on his spear. We stood in the drizzle, momentarily peaceful in the midst of chaotic happenings around us. "I do not want to hear of your fate so delayed after battle."
"And what of yours?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Do you believe I am in any more comfort not knowing yours?"
He shrugged. "I am not privy to your thoughts."
I pitied him in his unrequited love for me, and I placed a hand on his face. "I do not care to lose you," I smiled. "We will win this day. And when we return to Greenwood – I will trounce you with my unconquerable and much improved poetry skills."
"Come Thranduil!" Oropher had ridden forward on a white horse, commanding and intimidating in his battle gear. "Leave your friend. It is time to destroy this evil!"
Thranduil mounted his own horse, which had been tethered nearby, and rode out with his father. He turned to look back at me, raising a hand in farewell.
It was gruesome. I did not have a close sight of the initial carnage from where I was stationed on a rocky ledge, looking into Mordor, but I saw enough to rid myself of my meager breakfast. I could not see the elves of Greenwood, and I was desperate to know how they fared.
Once the fighting came to close quarters, I was under the command of Elrond on the field, who was calm and ferocious. I wished for his skill of hiding emotion, for I could not keep my legs from trembling as a multitude of orcs ran towards us.
"Caradel!" Elrond turned sharply to me. "Run to Oropher! We are outnumbered – we need reinforcement."
I saluted. "Where is he stationed?"
"North flank."
I took off, bodies parting so that I could pass. I ran with all my might, swiftly leaping over rocks and dodging poorly aimed arrows from Sauron's servants. Indeed, Thranduil had been more accurate than he knew when he claimed that I would be a target. The green cloaks of my kin were soon in sight, intermixed with the black, foul bodies of the orcs. I pulled out my sword and hacked my way through to Oropher, who was no longer using his left arm.
"Sire!" I shouted as I continued to cut down orcs with all my might. "Elrond needs help."
"I cannot spare any," Oropher grunted. I swung towards him and sliced through an enemy who had been about to stab him from behind. "He will have to adjust."
Death poured in on all sides. I do not know how long I fought by my king's side, only that I had never tired so fast, and watching my kinsmen fall kept my emotion at close surface, reining it into a wild ferocity. I was suddenly knocked over and upon by a heavy black body. It did not move – a dead orc! The rank smell filled my nostrils, and I retched drily. A hand reached for mine and pulled me from my prison.
"He was swinging for your head," Thranduil said breathlessly.
"Many thanks," I said.
"You must get yourself from here," his eyes were dark. "Choose a safer front."
"I will not abandon my king!" I shouted.
"Thranduil! Retreat!" The cry from Oropher met our ears, and we turned to see him, almost overwhelmed.
"Father!" Thranduil brandished his sword and sprinted to him.
"Daft prince," I muttered, and I ran after the prince
It was obvious that we were fighting a losing battle, but that did not stop us from trying to help the king. I would never forget the sound of grief from all the elves still alive when Oropher was cut through the heart, and fell. I myself could not help shrieking at the sight. Our great king killed!
Thranduil screamed and butchered the rest of the orcs nearby deftly, falling to his knees at his father's side.
"We must go!" I ran to him and pulled his arm.
"No!" he wept. "I cannot leave him."
"Don't be stupid! We must retreat."
"I said no!" Thranduil bellowed his resistance, standing and bearing down on me. Elves were coming to our aid, protecting the body of our fallen king, and for the moment we were safe, which was thankful in the prince's moment of anguish.
"This is suicide," I hissed. "Get your people to safety!"
"There is no safety! We all die here," he moaned over the din of the battle. "We have lost."
I took him by the shoulders and shook him, angry at his inability to cope. "We have not lost! Put away your sorrow! Sauron will win if you let yourself fail to lead your people."
"I cannot find the courage," tears now streaked in the grime on his face, and I knew that he was not lying.
"Retreat!" I bellowed, turning to our soldiers. "Leave the dead and go to the aid of Elrond!" My command was relayed, and I dragged Thranduil with me as we ran. He had lost his strength to fight, and I was nearly carrying all his weight.
There was no need for our retreat. Soon after our front had been abandoned, the plains began to pulse and shudder, and we collapsed on the hard earth. I turned my gaze to Barad-dûr, where many of the leaders had been fighting. The orcs that had been so violent in their slaughter were now staring around wildly, hoping for the return of the malice that guided them. I did not grieve the loss of the malevolent presence - a weight lifted from my mind that I had not noticed had settled there. Was Sauron defeated?
He was! Cries of victory rose from the men and elves, and they now bore down on the orcs with ease. I could only watch from where I sat, not wishing to fight any more.
"You…you commanded them."
I turned to see Thranduil, also unmoving from where we had fallen. He was confused, disappointed, shocked.
"You did not," I said. "I am not sure I will forgive you for that fault easily."
He hung his head, ashamed, and I knew he was overwhelmed from the events of this day. I reached for him and held his head against my chest, where he wept bitterly. I closed my eyes from the sight of death around me, and cried on my own tears.
Gil-galad had fallen as well as the king of men, Elendil. Those of us that survived, which were not many, departed from the brutal battlefield quietly and without songs of victory. We soon rode for Greenwood, unwilling to linger in the evil land. Thranduil was silent; he had hardly spoken since the war was won, even to me. I rode with him, feeling the warming spring air on my face, and happy to be returning home. I felt much improved. I had always been quick to mend, but I was the only one in our company. The gloomy elves turned to song.
Mourn, mourn
Our king is felled
His hallowed throne sits, now empty
Weep, weep
For sacrifice
Many have died that we might live
I was a bit annoyed at the sadness of the song. I did not wish to return to Greenwood moping!
Evil lord
Enemy dead
His torment is ended this day
Glad hearts!
The woods are safe
Dark things have fled, sorrow no more
I sung loudly, sending smiles behind me at the dour ranks. I had turned the key major, and projected jauntiness, hoping to cheer my comrades.
Sleep, sleep
Thou angry winds
We have endured thy wrath through song
Spring, spring
O! Hopeful day
The light of thy warmth fills our hearts
Wake, wake
O Forest deep
Thy buds are blooming, thy birds blink
Sing, sing
Arda's sweet voice
Ilúvatar has granted life
Dance, dance
In blooming fl'wrs
Welcome each dawn with new songs of hope!
The elves had finally begun to be livelier, picking up verses and singing it amongst themselves, adding variety to the tune and laughing at silly, inventive rhymes.
"You cheer them easily," Thranduil said drily. "Perhaps tonight they will ask you to dance for us."
"To which I will refuse," I said. "Lighten your mood, my friend! It is spring and we will soon be home!"
"You do not contemplate impending matters," he replied. "Now I must become king, with the weight of the kingdom on my shoulders. And I do not know how to be king."
I pursed my lips. "I pray that your first orders for me are to leave your disheartening presence."
"Perhaps they will be!" He was angry, and his horse stamped sharply at the raised volume of his voice.
I wanted to comfort him, but I also wanted to hold on to my blissful mood. "You are not king yet," I told him. "Take this time as your final freedom! Make merry with us."
Thranduil glared at me and spoke not another word.