Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death
Chapter: 37
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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With Elmo having split off in Doriath to assist Melian in ruling the kingdom while the actual King was elsewhere, it was left to Celeborn to be his great-uncle's second-in-command. Nevermind that he had promised Altariel to do his utmost in saving her father...
"Well, we could just start chipping away at them, but that'd just give them more fuel to... run down the clock?" Celegorm considered, poking the eye-shape that designated the island. "Best would be if we can secure the island first and then deal with the thousands of orcs second."
"We tried that, Dad and I..." Turgon answered, black hair in one thick battle-braid. "But we didn't have enough people for that. Now this side might have, but unless Dorthonion has reached the other one, Dad's still understrength. We've barely enough to harry them and keep them contained from spilling out in either direction."
He suppressed a wince at the thought of any part of the army he had seen outside spilling out into Beleriand proper, where people still lived largely out in the open, once the Noldorian Leaguer had proven effective for the most part.
Ard-galen might be slightly better, if the people that had retreated were still in the fortresses lining it. Assuming that they wouldn't find the March of Maedhros a viable opening, with the numbers the Fëanorians had taken along.
"What if we use that, though?" The red-headed Fëanorian asked softly. "That Fingolfin's likely understrength, and can't hold if the orcs press, I mean?"
The two children of the High King of the Noldor narrowed their eyes at their cousin at that. He supposed it was telling of their regard for their once High-king's strategic accumen that they let him proceed rather than yelling at him.
"We push from the south, the Gondolindrim and Doriathrim together, at least until our line is past Tol Sirion. Fingolfin will let his line buckle and break, letting the orcs believe they can retreat to Angband, which they will do once they realize exactly how many there are now. The Doriathrim and Gondolindrim will push them beyond the Fen. The moment we pass the 'broken line' of Fingolfin, he reestablishes it to ensure none slip past us. Once they are in or beyond the Fen what cavalry we have - so my forces - rides them down, harries them back to the gate and killing as many as possible on the way."
"We'd have to fully push them past the Fen though, the horses would not be able to maneuver properly in there." The black-haired son of Fëanor pointed out.
"What forces in Dorthonion? If you say they most likely haven't made Fingolfin's camp." His King leaned forward, drawing a rough estimate where their own cousin's holdings were. "If we all push them into the Fen, and Angrod and Aegnor deal with what comes out on the other side? A hammer and anvil approach instead of letting them escape."
"Less chance any can sneak anywhere." Turgon tilted his head. "But with all due respect to our cousins, would they be able to properly focus on it when Finarfin's in a besieged fortress and none of us know how he is?"
"I think it might be the best bet to not let them get out." The Fëanorian that almost looked like kin of the Doriathrim royals muttered. "Perhaps have Fingolfin retreat until behind the Fen, use our forces to cut down as many as we can and let the rest die in the Fen and against his forces?"
"Do you think he will be able to focus on it with Finarfin as he is?" Maedhros countered. "Especially after the last few bits of news? No, I think it is best to keep us as the hunters beyond the securing of the fortress. Errr, no offense, Your Majesty. We very much appreciate your aid, but..." He looked at Thingol, who only mildly shook his head.
"Between a thousand horseriders, and a thousand archers, I will admit the first are the better to hunt down an army across the plains."
"So, that's the plan?" Celeborn nearly went for his blade again when the vampire spoke from her corner of the tent. "Should I go to inform Fingolfin?"
When no one objected anymore, Turgon shooed her outside and within moments they heard the flap of large wings.
"She can be trusted?" Celegorm rubbed the stomach of his large wolf-hound.
"I think after she risked getting eaten by the eagles to warn us, and having nearly been shot from the skies several times, I believe we can at least trust that she indeed wants the island unfallen as much as we." Aredhel softly stated. "I am pretty certain that either Morgoth has reached new levels of subterfuge, or Gorthaur's break with him is real. It would have been far more successful had she not arranged an army to be awaiting them on this end of the Pass. Both in getting orcs into Beleriand proper, and getting through the walls."