Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death
Chapter: 38
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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It was a good plan, Fingolfin thought, but no plan would survive contact with reality. In this case, the Balrogs with the army were far more focused on staying near the fortress than their orcs. And he could not break his line if only part of the forces would actually use the break.
It meant he had to fight longer than intended against an increasingly desperate onslaught of orcs. He was starting to worry that his line would break for real, meaning they might well not be able to re-establish it once the southern forces passed them.
Several hours into the fighting, he could tell that the press from the south was also wearing down the Balrogs as the battleline of Turgon started approaching the southern point of the island.
"Come on..." He snarled, in desperation and anger. "Leave him alone..." He winced when seeing one elf that tried attacking one of the fire-demons be flung to the side... hard enough they hit the barrier. At least the island was still safe?
There was howling on the wind, which felt highly dubious. Yes, Gorthaur seemed to have broken with Angband, his Herald was still above, running mild interference with the orcish archers by drawing fire from their lines. But the wolves that had overtaken both Tol Sirion and the vicinity of the Pass? Those he was still very suspicious about. Well, he was suspicious of all of them...
He could see the massive beasts behind the armored shield-wall of his son, which they quickly crested like waves over the rocky shores of Nevrast. He had to admire them for managing to cooperate somewhat seamlessly.
However, it still took several more hours - and too many dead - before the orcs finally all passed his 'broken' line and the Fëanorian cavalry thundered by, still mostly fresh and rested and supported by several of the more rested wolves.
Draugluin, the massive blue-grey wolf that had guarded Finarfin for the longest time, was not among those. He was limping, nasty burns winding around one of his front-legs and his chest from a Balrog's whip. Barring Maglor, Celegorm and Huan, the rest of the ones in charge of this rescue mission gathered in front of the bridge onto the island.
"Melian will send reinforcements from Doriath." Thingol informed them, arms crossed.
"Now the question; how are we going to inform those in here that we want in?" Fingolfin felt like vibrating, worry clogging his throat. It had been nearly three days at this point. What had happened in here?
"Good question." Maedhros looked up at the gate. "How high does this barrier-thing go?"
"Highest we saw them manage was another half wall-height." Turgon looked over at the left-behind siege-engines.
"Can we think of a way that does not involve me potentially incinerating myself?" Thuringwethil was seated on one of the few upright bridge-posts, looking up at the walls as well.
"I am sure some of Finarfin's kids are coming...? They could use the parent-bond?" Thingol's second - which he was pretty certain from descriptions was the one courting Altariel - suggested.
"Assuming Ara can receive them." Lalwen had been in charge of the other half of his line, since he had left Fingon in Barad Eithel both in case it all went horribly wrong, and to keep their backs clear in case Morgoth had more orcs in his fortress. One of their healers was bandaging her arm, which seemed to have gained a joint since he last saw her.
"I have pups in there." He nearly attacked on principle, just from the sound. Oh, that was the kind of voice that laughed at Finarfin's suffering in his nightmares! He wheeled around at the source, looking at the massive wolf that had spoken.
"Oh, good one." The only one unaffected was - no surprise - the other creation of Angband. "They can warn Master and he can turn it off... I hope."
"I suppose we can try that?" Maedhros' remaining hand was clutching his sword. In answer, the massive wolf leaned his head back and howled, loud and bone-chilling. Fingolfin had to resist the ingrained reflex to lob the massive head off at the sound. From the looks of it, he was not alone in the urge.
Within moments, he could hear something running. He recalled the brownish shape that peaked over the parapet, it having been in the courtyard when he arrived. The youngster whined down at them, before scurrying off at the snarl of the adult beside them.
He wasn't quite able to put a finger on exactly what felt different, but he could immediately tell when the Maia on the island had let down the barrier keeping it contained.