Fræg faced his second night alone in the deep forest west of Jötunheim. He ran further than he thought possible and was hopelessly lost. As a cave dweller open spaces scared him. On top of that, he was famished so started looking around the roots of trees for mushrooms, although he knew the odds weren't in his favor. He hoped some were frozen and survived winter's baron offerings. As dusk gave way to night he gave up and scooped wet dank leaves into a pile over his legs and body. Shivering, he felt the pull of sleep. He spent the first night awake and afraid in the deep woods, listening to movement on the ground and snapping of sticks by hoofed animals.
Only about a quarter mile from him, Thorin and his party decided in the trees it was safe for fires to keep them warm and cook the handful of rabbits they hunted at every clump of brush they passed.
"We're on his trail," Dwalin commented as he watched Thorin stare moodily into the fire.
"I will not disappoint my father. We will find him and he will make the trip in chains," Thorin angrily retorted and threw a bone into the fire. Wasting a day on a runaway dwarf wasn't in his plans. Scouting ahead of the caravan was.
"He can't be far away traveling on foot. I'm betting by tomorrow night we will have better food than this burnt on the outside and raw inside rabbit," Bofur aired his complaint.
In the distance a scream had the complaining dwarf dropping his dinner on the ground as he grabbed his Warhammer and joined the rest who were all on their feet. "What in the name of Mahal was that?"
"Shhhh," Thorin ordered. "Quiet." The camp went silent as everyone listened.
A hand reached into the leaves and pulled Fræg roughly to his feet. He let out a frightened yelp when in the light of the moon he saw the tattooed face of an Easterling. He fought to free himself, but was held fast and a fist slammed into his mouth. The Easterling uttered something in a language Fræg had never heard and was dragged along a trail into a clearing where the old forest of gnarled wood bent in homage to a stone altar. In the center of the meadow a roaring bonfire provided light and was surrounded by a dozen Easterlings and a robed man who was shrouded in a cloak of grey that covered his head and face.
Fræg moaned in fear upon seeing the figure from his drug induced vision.
The tall shrouded man approached and from deep behind the cowl an amused voice spoke. "My insight saw a dwarf was lurking nearby. What is your name, little one?"
Fræg stuttered his name. This was the same who burned the bones and he knew his fate. How he wished Thorin would come and rescue him with his trained warriors and Durin fighting ability.
"You will be guest of honor for our little gathering. We have a special treat for you." He motioned with his hand and the dwarrowdam was led from the darkness. Her face was battered and clothes shredded. "This is Lady Moracaa, Lord Skafid's wife. She agreed to come with us as life was becoming stale in her mountain hole."
Fræg recognized her from the one trip he made north many years before. He snarled, "The dwarves will hunt ye ta yer doom."
The robed man threw back his head and laughed and Fræg got a glimpse of his face and vowed if he lived never to forget it.
"Let the ritual begin."
Fræg was tied to a ring attached to stone and knew they were for holding arms and legs in a splayed position. They ripped the clothes from the hapless dam and one by one the Easterlings took her and her howling shrieks were answered by the screams of Wargs that lived wild in these untamed and uninhabited woodlands. Fræg had tears running down his cheeks and prayed she would die before the next part.
Thorin hand signed for his dwarves to spread out and find the source of the sound and they moved through the forest. A light flickering through branches drew them to the sound that was now more of a plea from a tortured throat. He motioned for his guard to surround them and at his signal attack.
Hundreds of miles away, Galadriel was strolling among the trees after a pleasant supper with Arwen. The younger was at her side and they were discussing the various weaves used in wedding gowns.
"I wove a new pattern for your naneth's gown. She requested linage names from both sides and all her and Elrond's relatives in the pattern. I used silk from the Isle of Luin for its refined silkworm. To make the pattern, I embroidered the names and some of her favorite designs onto the base with fine spun silver. It gave the gown a luxurious glow."
"When I was little, I would sneak into Naneth's closet and look at her beautiful gowns. When I was grown, I asked her to model it for us. She made Adar wear his wedding tunic and robes and diadem. They reenacted their wedding right down to the location. Even Elladan and Elrohir thought it interesting, although teased Adar that he was forced to wed again."
"I wish we had known and could have come and reenacted our parts and of course wear the clothing we sported that day."
Eárthellon filled in for Daeradar and Lindis for you. Glorfindel played his part as rector and Erestor played Círdan. It was wonderful. I remember reading the names on Naneth's gown. I think it was so unique and unlike the usual flowers and leaves. I want something unlike the norm. If I knew my intended, I would do the same as Naneth."
"We can do your names and I think with your dark hair, the shimmering white silk I have been saving for eons would make a gown….." she trailed off, eyes to the east.
"Daernaneth?" Arwen questioned.
Galadriel placed a hand on her granddaughter's arm, "Return to the talan. My mirror is calling."
"But you promised Daeradar. I'm coming with you."
"Alright, but I sense a power rising in the east." With that, she was running, bare feet swift on the stone steps and in seconds was before her stone basin. Taking the pitcher, her hands of steadiness lied as to her inward state. Careful not to splash over the edges and annoy the Valar, water soon filled the saucer. As if she hadn't a care in the world, she calmed herself for what it would expose.
Arwen slipped behind her grandmother and sat on an embedded seat of Mallorn root. She opened herself to feel and hopefully be granted her own vision. In the past, sometimes with her grandmother, she had visions of foresight, but so far nothing more than visions of her father or life at Imladris.
The waters spilled its secrets and Galadriel watched.
Celeborn pushed his weary horse through the night intent on reaching Caras Galadhon by midnight and reclining in his lady's arms until the sun was high. A jolt of his mate's fëa had him telling his horse, Agenon, now wasn't the time to dawdle and make better time.
Legolas and the March Warden called to their horses when the lord suddenly bolted ahead and his horse started running from the easy loping pace he had set for the past three hours; since their last break at a stream where they fished for dinner and allowed the horses a small drink and only a few mouthfuls of abundant grass. They didn't want sluggish horses for the last push and the animals would be given the finest grains imported from the Rohan and they knew it, so didn't mind the lean meal.
Legolas pushed his horse abreast of the lord's horse. "What is it?" He told his mount, Elneth, he could out run the other horse and out of respect don't pass.
"I'm not sure, but Galadriel's fëa is unsettled."
Legolas drew back with the others and passed the message on and they rode hard for home.
Estel lined up another shot with his bow. He was shooting blunts at a hide on the wall of Lord Elrond's main chamber. Before the twins left, they gifted him with a new hide and the targets were smaller and harder to hit.
Also in the room was his mother who always seemed to have sewing in her lap and of course, Ada. Elrond was reading a book and would look up each time he heard the bow release. The boy was getting good and he was pleased because he would have his first hunting trip soon with both Erak and Glorfindel. The three discussed it only the day before and opted for his first trip to be in the colder months to toughen him. He had yet to tell Gilraen and would do so on the morrow. For now he enjoyed seeing a child growing in his home again.
Estel turned. "This is boring. I wish the twins were here. They make shooting fun."
"Fun isn't what I call regressing to your age at their size," Elrond griped to cover he missed them also.
Glorfindel entered with his customary smile. "All is secure and we are tucked in for the last chilly night; for the warm winds from the sea are almost upon us and we won't feel winters bite for many months."
"I trust planting will start on schedule?" Elrond asked him.
"How should I know?" Glorfindel all but wailed and Estel and Gilraen laughed.
"You assured me doing yours and Erestor's jobs was a…..what was the term you used…..oh yes, easy as getting me to fall in love with Celebrían. Nothing in this world has ever been that easy; so for misleading me, I hereby am banning you from Imladris."
Glorfindel pouted with an exaggerated lower lip stuck out. "How was I to know Erestor actually provided a service around here? All he ever does is keep his nose in a book or write in his ledgers."
Elrond ignored the outburst. "You will take Erak and another person of your choosing and ride to the paddock and get a horse for the other person and go hunting for three days."
"I'm to leave the wine with you? I think not." Again Glorfindel got his desired laughter and even Elrond's lips quirked.
Just as fast Glorfindel switched to silent communication and grew much more serious. 'Have you informed Gilraen you are also sending her baby away?'
'Not yet. I will in the morning when Estel is at his lessons. I'm not sure how she will respond so don't want her upset with him jumping for joy.'
Glorfindel without missing a beat grabbed Estel's bow and knocked an arrow. "Let me show you how the twins chipped that statue over there and broke the window."
"And you will replace the glass like Celeborn did and I will ban wine until you are done," Elrond sternly replied, although his eyes crinkled in laughter and memories.
"Ban me here, ban me there," Glorfindel muttered under his breath, but loud enough for his audience to here. "I guess I'll just sit quietly and drink wine." He handed the bow and arrow to Estel.
"Or you could teach Estel a game," Elrond advised.
"Yes," Estel jumped enthusiastically, tossing the bow carelessly on the table and waving the arrow at Glorfindel like it was a sword. "I want to learn to play Ages. I see you and Erestor play it all the time and know how."
"Okay, set the game up," Glorfindel said with mock sternness. "I take no prisoners."
Another Easterling prepared to mount the now unconscious dwarf when an axe flipped end over end and split the back of his head dead center and the glade was overwhelmed with dwarves, swinging weapons and killing unprepared Easterlings with roars of rage. From his tethered hand, Fræg pulled against the leathers strap bound around both wrists. Relief filled him that he would live. At this moment, he planned on being the best dwarf on the caravan and would tell the king he was sorry and make up a suitable excuse to get him out of this scrape.
Saruman, who was at the edge of the fray spotted Thorin slaughtering his mind controlled slaves. Easily deflecting weapons with slight hand movements, he roared, "Oakenshield, we meet at last."
Thorin spun to face the tall cloaked figure. He knew without doubt it was the one his father described.
"I am unpleased, spawn of Thráin. Your father was such a model prisoner, although his untimely escape thwarted the master's plans. You will stand in for him." Seeing the whelp take a step back he laughed, "You have no power to resist. Like the elf, you will willingly come with me."
"My kin will kill me first and deprive you," Thorin raged. "Fight me fair without your sorcery and I'll send you to wherever evil departs to."
"I don't need you intact, dwarf. Taste my power." Saruman raised his staff and a white light slammed into Thorin's armor, heating the metal until Thorin screamed in anguish, drawing attention of his Company and guards. When they would attack the robed man, he effortlessly created an invisible girdle they couldn't penetrate, although Dwalin beat with Smasher, his Warhammer repeatedly with rage filled curses.
Across the sky another white light of power lit the night sky, turning the forest an eerie grey.
Gandalf rested his horse at the top of Caradhras Pass with plans on resting until morning. The Lady cleared a path and it was bare dirt with rivulets of melting snow that the horse easily avoided. He took a bite of Lembas the elves of the Golden Wood always provided him when his travels took him this way. It was fresh and melted in his mouth. Galadriel's command of, 'Mithrandir, Elrond, assist me….NOW!' had him swallowing the last bite and he let power flow from his crystal on top of his staff when he saw her ring light up the sky. His staff was aimed at her to harness her power and magnify her strength for he felt her reaching out half a world away.
Glorfindel watched Estel shake the pieces in a cup and pour them on a game board that was painted with elves, Maiar and Beren and fell beings, randomly dispersed, with the highest in power placed on the outer edge. If any part of the pieces left field of play; the thrower lost a warrior. It was a First Age game with battles and heroes of an age long ago. Even Glorfindel was on the board and the real one rarely chose him.
Estel looked where his pieces landed and Glorfindel allowed him to figure his options without hinting. The boy picked up a black triangle shaped piece. "This is my high power and is Urulókë." The piece landed on the firedrakes picture.
Glorfindel scooped the pieces into the cup and shook it. He carelessly tossed the pieces across the board. They both looked to see if his high piece beat the dragon. Glorfindel smiled and reached for a circle painted red. "I will take…." He jumped to his feet at Elrond's sudden move and they rushed to the balcony in a blur that Estel and Gilraen could barely follow. Just as fast, Lindir was in the room and helping her stand, saying they needed to retreat to the lady's rooms.
Estel started to protest and found that elves really were stronger than Edain when he couldn't break Lindir's grip on his wrist, even using the tricks the twins showed him.
Gilraen didn't protest and her skirts swished as she hurried to her rooms. "Estel, stop it," she snapped.
"What is going on?" the lad questioned Lindir.
Lindir looked at the mother and she nodded. "We're not sure, but Lady Galadriel shouted for Elrond. Usually if the lady reaches out, only Elrond can hear and maybe Glorfindel, but we all heard her shout for help. Now we wait, and I must go to my lord."
"Thank you, Lindir. We will be fine. I'm assuming guards are increased?"
"Yes my lady. We are safe." Lindir hurried away.
Galadriel's command ripped from her throat with power that demanded Elrond join her with Vilya's superior strength.
Tossing his book on the seat beside him, he jumped and ran to his private balcony and knew Glorfindel was one step behind. His ring came to life and glowed on his finger. 'I am here, Galadriel.' He could also feel Nenya and to his surprise Narya was also lit up and Mithrandir's crystal sending power to Galadriel. Without questioning, he sent power to her.
'What is it, my lady?' Gandalf inquired when he felt the full strength of their combined rings and she wasn't carrying the entire load.
'Oakenshield is being attacked by what I'm sure is a wizard. Sauron must have turned one of the blues.'
Glorfindel was pouring life giving support into Elrond's fëa and with his considerable power melded their thoughts so they saw what Galadriel was looking at in her mirror.
Celeborn was riding around the wall of Caras Galadhon when power almost dismounted him. He knew she was using her ring and the night became a ghostly white. Not wanting to distract her, he shielded his fëa and didn't mentally call for the guards to open the gate, as was his custom when arriving after dark. At the gate, he motioned for it to be opened. The guard hesitated and Celeborn snarled, "Get this gate open or I'll transfer your worthless carcass to Thranduil."
The gate swung out and Celeborn was first through, dismounting before his horse stopped running, he ran through the city and down the steps. He saw Arwen pressed against the bole of the massive Mallorn as raw power kept her from moving. She saw him and forced a hand in his direction. Pushing against the force, he soon had his granddaughter in his arms. Still blocking from Galadriel, he spoke mentally to Arwen. 'What is happening, daeriell-nín?'
'Daernaneth was drawn to the mirror and she ran swifter than me. She said a wizard or creation of Sauron was attacking Thorin Oakenshield and threw her hands up and visible power flowed forth. I did hear her loudly call for Adar and Mithrandir to help bolster her powers.'
Celeborn watched his wife in awe. Never had he seen her power at full strength. He knew she used it to drive Sauron back to Mordor, but only Elrond and Saruman were witness to the fight.
Thranduil was sitting on the hill, looking south, wondering what his son was doing this evening and hoping it involved reading lays to Arwen. He was on his feet in an instant when the sky to the south lit white and held. The last he saw such displays was the War of Wrath when Maiar fought Balrogs and firedrakes and other powerful evil beings. He wondered if it was an all-out attack from Mordor.
Other elves on the hill taking the evening air and star gazing, quickly found their king; both to offer protection and hopefully be provided with answers from the king born in the First Age.
"Gather our elves. It's been two ages since I've seen anything like this."
Demythel blew the notes to gather on his trumpet and elves scurried from the safety underground to gather around their king and watch in stunned silence. Thranduil never took his eyes off the battle of light. At first the eastern light was stronger, but now the western light was gaining prominence.
"What is it?" Demythel asked.
Thranduil, in a loud, clear voice explained what they were witnessing.
On the rampart less than a hundred miles from Thranduil, Erestor was relishing being freed from the stale mountain air. Every night, no matter the weather, he found himself needing open spaces and would carry a carafe and glass to the rampart and watch the stars and Eärendil fly. He had to admit this was one of the best vantage points for viewing the stars, and of course they had a good view of Dale.
"Mind if I join ye?"
Erestor twisted his head and issued a half bow. "It is your kingdom."
"Aye, but I don't want ta impose if ye be needing solitude." Thráin stepped to Erestor's left side to better see him.
"I was just thinking you have one of the best spots to view the night sky of any place I've ever been. I think it's the elevation that makes the difference."
Thráin let his one eye admire what held the elf's admiration. "It is one of the reasons my ancestors entered the mountain on this side.
Erestor looked around. "Who is guarding you?"
"Oh, when Balin and Dáin saw ye were here, they went for ale with hopes on this warmer night, ye wouldn't mind ah few drinking partners."
"Not at all. I was just thinking if I were at Imladris, I would have the layout for our planting season completed. We rotate our crops to keep the soil from being depleted. I hope whoever replaced me doesn't listen to Glorfindel. He eats our produce, but I've never seen him drop one single seed into a hole and we've been there almost five thousand years."
Thráin looked shrewdly at him. "Ye are very close, aren't ye?"
Erestor sipped his wine. It was of the finer batch and he knew when Glorfindel found out would find a way to steal some. "I remember when Glorfindel came from the east. He arrived much in the same manner the wizards did. With him on the boat was the most beautiful horse I ever saw. He was just behind Glorfindel with his head resting on the elf's shoulder. I was on the docks taking supplies to a boat of elves that were sailing to the undying lands when elves started congregating along the quay and pointing…." He stopped talking and looked to the steps. The stamping of boots up the steps informed Erestor's sensitive hearing that someone was approaching and he hoped it was Balin and Dáin. He was armed, but didn't wish to start an incident between dwarves and elves if he were forced to harm or kill one of them.
"May we also intrude?" Balin asked cheerfully, a mug in each hand, while at his side; Dáin carried another mug and pitcher.
"I was just telling King Thráin of Lord Glorfindel's return to Middle Earth."
"Great," Dáin loudly proclaimed. "I got ta talk ta him ah few times. He is ah warrior's warrior."
That brought a smile from Erestor. "Men, elves and now dwarves have fallen under his considerable charm. He is like a harmless elfling, without malice, but full of mischief. He can't help himself; he could not prank if it meant a return trip to Mandos' Halls. He has the largest heart of all elves. His entire life is dedicated to Elrond and those who serve the lord."
"What is Elrond?" Thráin asked.
"He is the culmination of elves, Maia and man."
Thráin remembered what was written in the book. "According ta youngsters in the book, he turned down title of High King of all elves. Why?"
Erestor's face took on a look of sadness that even the dwarves could see. "He never got over the death of his cousin, the king. He felt the time of kings was over."
"But Thranduil is a king," Balin pointed out.
"Yes, he inherited the title at the same battle. There were two elven kings and both were killed. Thranduil's situation is different than Elrond's. The people he leads need a king. Sindar and Ñoldor need less guidance, but Silvan does better with a leader."
"We didn't mean ta sidetrack ye." Thráin reminded.
Erestor took a drink and turned once more to look at the night sky. Temperatures were dropping he was going to suggest the king's chambers would be more comfortable and suggest Ori and young Thorin might enjoy hearing the tale also. The southern sky lit up and he uttered, "Sweet Elbereth, what age am I in?"
Thráin, Dáin and Balin lined the stone balustrade, mouths open.
"What is it?" Dáin found his voice first.
"I saw something similar at Dol Guldur." Thráin remembered. "It was like that when Gandalf fought Sauron, only not at this scale. Also, when I went back with the elves, the top of the fortress was likewise displaying an impressive light show. The light suddenly receded to the east an all was dark on top of the tower."
"It's the power of the Maiar," Erestor covered for the rings. "Mithrandir is on the west and I haven't a clue who is responding on the east." He knew from experience it was a Maia or most likely a blue wizard turned to serve evil.
Across Middle Earth, Círdan was nearing the Havens with his group when suddenly he stopped his horse and whirled to look eastward. Likewise, all the elves turned and looked to something even they couldn't see from so great a distance.
"What is causing the disturbance?" Amáphon asked.
"Power of a battle between Maiar, but not them," Círdan answered in typical elven mercurial vernacular. He looked around his group aware their fëas didn't have the power of his. "The power we feel is generated normally by the Maiar, but we have none here. The wizards retained many of their original Maia powers and that's what we are experiencing. Whatever occurs is beyond the Hithaeglir."
Elves from all over Middle Earth ceased their activities and waited. They knew something was charging the air, but most were born in the second or third age and could only speculate. In the camp of the dwarves where the twins and Taíban were camped waiting for the hunt to begin at first light suddenly stopped talking to the dwarves and looked eastward.
Fili and Kili, who were most familiar with elves, signaled for everyone to shut up. Silence fell over the camp and all watched the elves.
Taíban spoke in Sindarin, "It is a Maiar battle."
In continued argot, Elladan asked, "Is Mithrandir fighting a blue wizard?"
"Most likely, but we won't know until we see him," Taíban replied.
"Speak Khuzdul," Fili requested and was sorry he asked for they switched.
"We think Mithrandir is fighting Tauriel's wizard," Elrohir told them.
Kili's face hardened. "I hope he kills him."
"He won't be able to. The best they can do is a draw," Elladan reasoned. "I have so many questions. Did they bump into each other? Is this war? What are our elders doing right now? And the list goes on."
Elladan quieted and looked at his brother. 'I feel the rings.'
'Whatever is happening, even Glorfindel is helping,' Elrohir relayed, his fëa searching for contact with his loved ones.