Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Authors Note(s): Alas, the end is nigh. Only one more chapter left before I say good bye to my first piece of multi chaptered fanfiction. It's all very exciting. I really hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter!

A massive thank you to Nietta, whitedino, Elfinabottle, viggomaniac, Lina, SiriusBlackFan2, Seduction, leggylover03 and LinZE! Reviews really do brighten my day :p

Beta: You should all be glad Nietta is on the job, saving the world from grammatical errors!

Carry On My Wayward Son

Chapter 6

The Bitter End

He was now at the foot of the tree looking up at Fenneth.

"Come down and fight me like the man you should be rather than the coward you are!" Elrond shouted.

Fenneth seemed to smile slightly.

"As you wish," he said, and then jumped down to face Elrond. "I'm going to kill you now."

Elrond laughed coldly, "We will see. Look around you; your men are all but gone. You should have thought twice before you attacked the house of Rivendell."

The man glanced around; he had not even noticed that his men were being killed.

"What is wrong?" Elrond said, "You haven't run out of bold threats already have you?"

Fenneth swore and drew his sword, "Your precious elves may have been lucky, I doubt the same will be said about you when we have finished."

Ignoring his last comment, Elrond quickly raised his sword to meet Fenneth's.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Elladan angrily started forward but was stopped by a combination of his brother forcefully grabbing his arm and Estel's small whimper as the man dug the knife further into his throat.

"Let him go," Elrohir said, "Now."

Morfran seemed to ponder this momentarily, "No, don't think I will."

Elladan opened his mouth to protest but froze. Someone was holding a sword to his back, and by the look on his twin's face Elrohir was having the same problem.

He composed himself and moved his furious gaze back to Morfran, "Let. Our. Brother. Go," he said. His voice sticky with rage.

"Now, I 'ardly think you're in any position to be orderin' me around. Do you?" he replied with a small smile, then turning slightly towards the man that had come to stand beside him, "Take care of them, will you. I'm goin' t' make sure they don't catch us. Come catch up with me when you're done"

"No!" Estel cried, "Leave them alone!"

"Shush, Estel," Elladan said softly, "Everything will be fine. We will come and get you soon."

Morfran laughed, "If you say so, elf."

With that, he dragged a kicking and screaming Estel away and disappeared, leaving the twins to contend with three of Fenneth's best fighters.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Polinthor walked aimlessly through the trees; there was little he could do to help anyone anyway. It was not like anyone would have noticed he was gone. The men had been losing spectacularly when he left, and if he was being honest with himself they deserved to be. Some of the men were not too bad really, but none of them had tried to stop Fenneth's wicked plan or Morfran beating the small child for no reason other than his own sadistic pleasure.

He sighed and thought about what a big hypocrite was. Perhaps he was just a coward after all.

A crashing sound somewhere ahead of him brought him out of his self-induced stupor, he looked up in astonishment as Morfran appeared dragging the child behind him. He almost smirked as Morfran seemed to be having difficulties keeping hold of the boy, who was fighting for all he was worth. He had always despised Morfran, he was a vile and unpleasant little man and Polinthor had on many occasions doubted his sanity.

He looked down to check his sword was still where it should be and began to stride over to the scene before him with steely determination.

"Morfran!" he shouted, regretting it as soon as the word left his mouth, "Let him go."

Both Estel and Morfran stopped and turned to look at him with perplexed expressions. Morfran soon recovered however.

"Ge' lost. I'm busy," he shouted back, looking furious about the distraction.

Polinthor closed his eyes momentarily to mentally prepare himself for what was to come, "Let him go," he repeated, drawing his sword.

They were almost face-to-face now. Morfran's feature's twisted into a horrible grin and he threw Estel to one side. The child gasped slightly and dragged himself up to hide behind Polinthor.

"You can't beat me. You're rubbish with a sword, why you even botherin'?" Morfran said, laughing slightly.

Polinthor shrugged, "Maybe I want to do the right thing for once."

This made Morfran laugh even louder, "If you say so." He drew his sword and pointed it at Polinthor with a manic smile on his face.

"Go and see if you can hide up a tree or something," Polinthor said so only Estel could hear. The child nodded mutely and scuttled off as fast as his injured body would allow.

As was Morfran's style, he immediately threw himself at Polinthor, sword a quick blur of silver as he moved.

Polinthor had never been good with a sword; he was not strong enough. Although there was one thing he had over Morfran, and that was that he was faster. This was not much help though as Morfran was easily overpowering him.

Morfran slashed his sword down and sliced Polinthor's cheek. He gasped as blood began dripping down his face. He hoped for the child's sake that he was well hidden, for at the moment he held no hope of success.

The constant clanging of sword upon sword was making his head spin. His arms were aching terribly. With a sudden clash Polinthor's sword was knocked violently out of his hands. He stood stock still as Morfran shot him an unpleasant look and spat on the ground.

"Pick it up."

Polinthor didn't need to be told twice; he stooped down as quickly as he could and grasped his swords hilt once more, not taking his eyes off his opponent. He wouldn't put it past Morfran to attack him before he actually stood back up.

"Elladan! Elrohir!" shouted the small child in a tearful voice from somewhere behind him. Polinthor sent out a silent and bitter thank you. To be saved from one enemy by another, how poetic.

"Stay where you are Estel, I will get you in a moment," the first elf said loudly.

Polinthor looked over at them. They looked tired but relatively unscathed. It was curious, he thought, he wasn't aware there was such a thing as twin elves. Then again, until he had met the Lord of Rivendell, he hadn't been aware there was such a thing as a dark brown haired elf either. Maybe they were related.

"I will take over, thank you," one of the elves said to him coldly. Polinthor just nodded and stepped away from Morfran, who had begun swinging his sword around in a frenzied rage.

"What did you do to my men!" he demanded.

"They are dead," was his short reply.

"You will pay for what you have done," the other elf said to Morfran.

The man snorted and launched himself at the nearest elf.

For a moment, Polinthor watched with some interest, but then he decided it was time for him to leave and began to back away slowly.

"You," said the elf not fighting, "Stay there."

Polinthor stopped dead and resigned himself to the punishment that the elf no doubt had in mind. He raised a hand to his cheek and flinched as it came in contact with his cut. It was still bleeding so he ripped one of his sleeves and pressed it against the gash.

The fighting elf seemed to be giving off a fury that not even Morfran could match. His blows were swift and strong. The elf leapt forward forcing Morfran to jump backwards, then much to Polinthor's amusement; he lost his footing and stumbled backwards slightly, only saving himself by shooting his hand out to steady himself on the nearest tree. The elf easily ducked under Morfran's insane swings and fought back with alarming accuracy. Morfran was quickly backed up against a tree in an attempt to flee from the oncoming attack.

Morfran grunted in pain as the elf's sword crashed down onto his hand, causing his to drop his own sword on the ground.

The elf had what Polinthor could only assume was an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face.

"Elladan," the elf next to Polinthor said warningly, jerking his head in the direction that Estel was hiding in.

Elladan's expression softened and he nodded at his twin.

Despite being beaten Morfran laughed, "HA! You can't do it can you? I knew it. You're a coward. Even after wha' I did to tha' stupid kid."

"You are pathetic," Elladan said, "You will come back to Imladris with my brother and I and let our father deal with you."

Elladan lowered his sword and turned around. This proved to be a mistake straight away. Morfran quickly bent down and drew a knife from his boot and launched himself at the elf.

Sensing the movement, Elladan swung his sword around and it came into contact with Morfran's neck.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Elrond's face was slim but strong with grey eyes that seemed to gleam with cold fury, and he was fighting his enemy with all the might he could muster. With inhuman speed he lunged forward and the man's parry was only just successful in preventing him from becoming skewered. It did not stop the elf from grazing Fenneth's side with his sword though. Elrond then had to twist out of the way of the counter lunge. His opponent had obviously decided that being on the defensive for the whole fight was a mistake.

Their swords clashed violently but it was clear that Fenneth was at a severe disadvantage, in fact, it looked almost like Elrond was just toying with the man.

Elrond was glad to see that Fenneth was growing desperate; his attacks were becoming less accurate and less forceful. As out of practice as Elrond was, he was not finding it very difficult to stave off the man's attacks. It was in a moment of weakness that his sword met its mark.

As Fenneth raised his arms, presumably to aim for a high shot, Elrond darted forward and embedded his sword firmly through Fenneth's stomach. The man gasped and dropped his sword behind him. He placed his hands around Elrond's blade to keep himself upright while gasping fitfully for breath.

Elrond pulled his sword out from the man's stomach, his eyes unmoved and implacable, and Fenneth crumpled to the ground.

It had begun to rain slightly, the dark clouds casting shadow all around. Elrond held his sword to Fenneth's neck to make sure that he could not move from his fallen position. The depraved man chuckled.

"Killing me will not change anything you know. It won't take back what we did to your son. I'm just a messenger."

"What are you talking about? Messenger?" Elrond said, pressing his sword down more firmly. These did not sound like the words from a man who had just done all of this for a few acres of land.

Fenneth laughed, "More will come. You have no idea… There will be others you know," the light was fading from his eyes; Elrond could tell Fenneth was dying from his bleeding wound.

"You are insane."

Infuriatingly, the dying man laughed again, except this time it sounded weaker, "Perhaps," he said, "But know this…You may have triumphed today…" he was struggling for breath now, "But…evil will rise again…it always does… This is not the end…"

But for Fenneth is was. His head fell back and his eyes glazed over. Elrond's sword fell to his side and he sighed.

Fenneth's cryptic warning had worried him, in all likelihood it was just the depraved ranting of a desperate dying man, but maybe it was not. Elrond added it to his 'things to ponder later' list. He did have a point after all…Evil would always rise again. But they would just fight it like they always did and hopefully come out on top.

Elrond looked around the makeshift battlefield, the elves had naturally triumphed and no one seemed to be seriously injured apart from Glorfindel. Hooray for small miracles, he thought sardonically.

The rain was getting heavier, and being more prone to human weaknesses than most elves, Elrond was getting cold. The sound of running footsteps caught his attention and he turned to see Elrohir sprinting towards him.

"Ada! We found Estel, Elladan is taking him back home."

"Good," he said with his first true smile since Estel had gone missing.

"There is also a man with them who I think you should talk to. He sort of saved us."

Elrond just nodded, "Is Estel well?"

The younger twin paused, "He has some injuries but it is difficult to say how severe they are before we get back to Imladris. I think he has a couple of broken ribs though."

Elrond grimaced, "Go back to him then and do not leave him until I arrive. I have some things to take care of here first."

Nodding, Elrohir turned on his heel and sprinted off again.

Finally spotting what he was looking for, Elrond walked over to where Glorfindel sat leaning against a tree, eyeing the arrow in his shoulder.

He kneeled down next to the blonde elf, who seemed to be fighting to remain conscious. Glorfindel seemed to have lost so much blood that even the mighty Balrog slayer himself had become weak and fatigued. But before Elrond could say anything, Glorfindel spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Did he shoot me?"

"Yes."

"Did you get him?"

"Yes."

"Is Estel all right?"

"He will be," Elrond answered darkly.

"Am I going to live?"

"Yes."

"Fantastic," he replied before passing out.

To be continued…