Note: I have assumed here an attack on Rivendell round about the same time as Mirkwood was attacked and Lothlorien for the second time. This is mainly to give Glorfindel a reason to have stayed behind. Besides, at a time where everyone is fighting for their lives, I couldn't have Erestor still sitting behind his desk.

Athrana (Wandering Shadow)

Chapter 65- Into the fray

TA 3019 March 15th

It had taken them nearly two whole days but finally they were approaching their destination. Athriel stood on the deck long enough to see Estel raise the standard that Arwen had given them, before retreating to one of the cabins. Soon they would be docking and joining in the battle she knew would already be raging. Even from her she could feel the enemy as they approached. The orcs made her skin crawl and her blood boil in her veins. Silently she gripped a gauntlet in both hands and tensed. She had hoped that by now she would have some control over the violent urges they brought on, but she felt no more in control than she had done before.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open as she heard the door behind her. "Are you ready Athriel?" She didn't turn around; she couldn't, not until she had her breathing under control. Even though it had been Elladan who had spoken she knew that Elrohir would be standing beside him. She wasn't ready. Of course she wasn't ready. Would she have to go through this every time? She couldn't live like this forever; she couldn't face these demons every time she went into battle. She was a warrior; she didn't know how to be anything else. Slowly the panic grew inside her and she wondered why it hadn't been this bad the last time, when they had waited for the orc ambush after meeting the Dunedain.

Elladan took a step forward when she didn't answer. It was almost time; they had to be on deck soon to join the fray. But Athriel was just standing there. Obviously she had been putting on her armour, in fact only her helmet and one gauntlet sat on the bed in front of her, the other held firmly in her hands. Even though her hands were still pale underneath the scars he could see that her knuckles where white from the grip she had on it. He put his hand on one of her shaking hands while Elrohir moved to her other side. "Ree, it's time to go."

Athriel looked down sharply as the hand landed on her own. It's presence was comforting but she was struck by the contrast between them. Elladan's hand was as it always had been, slightly tanned and deceptively smooth and unblemished despite his centuries as a warrior. Elrohir's that placed itself on her shoulder was the same, although she didn't turn to look at it, but her own hand? Her own hand stood out starkly. Too pale and cover with scars and blue veins of the poison that ran through her entire body. It was not an elvish hand and completely out of place. Already she could feel them itching to rip into her enemies, already they felt claw like and deadly. She pulled away sharply and felt relief pass over her as both hands left her.

"I'm nearly ready" Athriel said as she pulled the gauntlet she had been holding over her hand. She could still feel the slight pressure from where Elladan's hand had been but tried to ignore it as she reached for the other gauntlet. She hardly wore them; even before she had been captured she had always preferred to have as much freedom of movement as possible, as most elves did. As a result they looked brighter and less worn than the other armour she wore, standing out as much as her hands did. But today she felt she needed them. Anything to distance herself from the creatures she would have to face, anything to dampen the feel of their blood on her hands, the feel of their necks snapping from her efforts. She didn't want to be the monster anymore, didn't want to rip them apart, feel their flesh give under her fingertips as if they were claws. She closed her eyes again and almost forgot that the brethren were there with her.

Elrohir had stayed where he was when Athriel pulled away but he was watching her closely. Elladan however had moved with her and now grabbed the gauntlet covered hand again. He had not failed to notice her reluctance for him to touch her and that confused him. They had both thought that they had been making progress; she had been accepting their attempts to comfort her up until now. Letting go of the metal cover hand he reached out instead to touch her cheek. "Are you alright Athriel?" but she moved away from him again too disgusted in herself to allow the contact. "It is to be expected Dan" Elrohir said to him in their minds, although he was just as hurt by her actions.

"It is rude to mindspeak when there are others present" Athriel said quietly, but there was no emotion in her voice. It was as if she was saying what was expected of her in the situation and as such what usually would have made them laugh fell flat. Grabbing her helmet Athriel fled up on deck.

In Rivendell Erestor paced back and forwards in the library. Glorfindel had left on patrol two days ago and had not yet returned. He was not due back yet, but the advisor had a terrible sense of foreboding. Something had happened. Something horrible had happened and all that he could do was wait for news. His sword lay on his desk beside him as he paced, but he had been forbidden from riding out. He was not a warrior, and although he knew he would eventually be called upon to fight, it would only be when the house itself was under attack.

Athriel slowed her steps as she stepped back out into the sunlight. She had to get control of herself, she had to calm down. If they had any chance of winning this war she couldn't pander to her fears, she couldn't let them win. She didn't fear death and she didn't fear defeat, at least for herself. She feared that they would fail and that those she loved would be harmed, but she didn't fear her own death. Death would be easier for her. There was honour in dying in battle; there was honour in dying to protect those that you loved. In death she would not have to face what she was becoming. In death she would be able to heal in peace without worry. All she had to do was hold out long enough to die a warrior's death. All she had to do was hold out long enough to ensure that they were safe and she could die in peace.

As the library door slammed open Erestor turned to face it sharply. It was Elrond with a messenger on his heels and Erestor didn't need to be told. Instantly he turned and grabbed his sword while the messenger explained the missive he carried. The borders had been breached, Glorfindel and his warriors where doing their best to ward them off but they were too many and some had gotten through. The house was under attack and it was time for Erestor to join the fray. He would have to wait to learn how his husband fared, later when they had fought off the enemy and survived. For now he would have to rely on the fact that his heart told him that the Lord of the Golden Flower still lived.

As the boat docked Athriel stood tall with the helmet on her head. Her knives were in her hands and her sword was at her side. She was ready for this, she was ready for battle and she would stave off the monster inside of her as long as she could. Unknowing that moments before Erestor had done the same, Athriel joined the fray.