Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death
Chapter: 39
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The gate was locked, meaning they had to wait until Thuringwethil flew over the wall to open it.
The moment they heard the crossbeam fall to the ground - with a small curse from the vampire - she and her brother were already pushing open the gate.
"Oh... Valar..." Beside her, Fingolfin drew up short.
It was empty inside the walls, empty and grey. Even the light steps of elves stirred up ash, clouds forming as they moved. It had to be remnants of whatever the orcs had launched over the walls. It felt... dead.
The young wolf came bounding down the short road to the keep, bypassing them without a second care to whimper at Draugluin behind them.
"Where are the elves...?" She drew close to her brother, reaching for his arm. "Where..." Where is our brother? Why are they not coming out if the wolf warned them it was safe?
"I..." He only briefly squeezed her wrist, then ran ahead up to the keep. She followed, heart in her throat. If Ara... If their brother...
That door was blocked as well, which was a problem as the keep was not as easily overcome as the walls. This time however, someone came from inside to open it.
It was no elf that greeted them, looking almost like a half-burned statue, crumbling apart at the seams. Their hair looked like the embers of a half-extinguished campfire, hints of glowing orange under grey and white.
"Well... didn't you cause a pickle?" The form asked softly, leaning against the door-opening with a small, weak smile.
"Gorthaur!?" Fingolfin lunged forward. "Where..!?"
She wasn't sure if the Maia - this was Gorthaur? - was too weak to remain upright, or was obliging them, but he slid aside, taking the door with them.
Her heart fell at the sight; the throne-room of Minas Tirith, bejewelled first holding of the Arafinweons... looked as dead as the outside. The elves of the garrison, nearly a hundred as she could count them, were spread across the inlaid floor, most clustering together in groups of five or six. A few reacted when the door opened, but most only barely breathed.
And on the throne, sitting in state like their father once had in Tirion, was their youngest brother. His hair still gleamed in the light that shone inside from the stars outside, the gems of his jewelry sparkling. But his skin was nearly white, nearly translucent.
"Ara!" Their older brother started moving faster than she, running across the room.
Her baby brother smiled faintly at that, a sense of victory in his face, even as his body collapsed. The High King of the Noldor in Beleriand was barely on time, catching their golden sibling before he hit the ground. That is when Lalwen started running as well, helping him cradle the unconscious form.
"What has happened here!?" Fingolfin screamed it against the only one awake; Gorthaur, who was joining them slowly, sinking down to sit against the side of the throne.
"How did you miss the army of orcs outside?" The Maia smirked faintly. "Pretty sure it was sizeable."
"They..." She gestured to the elves, drained dry, collapsed... What healers were with their forces were streaming inside, and from the sounds those made, the prognosis was not good at all.
"It's called Strengthening Song, golden girl." Morgoth's former Lieutenant muttered evenly. "I am not Melian, I don't do barriers and that overgrown nightingale was not exactly answering my requests for pointers." He rolled his eyes. "If these hadn't... helped I suppose, those orcs would have been in here halfway through yesterday morning at the latest." He pointed at Thingol, who was following inside. "Tell your wife she's a bitch, will you? She could have helped some here, damnit."
The Sindar King's face made interesting movements at that, but he did not answer, instead joining her and Fingolfin at Finarfin's side. "You should get him to a bed." He suggested. "Rather than leave him here on the ground."
"Check his hip, will you? I doubt he had energy to keep up with his healing." A wolf-pup toddled up, snuggling into the lap of the only inhabitant of Tol Sirion who was awake. "I'd laugh if he bleeds to death at the end there."