Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death
Chapter: Prologue
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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It was a strategy-meeting, unofficially, that is. Five of the sons of Fëanor, two sons of Finarfin and one son of Fingolfin, as well as Fingolfin himself were meeting in the foothills of Dorthonion, from where they could look out over Ard-Galen.
Activity had alerted them that after a period of silence, Morgoth was active again in his fortress.
"We can hold the line, surely." They were seated in the lush grass, the strategy-meeting have devolved into a light family-meeting, though of the two sons of Finarfin, one staid well clear of the sons of Fëanor. "Their attempt to get us through the Firth of Drengist failed spectacularly a few years back, and since then it's been quiet."
Celegorm made a face at the statement, but a look from his eldest brother kept him from commenting. Instead, he turned his attention to his hound. Huan was perhaps the most relaxed of the gathering, rolled on his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Ruffling the shaggy fur, he grinned a bit at the kicking back-leg.
Behind him, the discussion went on and on, but he just rolled his eyes at it.
Suddenly, beneath both his hands, Huan grew alert, muscles tensing.
Following the dog's line of sight, his eyes narrowed and he moved from a lazy sprawl into a crouch. There was a pack of wolves down on the plain, which happened on very rare occasions, but they were hunting someone.
"Guys." He moved from his crouch to standing, shielding his eyes from the Sun that was high overhead.
"Mmh?" Maedhros was at his side in a moment, following his pointing finger. "Oh."
The person looked to be an escaped thrall, filthy and bloody. From how they were running, at least their arms were still bound in some way.
While the riders gathered behind him for an impromptu rescue, he kept peering at the shape. The wolves were harrying it more than actually trying to stop it... for now. Clearly, the beasts were playing with their food still. It was likely the only reason the elf had made it this far from Angband.
Huan growled beside him, fur high on end.
It was when one of the wolves decided that playtime was over and bit one of the arms that the elf moved in such a way that he could see their face for the first time, if only briefly.
The sound he made he'd later deny even being capable of making.
"Tyelko?" Of course Maglor had heard, driving his slender mare beside his younger sibling.
"It... That..." His arms dropped powerlessly to his side. Surely not, this had to be some kind of trick of Morgoth! The other was in Valinor, squared away more or less safely behind the Pelori!
"What?" Rochallor appeared at his side. Fingolfin looked down at him, then at noticing his pallor, up towards the figure.
They all knew when the High King realized what his nephew had seen, because with an unworldy outcry of horrified disbelief, he drove his steed forward with all the speed the powerful stallion could muster. Huan was hot on his heels, lengthening his strides to keep up with the horse.
If it was a trick of Morgoth, it was working perfectly, because the High King was outpacing the rest of his present forces by a fair margin, much like his half-brother had once done... and paid with his life for.
Several miles out on the plains, it was as if the outcry had been a signal for the beasts of Morgoth.
One of them took out the elf by the legs, prompting another to go for the head now well in reach. Instead of the head, it got an arm flung up just in time... and the enraged roar of Fingolfin drowned out the pained outcry of Finarfin.