Note: Sorry for the lack of updates recently. Unfortunately life seems to be getting in the way of my writing again.
Athrana (Wandering Shadow)
Chapter 66- Victory
TA 3019 March 15th
As Athriel jumped down onto the dock she felt calm, a strange calm had come over her. She knew now that she was going to die. She knew that this war would claim her life and eventually she would be at peace, all she had to do was keep the monster inside her under control long enough for the enemy to kill her. In that moment she had no fear, she had no doubt, she was free from it all and ready to be the warrior again. Behind her she felt rather than heard Elladan and Elrohir landing on the dock. In that moment everything was exactly as it should be. She was going into battle with her friends beside her. She knew their movements as well as she knew her own, they could move like a single entity when they needed to, the three of them. An unstoppable force that the enemy had feared once and they would fear them again. Athriel grinned as the first orcs approached them full of confidence. Their confidence didn't last long.
Erestor took a deep breath as he walked calmly down the steps with sword in hand. He was not a warrior, but he knew how to defend himself. He had learned the basics centuries ago, and he had been called upon to fight before. This was his home and he would defend it as best he could. Beside him Elrond was also descending the stairs, and behind them all able members of the household. They didn't know that at this moment every elven realm was in the same position, they were all fighting to defend their homes; all they knew was that they were under attack.
As he reached the bottom step Erestor swung his sword experimentally. In that second the movements came back to him and he threw himself with determination towards the enemy. This was his home; this was where he had lived for centuries beside their lord. This was where he had met and married Glorfindel; this was where he had raised his sister. This was where he had grieved for the loss of his mother, his father and then Athriel herself. This was where they had recently been reunited, and where she would come home to again. This was his home and it was her's. He had to fight for his life and his home, his family and his friends. He vowed in that moment that Imladris would survive, it had to, there was no other option. Imladris would fall over his dead body.
Athriel gripped the knife hilt tighter as the blade sliced once again through orc flesh. She had never felt more like the warrior she had once been as beside her the twins did the same, but ever she could feel the monstrous urges pressing on her mind. The urge to rip and tear into the creatures growing stronger every moment, but she couldn't. The gauntlets on her hands reminding her of their presence. The metal pressing on her skin with every movement, not painfully, but reminding her of who she was, who she had to be for as long as she could. As each body hit the ground she felt a momentary relief from the pressure in her head, but it was soon back with the continued approach of the enemy.
Elladan tried not to smile as he watched Athriel move gracefully through the field of battle, as if she was meant to be there. It reminded him of the first time she had joined them on the training grounds. She had seemed so natural and effortless as she followed the movements Glorfindel taught them. She had beaten him easily that day, and Elrohir who had jumped to his defence. They were stronger than her, but she had always been quicker. Beautiful and deadly, that was what they had always thought about her in battle and he couldn't help but think that again now.
As always Elrohir's thoughts were along the same lines, he could see what Elladan could see, the beautiful movements and the deadly accuracy. But he could see something else as well. He could see what Elladan ignored in his stubborn way. Her armour was a little too big for her due to the weight she had lost and the way she gripped her knives was stiffer than it should be, but most worrying of all there was an emptiness to her at that moment. As if she was cold inside, as if she had given up and that terrified him. "Stop it Roh, stop it" He heard Elladan in his head and tried to push the thoughts aside. They had to concentrate on the battle. Even if the majority of the enemy were being taken care of by the army of the dead, they still had to keep their concentration for the hundreds that remained.
Glorfindel took a breath and glanced around the clearing one last time. Finally, finally they were free of the infernal creatures. Hopefully not too many of them had gotten past, and Imladris would have been well defended. Indicating to the rest of his patrol to follow behind him, Lord Glorfindel set off through the trees towards home.
Athriel pulled her knife free from the orcs skull that it was wedged in and looked around. The battle was winding down now. The army of the dead had swept through like a hurricane and scattered the enemy. They had made quick work of those that remained and they had come out of it unscathed. Standing straight again Athriel tried to shake of the lingering feeling of disappointment that she felt. She would have to wait a little longer for her warrior's death, but she knew that eventually it would come. The battle had been won but not the war. There were some heavy decisions ahead and Sauron still had to be dealt with. She could be glad of one thing however. They were unharmed, Elladan and Elrohir, and she had kept the monster at bay for another day.
As the house came into view Glorfindel slowed down his march. He could see that there had been a fierce battle. Elves had started piling the orc carcasses and soon they would be burnt. Relief spread through the warrior as his brain caught up with his eyes. They had triumphed, the orcs had been defeated. A smile spread across his face slowly as he stopped in the courtyard. But then he happened to look down and spotted the sword lying discarded at his feet. Bending down he picked it up and examined it closely, hoping that his initial impression would be proved wrong, but it wasn't. This was Erestor's sword, and that could only mean one thing. Not only had Erestor been called out to fight, but he had been injured. The sword still in hand the Lord of the Golden Flower broke into a sprint.