Panting heavily, she pivoted and thrust her sword into the heart of the dark creature. The burning red eyes brightened for a moment before dulling.
"How long do you think you can continue to fight?" The dark voice chilled her to the bone, though no words had left the slit of the creature's mouth. Its malice and amusement at her predicament were palpable.
"As long as it takes," she hissed in return. Her eyes flashed in defiance. You are not real. You have no dominion over me." She pulled the blade back and forth. Steam burst from the black form as it shimmered and vaporized into a gray mist that swelled and encompassed everything in a dark fog.
"Where are you, my love? Where is my silver light? Am I to be forever trapped in this endless battle?" Her hands clutched the silken fabric of her dress. It was an exquisite and expensive weave from Aman. She laughed bitterly. In her dreams, she was engulfed in the suffocating court fashions she had discarded at every opportunity for the comfort and freedom of her brother's worn tunic and leggings.
XXXXX
"No change?" Finarfin bent to kiss his daughter's golden head. His heart nearly halted in shock, for her pale features had a translucent quality that marked the fading. Celeborn was seated next to her, her hand grasped firmly in his.
"Forgive me, Sire. I am at a loss. I do not know how to treat this black breath." The ancient healer bowed. His eyes were sorrowful.
"It is beyond any here." Finarfin's brow furled in question as his son-in-law still offered no greeting. The noble head was bowed. A curtain of silver hair obscured his face. "Celeborn?"
"He tries to reach her through their bond and no longer responds to the outside world."
"How long?" Finarfin focused his love on his daughter, willing his strength towards her. "Would that I could take your place!"
"Nearly two hours already." The healer pulled a chair up for his King. "I fear we come to the closing stages. The next few hours will determine the outcome." Finarfin's eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He held them back at great cost.
"Please, Elbereth, grant my daughter the strength to emerge victorious over this foe." He recited prayers that his wife and he had prayed together over this last age - prayers to the One and to the Valar to protect their children. Now, it was a pleading prayer to protect this last precious child. Bitter was the realization that prayer was the only way left to him to help his dearest daughter.
XXXXXX
"King Gil-Galad, Queen Indiriel," Merwen bowed at their entrance.
"How is he?"
"His spirit seems tranquil now. The healing sleep appears to have soothed his soul, though the scissions to the fëa remain. Forgive me for questioning your judgment, Sire." Master Beteg commented.
"I would be surprised if you had not. I am no master healer."
"You have training in healing," Beteg interjected.
"True. But I believe these symptoms are somehow tied to his mixed heritage. I received a message from a Sindar Lord that supports this supposition." Gil-Galad revealed as he watched his wife bend next to the sleeping figure.
"Elrond dear, it is time to wake up." She gently caressed his cheek. Silver eyes opened, their glow much more clear than the previous day.
"Indiriel? Ereinion?" Elrond stuttered in surprise as he quickly sat up and tugged the blankets up modestly over his sleeping clothes.
"Ah, the extra sleep has done you well." Gil-Galad pulled another chair over, smiling at the embarrassed blush that crept over the beloved peredhel's features.
"Forgive me, have I overslept and missed something?" Elrond mumbled, looking down.
"No ion-nin, you have missed nothing. We are heartened that you have recovered some of your strength. But we need to ask you some questions to understand the source of your illness."
"Please, forgive my weariness. Do not worry. Master Noenri said it stemmed from years of overexertion in the healing halls. I should be fine in a few weeks." A deeper hue suffused the pale cheeks as he realized that healer Beteg and the Lord of the Forest were also present. He mumbled in embarrassment. "I am sorry if I caused you worry."
"Penneth," Indiriel sat down on the cot and stroked his hair. "You are a gift from Eru and so precious to us." Tears escaped the silver eyes as he automatically shook his head in opposition to her words. "Yes, you are very precious to us." She kissed his cheek and pulled him closer as Ereinion sat down beside them.
"A Lord of Doriath suggested there is more to your weariness than meets the eye. He knew your ancestors and described an illness that one of them suffered."
"From Doriath?" Elrond puzzled. "Who?"
"They would remain anonymous but have guided your brother to seek care from Cirdan."
"Elros?" Alarm now infused the young voice as he began to reach out to his brother through their special bond. But Ereinion shook him firmly.
"Elrond, if it is what he described, Elros is in good hands. We need you to keep up your strength and be more open with us about your symptoms and feelings." Elrond momentarily gaped at the King before shyly looking around at the other faces. "There is no reason to keep your feelings secret."
"It sounds crazy even to me." Shame flickered in the silver eyes, and he mumbled. "Perhaps we are mongrels that do not belong with any kindred."
"Do not denigrate the elf that we love nor let the words of the ignorant color your opinion of yourself." Ereinion chided as he and Indiriel embraced Elrond together.
"Elros will sail, and I will be alone." A lone tear slipped down the pale cheek.
"You will never be alone." Indiriel kissed him. "Do you not know how we love you?"
XXXX
She was visiting her Grandmother in Alqualondë, a trip proposed by her Mother, primarily for the purpose of keeping her away from her Uncle and his rebellious sons. Much to her Grandfather Olwë's dismay, said Uncle arrived only a week later with his sons and many of Noldor loyal to him. Olwë must have been blessed with slight foresight, for he cloistered his wife and many of the ellith in the palace gardens, quite remote from where they met with the Fëanorians . Before long, s creams and crashes rang over the beautiful Swan Haven, audible even in the garden.
"We must help!" She declared vehemently. The guards held them back. It took much convincing before they could enter the palace and assist the healers. Each time the door opened, more wounded were brought in.
"Can you spare some guards to help transport the wounded?" One of the fishermen suddenly turned warrior had drawn the head healer aside.
"I can come." She stepped forward.
"My Lady, it is not safe."
"For you either." She nodded and hurried out in front of him. "Is there no sign of my cousins?" Nothing in her brief life had prepared her for the horror that lay outside those pearl doors.
XXXXXX
"Lord Glorfindel!" Orodiun hurried forward. The Avari guard from the forest and the reborn warrior consulted in hushed voices. Behind them, he could see the back of the Edain, who sat with his arm around Elros.
"Orodiun?" Glorfindel looked up in surprise.
"My Adar provides some council on the peredhel's." Orodiun paused, not wanting to use the word illness, lest it cause affront. He settled on another term as he handed Glorfindel his father's letter: "On Elros' current state."
"Advice would be much appreciated." Glorfindel sighed as he and the Avari sentry proceeded to read the missile. Gasps of surprise escaped them more than once.
"If your Adar is correct, we must find one of the Maiar to help him," Glorfindel exclaimed. Beleford looked over at them. Elros sat tense and rigid beside him.
"Thranduil will bring Lord Cirdan by boat," Orodiun informed them. The young Sindar was visibly shaken at the sight of his friend in such a dazed and pained state. "There is a dock a half a league from here. Will he be able to walk? Can we make our way there?"
"He walked all this way trying to escape the pain. I think we can coax him a bit further."
"The chant of awakening." The stoic and usually silent Avari suggested. Glorfindel nodded. Orodiun and Beleford lent Elros silent support while their two ancient companions sang an ancient melody that rejoiced in Eru's gift of life. Slowly and steadily, they made their way to the distant pier. Indeed, it wasn't long before they spied the double masts of a small schooner.
"Cirdan travels in such a small ship?" A tremor of fear permeated Orodiun's voice.
"The flag at the mast bears his coat of arms," Glorfindel noted that the Avari stepped protectively up to the young Sindar. "It is one of their smaller ships. But many were destroyed in the upheaval."
"Fear not; we forest dwellers have no need to travel on the sea," the low melodious voice reassured him. I trust the Vanya can safely transport the peredhel to Cirdan's care."
"I would also accompany my King." Beleford gripped Elros' shoulder.
"Then it is settled." Glorfindel bowed slightly to Orodiun and the Avari. "I thank you for your aid. Beleford and I will see Elros safely aboard Cirdan's vessel."
"My Elbereth, watch over your search for Ulmo's servants. You are brave indeed to court the ire of Ossë and Uinen."
"I hope we will not raise their ire." Glorfindel and Beleford guided Elros into the small rowboat. Once they had pushed away from the pier and were out of earshot, Orodiun turned to the elf, who had once taught him the ways of the forest.
"Will they arouse the Maiar's anger?"
"It is said that Ulmo and his servants often summon Cirdan to speak with them. Yet I have never heard the mariner speak of initiating such contact.
Xxxxxxxx
"Elbereth, please spare him." Blood spurted over her hands and onto her dress as she fumbled with the torn fabric to fashion a makeshift bandage. Her kin fought each other. How could she choose sides? How could she not? These innocents were her Mother's people.
"He will die, as will you." The sword was poised at her neck. She remembered her brazen words and bit her tongue, but they haunted her still. The enraged Noldo dealt a killing blow to the Teleri she was tending. "It is your fault. You caused his death."
"I did not act in time to prevent it." Her words from an age ago flooded over her lips, but this time, Noldo did not drop his sword. This time, she looked up into the dark visage of her tormentor. Beyond him, she caught a flash of silver hair. Her enemy raised his sword for the killing blow. But she called upon her inner strength, and a sword materialized in her hand. Their swords crashed together as his laughter faltered.
"You wielded no sword at Alqualondë."
"This is not Alqualondë. These are my memories, I control this battlefield!" She parried his thrust and swung left, ducking slightly before surging forward. Two, three strokes were blocked before her sword severed his black visage from his mantle. Steam thickened into a fog and further into a thick mist. Figures with swords darted through the mist. She knew the events of that first kinslaying. For they had plagued her dreams for an age. She had witnessed the end of the battle and aided the injured. Tears slid unbidden down her cheeks. She had failed to foresee the terrible event that set Fëanor and his sons on their fateful path. Now, she was trapped in this hell, forever doomed to fight this dark foe on the battlefield of her own memories. The sword fell limply from her hand as she waited for the scene to change, for the next battle to appear.
"Galadriel! Beloved!" Silver sparkled in her vision.
"You were not there." She closed her eyes against the disappointment.
"But I am here now." Firm arms embraced her, and kisses dotted her forehead as a gentle hand brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Can you not feel the strength of our bond?"
"I failed them. Now I, too, am a Kinslayer like those forsaken ones." Unspoken was her heart's belief, now augmented by the black breath, that she was unworthy of his love.
"You take too much upon yourself. You were not a Kinslayer then, and you saved many with your swift response and defense." His love flared warmly through their bond, pushing away the darkness. "You have defeated him. These dark dreams are his last efforts to subdue you. Yet, you, the light of my life, my Galadriel, you have won. Come home to me." His lips had substance even in a dream. Their touch sent a fire of desire coursing through her.
"I am lost, my Silver Tree," she whispered to his mind. I can not find my way back. Ever is there a new darkness and another battle with this evil."
"Follow my love. Can you not feel it surround us?"
Xxxxxxxx
"Elros, it is Cirdan. Can you hear me?" He stooped over the huddled peredhel and gently stroked the dark hair as he hummed ancient songs. Silver eyes were glazed with pain and longing. "Elros do not fear. It is the remnants of your Maiar blood. It seems to be the way of their development." He soothed in between his repetition of the one verse he could clearly recall. He was no bard. The flashing silver eyes so resembled Elwë's daughter.
"Surely, Lord Ulmo will summon his Maiar to sing for you. It will calm the burning of your blood for the Maiar song." Cirdan said calmly, though the seas tossed the boat wildly. His shipmates hid fearfully inside. Only Glorfindel and Beleford remained on deck.
"Nowë, why do you dare interrupt?" Ossë emerged from the frothing water, assuming an imposing form, his amazingly muscled upper body unclothed. A wicked gleam sparkled in the black eyes. "The Valar sit in judgment of Morgoth and his minions. Lord Ulmo can not attend you."
"Your kin has need of you." Cirdan stated simply. Beleford stepped behind Glorfindel, obviously frightened by the tales of the wild Maia's stormy moods. Stories handed down by the elves told that the willful Maiar had followed Melkor early after Arda's making but had eventually rejected the dark Vala. In contrast, Cirdan was well-acquainted with the sea Lord's sarcastic humor.
"Eonwë?" Ossë eyes flashed strangely.
"No, Melian's descendants." Cirdan bowed slightly.
"They are not my kin. They are of your people," Ossë insistently stated. It is your duty to care for them now."
"I know of no elf or man who suffers from the absence of the Maiar songs. Melian is your kin, as are her descendants. You cannot discard them so easily. Especially since the Herald of the Valar declared their tasks so openly." Cirdan's audacity took the Maia by surprise.
"I know not how the blood of the three kindreds could coexist in a single being." Ossë bristled slightly. "We can only assume it was the Father's will that led to their existence." The Maia swept towards the huddled figure. His approach elicited an anguished cry from Elros.
"You are hurting him." Cirdan raised his voice.
"Life in your lands is full of pain." Ossë returned, but with a flick of his hand, Elros seemed to stiffen, his cry frozen on his unmoving lips.
"You would cause pain to one of your own?" Glorfindel spoke for the first time. The Maia turned on the Vanya.
"Are we not courageous, twice-born?" Ossë gaze was powerful, but Glorfindel did not flinch.
"I will defend the peredhil with my life. What are Balrogs but fallen Maiar?" Glorfindel smiled and cocked his head. The Maia stood silently for a moment before breaking into laughter.
"I am duly chastised. My wife and I will evaluate any injury to the peredhel." Ossë agreed, and in response, a whirlpool rose into a funnel at the ship's side. Seconds later, Uinen solidified and stepped onto the deck. The Ainur exchanged a long glance, their unspoken words not audible to elven ears. Yet their presence affected Elros, and teardrops fell slowly down his cheeks, gradually building into a steady stream.
"Your charge does appear to hear the songs of the Ainur." Uinen gasped as her husband traced the peredhel's temple with his hand.
"Forgive us, young one. We have injured you throughout this long war with our battle cries." Ossë held out his hand, and Elros seemed to communicate without words, for the light in his eyes changed. The elves and man watched in astonishment as Ossë and Elros stepped off the boat and were seemly swallowed by the wild waves. Uinen turned towards the gaping spectators.
"We will return him to you soon." She said, although her lips never moved.
"Maiar do not live separated from their kind, cut off from the song." Cirdan stated knowingly.
"He will hear the song on Númenor. Eonwë will travel with him."
"What of his brother Elrond?" Cirdan asked.
"His brother is also affected?" Uinen considered the consequences.
"He is no mariner, unlike his father or Elros. I doubt he would seek out the sea to find healing."
"He will go to the forest." Uinen acknowledged. "We shall send aid."
"But he will be separated from his brother and from the Maiar."
"The song of the Ainur is interwoven in the earth, in the trees, and in the forest creatures. Someone will teach him how to listen for it."