Suddenly a scream echoed throughout Rivendell. Glorfindel shot out of bed, grabbed his sword and buckled his belt. Elladan frowned with confusion when he realised Glorfindel was fully clothed. Dismissing the warrior as the weird type who hated being naked, he sat up in bed as Glorfindel went to the window and threw back the curtain. Glorfindel gasped and took a step backwards, his hand flying to his mouth.
"What is it?" Elladan asked, scrambling to his feet.
"Sauron's forces are attacking!"
Elladan leapt off the bed, wide eyed and fearful, and followed Glorfindel as the blonde ran out the door.
The corridor was filled with panicking Elves, shouts for loved ones and friends were ringing throughout the corridors. His father and Glorfindel were attempting to restore order, but everything was happening too quickly for anyone to gain control over the chaos.
Someone grabbed his arm, and he looked round with a yelp. Elrohir was clutching his arm, his knuckles turning white, Niphredil standing anxiously behind him.
"I'm scared," she mumbled, biting her lip. Elrohir reached down and held her hand tightly.
"'Dan! 'Ro! Niphredil!" they looked around to see Celebrían and Nimdil hurrying towards them.
"Where is your brother?" Nimdil asked, grasping Niphredil by the shoulders, as if to make sure she was really there.
"Don't know," Niphredil replied, taking Elladan's hand in her spare one. Her hand felt cold but slightly damp. It wasn't an overly pleasant sensation, but he decided to bear it, hoping he was of some comfort to her.
"Celebrían, take the Elflings and run," Nimdil kissed her daughter, "I love you little one." She rose and let go of Niphredil, "Go, I will find the others, go!"
Celebrían grabbed Elrohir's hand, and led the three Elflings towards the gardens.
"What about Ada? And Glor'? And 'Restor? And-"
"They must defend Rivendell. It is my duty to get you to safety" Celebrían said, a tear running down her cheek.
"We cannot win against so many!" Elrohir cried.
Elladan frowned, for a moment his twin had sounded older, his voice had deepened and wisdom had glinted in his eyes. Then the moment passed, and Elrohir returned to being a scared little Elfling.
They ran into the garden, and Elladan gasped, his free hand flying to his mouth. Corpses lay scattered about the garden, fire burned bright in the night illuminating their horrific faces contorted in pain from their final agonising moments.
Blood stained the ground and was splattered crimson against stone. Screams of terror and pain, louder than before, rang through the air.
"Stay low," his mother murmured behind him, and all of them crouched behind the bushes.
The group held their breaths as a crowd of orcs ran past. They watched helplessly as Lindir ran out of the house, his sword drawn and gleaming in the moonlight.
"Lindir, no!" Celebrían whispered hoarsely. She grabbed Elrohir and Niphredil, and turned them away so they couldn't see, and closed her own eyes, whispering for Elladan not to look. But he watched horrified as Lindir killed the first orc, but the second stabbed him deeply in the gut. Lindir's scream echoed through the garden. Elladan clasped his hands over his ears, but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes.
The orc pulled his blade out and plunged it back in at a higher angle. Another orc joined in, and soon the rest of the orcs joined in with the game. In and out the swords stabbed, blood pouring from numerous holes, bits of Lindir's flesh and organs slithering to the floor. His corpse dropped heavily to the floor.
One of the larger orcs let out a triumphant bellow, and said something in the Black Speech, causing most of the orcs to run into the house. One of them paused, looked down thoughtfully at Lindir's corpse, before reaching down and tearing off one of the Elf's ears. He walked off chewing thoughtfully on the tip. Elladan heard him comment to his companion, "Tastes like venison."
He frowned, 'Odd, I always thought Elves would taste like lamb or something," he shook his head rapidly. That thought was just too weird. He had just watched someone be killed, a good friend be killed, and all he could think of was what he might taste like. Something was definitely wrong here.
His vision started to fade, and suddenly a sharp pain radiated from his shoulder. Barely seconds later the pain vanished and his vision cleared. He frowned and looked around, gently rubbing his shoulder.
"We have to get out of here," Celebrían whispered from behind him.
"How?" Elrohir asked.
"I am not sure… Maybe the secret tunnel, if we can get to it."
"What secret tunnel?" Elladan could not remember ever hearing about a secret tunnel.
"There is one that leads out of Imladris. It is located near the Ford of the Bruinen."
"But what if we can't get to it?" Elladan asked, turning to look at the others. His mother simply shook her head, guilt etched into her face.
Elrohir frowned and placed his small hand on her knee, "Nana?"
"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," she said, shuddering slightly. She rose, and beckoned the Elflings to follow her.
They slowly moved through the bushes, occasionally letting out little gasps or cries when a thorn or splinter dug deeply into their skins.
The only time they paused was when bodies or pieces of bodies landed in amongst the bushes. Each time bile rose in Elladan's throat and his stomach heaved, but he swallowed heavily, and nudged his twin and Niphredil onwards.
When the bushes ran out they paused, hesitant of what to do. Elladan crept past his mother, and peered out at the scenes of chaos in the lower courtyards and gardens of Imladris.
People he knew, his friends, lay dead or dying everywhere he looked. Carrion birds were nibbling at the insides of Elves, tearing open the corpses with their sharp beaks and glutting themselves upon the flesh inside.
Melpomaen, one of Erestor's best scribes and a fierce warrior, lay on the ground, his pain-filled emerald eyes stared at Elladan. His chest was bloodied, white bone jutted out of it, fractured, and he wheezed painfully, attempting to draw breath. Elladan guessed one of the bones had pierced his lung, and now his friend's lungs were filling with blood, slowly choking him to death.
He inhaled sharply as he noticed the next two corpses. Gloríon and Nimdil lay dead, side by side. Gloríon's corpse was too heavily bloodied for Elladan to tell how he had died, but Nimdil's throat had been torn out. By fangs.
His stomach twisted, and he heard Celebrían gasp as she saw them. The other two surged forward. Elrohir stiffened.
"Nana? Glor?" Niphredil whispered brokenly beside him. He knew she would run over to them, get killed herself, but he could not move as she dodged past Celebrían and Elrohir, and ran to her family. She flung herself down on her knees and sobbed harshly, crying for them to come back, to open their eyes and get up.
Beside him he could hear his twin and mother calling for her to come back. He wanted them to leave her alone with her grief. But at the same time he wanted all of them to be out of there, out of danger. He wished this had never happened.
A sudden bellowing roar caused his to look round. A cave troll lumbered towards Niphredil. He surged forwards, but Celebrían caught the back of his shirt.
"We can do nothing. All you would do is die," she whispered.
"She's our friend!" Elrohir cried.
"I know," she said simply.
The twins watched horrified as the Troll approached Niphredil. Sensing the danger, she sniffed, wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked up. She screamed, and hastily moved backwards, tripping over a corpse.
Then Glorfindel, Elrond and Erestor were running towards the Troll. The Troll growled and threw its spear. It flew through the air and impaled Erestor in the stomach. The dark haired advisor groaned and dropped to the floor.
Elrond slowed and turned his head to look at his friend. A pained cry tore from his throat.
Glorfindel kept running, an anger burning fiercely in his eyes, a roar escaping his lips. The Troll looked at the Balrog Slayer calmly, before swinging its club. The club hit Niphredil with force, and she flew through the air to land back beside the crouching Elves.
Elladan swiftly crawled out of the bushes, and turned her gently onto her back. She was dead. He sobbed softly, hearing his twin crying behind him.
A shout caused him to turn around. His father had joined Glorfindel and the two of them were striking the Troll, trying to find a weak spot in its armour-like skin. Elrond stuck its side, and it roared. Glorfindel then leapt off the floor and struck it in the mouth, his sword thrusting up into the Troll's brain, killing it instantly. The troll then fell on top of him, crushing him.
Elrond gave a cry and pounded against the side of the Troll. A tear ran down his cheek.
Then his mother finally moved, running across to her husband and throwing her arms about him. The twins swiftly followed, hugging their father's legs tightly.
"Ai meleth nin, when I could not find you I feared the worst," Elrond said.
"We are lucky Arwen is in Lothlórien and was not forced to witness this," Celebrían replied.
Elladan blinked, that sounded wrong…
But before he could puzzle out what was wrong with the statement another roar rang through Imladris.
The stone on the left side of the courtyard glowed red hot, and then white hot, and then melted all together.
"Run!" Elrond commanded, but none of them could move, fear had paralyzed them.
A moving fire entered the courtyard. Nay, not a fire, a Balrog. Elladan's mouth went dry at the sight of the legendary creature whose kind had done so much damage in the history of the Elves.
It noticed the terrified family, and took a step towards them, its feet burning bodies to ashes.
"Celebrían, take the children and run!" Elrond commanded, but none of them moved a muscle as the fire demon moved towards them.
Then Elrond drew his sword, gave a battle cry of "Eärendil!" and ran to meet the Balrog. Its whip flew out and Elladan swiftly looked away as his father's scream rang in his ears. The smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils and he fell to his knees as his stomach emptied itself.
A second scream, this time from his mother, filled the air.
A hand grabbed his arm, "'Dan please, we have to move!"
He looked up at his brother's tear streaked face, his mouth tasting disgustingly acidic.
"It's hopeless 'Ro…we lost this battle before it even began," he murmured. Elrohir sobbed and clutched at him.
"Then hold me as we end here my brother."
Elladan spread his arms and clutched his brother, before glaring at the Balrog, "Come on then! Come and finish the job!"
The Balrog took a step forward, its whip lashing out again. The twins grip on each other tightened.
A burst of heat and then he was falling…falling into darkness…