Disclaimer: Refer to chapter 1.
A/N: So far, so good.
Chapter 2Erestor took his time walking down the wide hallways, reflecting on the events which had transpired just that morning. A dragon's egg… He thought for a moment, feeling the power that he held in his hands, What if we could train it to fight? Sauron's minions would never stand a chance. He let the thought linger in his mind, relishing the sweet feeling it evoked. But I cannot disobey my lord's orders. I should not even be thinking these childish ideas; the harsh reality ruptured his dreams, they are only a child's imagining, nothing more.
Lost deep in thought, the advisor didn't observe any of Imladris' fair works of art or elegant design. He loved the arts, but today, too focused on the task at hand, Erestor passed them by. He would stand and gaze at the lovely pieces some other time.
The minutes ticked by as he made his way to see the unwelcome sight of Lord Glorfindel. Erestor sighed inwardly; he hated the lord with a passion. His hatred toward the elf lord had grown over the ages, but it all started when Lord Glorfindel had begun to poke his nose into the advisor's work. The elf lord would criticize Erestor every time he thought the advisor did something wrong-which seemed to be quite a fair number of times-but Lord Glorfindel is not an advisor. Lord Elrond would have assigned him the position if he thought it fit. Ever since that day, it seemed as though every little thing Lord Glorfindel did upset Erestor in some form or another.
After countless steps, Erestor stopped in front of Beriohtarion, the weapons instructor. "Master Beriohtarion, have you seen Lord Glorfindel today?"
"Lord Glorfindel?" Beriohtarion said, sheathing the long curve of his sword in its scabbard. "Nay, I have not seen him in a great while."
"Ah," Erestor said quietly, quickly recovering a spot where the black egg had shown through, "thank you for your time."
"You are welcome, Master Erestor. I hope that you find him soon."
The dark-haired counselor nodded his thanks and pulled the egg closer to his chest, not wanting prying eyes to spot the mysterious artifact. He took limitless steps across the vast courtyard to reach the outskirts of Rivendell. He stopped where the tan, sandy brick ended and gazed across the landscape. The Bruien rushed past on its way to the sea, and beyond that, a sturdy mountain range rose from the earth. Imladris and the area around it were impenetrable. At least that is what every one thought.
Erestor could hear shouting coming from the east, across the mighty river. With his keen eyesight, he could see the lord Glorfindel sparing with a shorter elf who went by the name of Castien. Erestor knew Castien well, for the sparing elf was no warrior, but rather a scholar. The young elf was timid, and at often times, ashamed at his lack of athletic abilities. Was this the reason they were training outside of Rivendell? So no one would see Castien? The advisor had no time to linger on the subject; he had to get the egg to Lord Glorfindel.
Quickly locating the white marble bridge that spanned the Bruien, Erestor crossed the rushing river with ease. Late summer, a dangerous time of year for the heavy rainfall caused the river to swell and breach its banks. Already, the water nearly crested at the base of the overpass. Erestor hurried on, not liking the look of the dark rain clouds hanging overhead.
"Lord Glorfindel, there you are. I have been searching most of the day for you." Erestor said as he approached the elf lord. "Castien, please head back home, I need to talk to Lord Glorfindel in private."
Castien looked to his lord for approval. Once he received a nod, he slowly worked his way back to Imladris, being mindful of the cuts and scrapes he had received during his training.
"Lord Glorfindel," Erestor said, trying his best to sound pleasant, "Lord Elrond has sent me to give you this." He handed over the blue wrapped object to the elf lord. "It is a dragon's egg. Lord Elrond wants it disposed of."
"And he sent you to deliver this to me?" Glorfindel tentatively unwrapped the obsidian object, trying desperately to repress the intolerable memories of Gondolin in flames. "Why me?"
"I suppose it is because he does not want information to spread around. Lord Elrond knows you and I well enough. He trusts us with this knowledge, he also trusts that we will not tell anyone. Of which we will not do. Am I correct, Lord Glorfindel?"
"Aye, Erestor, you are correct." Lord Glorfindel swallowed the lump in his throat. You could not save them all. You tried, but it just wasn't good enough… Gondolin, the Hidden City, had been engulfed in flames when he looked over his shoulder. Dragons along with balrogs, orcs, and countless of Melklor's other twisted designs razed the fair city to the ground. And now, Lord Glorfindel truly saw what he held in his hands: a murderer.
Seeing the lord's distracted gaze, Erestor cleared his throat, "Lord Elrond said we must destroy this egg. He did not specify how it is to be done, however. We cannot leave any evidence behind for anyone to just stumble upon, lest we want the whole of Middle-Earth to know that dragons still exist. Where there is one, there are bound to be more."
"More?" The elf lord nearly choked on the word, but managed to keep the mistake from sounding in his voice, "Where was this found?"
"The Misty Mountains. Where exactly in the range, I know not."
Lord Glorfindel nodded his understanding and set the obsidian egg down on the soft earth, not physically being able to hold the weight it proved to be in his mind. "How will we kill it? I assume throwing it into a fire would be futile."
Erestor cast his gray eyes to the equally dark, gray sky for answers, but found none. All that could be found was the beginning of a light drizzle. Apparently being with Lord Glorfindel wasn't enough to make the advisor miserable; Ulmo had to make it rain as well.
"What was that?" Lord Glorfindel's golden head shot to his left, his deep blue eyes searching the foliage.
"What was what?" Never the warrior, Erestor lacked the soldiers' trained, focused sense of hearing.
"That," Lord Glorfindel unsheathed his long sword and readied himself for an attack. "Take this," he threw a knife to the stunned advisor and turned back to the underbrush. The air quickly filled with the stench of rotting flesh, horrible body odor, and numerous other scents of questionable origin.
"I do not know how to fight. What do you take me-" Erestor's sentence went unfinished as a hilt cracked against the advisor's skull, rendering him unconscious.
"Erestor?" The elf lord turned around quickly and took the head off Erestor's attacker. The orc fell, but three more took his place. The lord of Gondolin soon became overwhelmed in a sea of orcs. You could not save him. You tried, but it just wasn't good enough...
Being the first to wake, Erestor had the unpleasant experience of finding himself bound and gagged. He turned his head to find Glorfindel in the same predicament. The once proud elven lord lay motionless now, his golden locks mingling in a pool of his own blood. The once russet tunic that he wore had been cut open in several places and now shown a bright crimson as it soaked up most of his spilt blood.
Orcs swarmed around them in uncountable numbers. Suddenly, something bright caught Erestor's eye. He looked to his right, and there, in the middle of particularly large group, lay the obsidian egg. They found the egg. The enemy has the egg!
"He's awake." Said a foul voice that came from an equally foul face. "Maybe he knows where the rest of them eggs are." The advisor felt cold, clawed hands fumble behind the back of his head. Before choking to death on the foul smell of the orc, the gag fell to the ground and the orc pulled away. "Tell us, little elf, where is the rest of the eggs?"
Erestor thought briefly before answering, "I will not tell you." The advisor knew well that if he pretended to withhold information, the orcs would keep him alive. Alive long enough to be rescued.
"We gots a silent one here, boys!" The orc's face contorted into what could be thought of as a smirk. "Looks like we'll have to play some little games to draw it out of him." A large cheer erupted from the assembled crowd.
We will be rescued soon and the egg will be destroyed… Erestor thought, desperately trying to make the best of the situation. A muffled groan came from the direction of where Glorfindel lie and Erestor looked back to the elf lord. The orcs had untied his gag and they were now questioning him mercilessly. For every question he did not give an answer to, the lead orc would kick the fallen lord with a steel-shod boot. Erestor noticed that Glorfindel had answered none of the questions.
Tbc…
A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed. I'm looking forward to hearing from even more of you out there :) Don't be shy, speak up. Let me know what you think of this story so far.