A/N: *clears throat* Well, I think I owe you all a bit of an apology for the way the previous chapter was left of. I'm very sorry for all the heartbreak I caused you all. And even sorrier to tell you it isn't over yet.

Here comes the War of Wrath and the Fall of the Havens of Sirion. Sorry!

But enjoy! ;)


The grief she felt in the years that came after Glorfindel's death was undeniable, and her family and friends quickly rallied around her. It helped a lot in those first hard few years. Elarinya never stopped feeling it, the loss of what could have been. Of the dear friend she'd lost, and the love she continued to feel.

It was a comfort that elves had a different afterlife known to them than anything she'd even believed in in her previous life. Glorfindel - just like the other dear friends and the patients she'd lost - were healing and recovering in Mandos' Halls.

And when they were deemed ready for life again they would be re-embodied in Valinor. It might take millenia, but she would see him again.

Some day.

But not today, and that broke her heart.

Sometimes even the comfort of her family wasn't enough. Sometimes she just needed to go. Go where the wind took her, nothing but the wild nature of Doriath surrounding her. It was on one of those trips she found her favorite place, a hidden treasure cradled between the cliffs.

A little bay connected to the ocean.

She took comfort in the sea, the ebb and flow of it. Ulmo visited her there and though they rarely talked, the presence of the Vala was a great comfort to her. Water was her element, and standing in the sea with her hair unbound, dress sticking to her skin and the necklace she never took off around her throat, Elarinya felt at peace.

"Let yourself mourn, my child." The water murmured to her, Ulmo's patient eyes watching from beneath the ocean's surface. "But don't let it consume you."

She closed her eyes, and with the wind and water embracing her, El let herself feel the crashing waves of grief. Feel it, and let it go.

Years passed, and Elarinya learned to live with the loss in her soul. Until the Vala chose to speak to her once again.

"Rejoice, princess." The song of the sea whipped around her, fierce in its joy. "The golden one has returned from Namo's embrace and is waiting for you. He sends you his love and regret."

Elarinya laughed then, fäe flaring wildly around her in response. The sea answered back, waves crashing around her in a fierce kind of joy, but never pushing her over as Ulmo looked fondly on.

"Tell him we shall meet again!" She called, purple eyes burning fiercely and hand clenching around the necklace he'd given her. "After all, I still got a bone to pick with that noble fool!"

Some day.

Some day she would sail West and see him again. Some day she would see all her fallen friends again. But before she could ever leave for Valinor there was some unfinished business left on this side of Arda.

Like her parents, who wouldn't be able to survive the loss of another daughter. The friends she made here. Her kingdom, her people who were counting on her. Sauron and the stirring darkness.

And Elwing's downward spiral, worrying them all with her increasingly erratic behavior.

Years had passed since that awful day in which they lost Dior, Nimloth and the twins. Elwing had grown up in Menegroth under the loving care of the royal family but her niece had never recovered. Not truly. She hid it well, but El saw it.

There was something wrong with her great-niece.

Something had broken inside the mind of Dior's only surviving child. El didn't know if it was because of the trauma she experienced at such a young age, or if it was just who she was, but Elwing was erratic in ways she didn't see often in elves.

She was selfish and rash as a child and young adult, even for a spoiled princess. Kind as well, but only when it suited her. Fear dominated her life, and neither El nor her parents could help Elwing conquer it.

She married young, too young. To Idril and Tuor's half-elven son, Eärendil. A sweet boy, who grew to be a dutiful elf who loved to sail. They settled in Havens of Sirion, where Elwing could rule as she wished after Idril and Tuor sailed West, and where Eärendil could journey the seas as much as his restless blood desired.

Thingol let Elwing go with his reluctant blessing - having learned his lesson - and gifted her with the long-coveted dark sword he'd once been given by Eöl.

("I pray you'll never have a need for it, granddaughter," Elu Thingol declared, inclining his head in a regal gesture. "But if the need is ever so dire…"

Melian continued, seated next to her husband on her own throne. "Doriath shall answer your call. Be safe, my dear. Know that you'll always have a home here."

The relationship between the King and Queen and their great-granddaughter had cooled by the disapproval of her actions, but Elwing remained family. She would always be Luthien's blood. They'd raised her since toddlerhood, and they loved her. And elves didn't love idly.

"Thank you, grandfather, grandmother." Elwing nodded, chin raised proudly. But El noted the way her eyes gleamed as she beheld the dark sword, greed swimming in those pale gray eyes.

And Elarinya frowned.)

Elwing never lost her fear, nor her strange hate for Maedhros. It eventually spread to the other sons of Fëanor, and to Fingon as well. Even their infant son, Prince Ereinion Gil-galad wasn't spared from her rising paranoia and occasional vitriol.

But the day her great-niece truly broke was when her sons were born. Fifty-two year-old Elwing suffered over twenty-six hours of hard labor. Twenty-six long hours before her heirs were finally born. Twins like the brothers she'd lost, they were a mirror image of Eluréd and Elurín.

Elrond and Elros.

How Elarinya adored those two little ones. Fierce Elros and determined little Elrond.

The warrior and the healer, she could see it already. Even as infants they had such distinct personalities that El never had any trouble keeping the two apart.

Unfortunately, Elwing wasn't much of a mother. She thrived as a ruler and the Havens of Sirion prospered under her, but as a mother? No, she wasn't capable of such selfless care. She loved them, but Elwing couldn't bear looking at them.

And with Eärendil often away on his sailing expeditions, the parenting of the twins tended to fall to Elarinya, Melian and the maids.

Her mother and El had moved to Sirion when the news of Elwing's pregnancy came to Menegroth, knowing the young elleth needed their support. Nimloth and Idril were gone, but she still had family to help her. Her mother stayed for over five years, helping the girl with the two fractious infants.

Elarinya stayed with Elwing and the twins. She raised those boys as her niece went off to enjoy court life. She raised them.

And she failed them.

Sauron had sent multiple envoys to Elwing over the years, urging her to lay down arms and open the gates of the Havens to him. He desired the fealty of the remaining people of Gondolin but also the sword Elwing now always carried with her.

The dark sword that Eöl made. Only two of its kind existed, the other one lost when Maeglin fell to his death. The sword had a dark kind of power, as dark as the unique material it was made of. They'd cleansed it of course, but at its core it remained the same.

Dark where the Silmarils were light, Elarinya shuddered to think what Eöl's masterwork would do in the hands of someone like Sauron.

Thankfully in this Elwing and Elarinya could agree, and for a while that was that. El would have preferred it if they called for some aid in the form of warriors from Doriath or sent the sword back to be kept safe in Menegroth's vaults, but the need wasn't there yet. Not truly.

Until they were asked for a third time.

The Dark Lord had asked before. But this time he had an army at his back.

And still Elwing did not wish to call for aid.

Elarinya had lost her cool then. She'd very coolly told her niece what would happen to them all if she did not set aside her damnable pride. They couldn't run this time, not with the way Sauron was surrounding them.

"Open your eyes, niece." Elarinya told the woman standing front of her. "We need to move quickly, before there is no way out anymore."

Elwing turned her back to them, a stubborn set to her shoulders she recognized all too well. "Sauron can not harm us as long as you are here, aunt. He fears you too much."

The silver-haired elleth sighed, tired and utterly done with the foolish child. "That means nothing in the face of the army he has brought with him. I didn't defeat Morgoth's army on my own, niece. My song can do a lot, but not that much."

"Wife," Eärendil tried, sharing a look with El. "They mean to starve us. Surround the Havens and wait until we are weak from hunger. We need to act now."

Idril's son was sensible, but too often absent to be of much use. But he cared where Elwing did not, and for that El could only respect him.

"We can wait them out." Elwing declared, sneering. "No orc shall taste the blood of Lúthien's line again, this I swear."

"And what about your people? Should they starve for your pride, Elwing? Your children?" Elarinya questioned sharply, anger making her tone cold. "Should they suffer as well? Sauron will not be refused this time. This time he'll take what he wants."

"Aunt…"

Eventually she capitulated, and Elarinya left under the cover of the night to call for Doriath's aid. Eärendil too went to look for help, though he had a much more ambitious plan in mind.

Idril's son had been searching for a solution to the rising darkness since before the twins had been born, an endeavor that meant long periods of time spent away from his young family.

He went West, determined to ask the Valar for their help.

Elwing, the twins and Elarinya had seen him off, faces grim as they watched his ship sail away from the docks. Soon thereafter, El left as well.

(And if she sent off a little bird to Hithlum, well, she would deal with her niece's wrath later.)

She came back to a ravaged city.

Heart sinking and a scream lodged in her throat, Elarinya gazed upon the wreckage from atop a hill when the seagulls found her. Ulmo's birds chirped their message, voices subdued as the waves crashed angrily around the destroyed city. Sauron had wisely waited until Elarinya had left the city, though how he'd known was a mystery. Then he asked one more time. And when Elwing refused his demands once more, he attacked.

It was a massacre.

Fingon and Maedhros's soldiers had been the closest, alerted by her message. They'd arrived too late to do anything but taking care of the few survivors that managed to escape the smoldering ruins.

They'd set up camp a day's ride away from the warzone, and had been there for a week already. Waiting for her and taking care of the wounded, while preparing Hithlum for what was to come.

They too had been too late for the Havens of Sirion.

But they hadn't been too late for the twins.

Maglor had found them hidden in a closet in their mother's rooms in the tower. Their mother had been there as well, frantic and afraid.

And through a small crack in the wood, they'd witnessed everything.

How their mother had panicked when the two eldest sons of Fëanor entered the room. How she'd spit and raged at them, accusing them of working with Sauron. How she'd backed away, only to fall out of the window. Of Maedhros, offering his hand in a desperate attempt to save her. How Elwing had refused.

How she fell.

And the sea bird that flew away in their mother's place, clutching the sword she so treasured in her talons.

Elarinya couldn't believe her ears when she met with a guilt-ridden Maedhros and determinedly stoic Maglor in their tent, the twins huddled up together under his crimson cloak.

"Maedhros." El said softly, meeting the tortured eyes of her copper-haired foster parent. "Maglor. Thank you. You found them."

She was furious with Elwing for abandoning her sons for the Enemy to find.

For choosing her own skin and the dark sword above her family. El's parents were going to be heartbroken when they learned about Elwing's choice. Another almost-daughter lost.

Another child gone.

But beneath that anger was just grief. Grief for the niece she couldn't help. For the sweet toddler that had been lost to them for so long already.

"Aunty El!" Elros called out upon spotting her, Elrond quickly echoing his brother's call.

"My boys." Elarinya said, breath hitching. She crouched down and the two boys ran into her arms. "I'm so glad to see you two safe and hale."

They looked healthy, happy even. The two brown-haired elflings had been in the care of Maglor and Maedhros for about a week and it was clear to Elarinya's sensitive senses they'd bonded.

Their fäe reached for each other.

Elarinya took a deep breath, and met Maedhros' troubled gaze with a steady look of her own. "Very well then. I suppose I'll just have to come with you."

Maglor blinked, surprised. "Excuse me?"

She drew herself up, every inch the princess even as one of each of her hands went up to caress the back of her nephews heads in a move that immediately relaxed them.

Throwing an imperious look towards the two grown elves in the tent with her, Elarinya told them, "I'll not abandon my nephews. But I'll not take them away from you either. It's clear that that would not be in their best interest."

"Little star," Maedhros began, and El softened ever so slightly at the sound of her beloved childhood nickname. "We, we can't-"

"Nelyo." Maglor interrupted quietly. "Aistana is right. Don't deny you feel it too. We are attached."

Fäe bonded.

In the way of a parent to a child. In the way she herself was bound to her own parents and in a lesser way to the twins. They were hers in every way that mattered, and if it meant the twins were happy then she wouldn't mind sharing them with her foster family. The two elflings deserved all the love she could give them.

"We want to stay here, with you." Elros scowled. "Nan- naneth left us, she didn't care about Elrond or me."

Elrond frowned. "Nana, naneth, was very scared."

"So?" Her little warrior bit back, and El could feel the fight brewing. "She left us. I don't want her. Do you?"

Elrond's hesitation said everything, and Elarinya's heart broke all over again.

Elwing had a lot to make up for.

"They are mine." She stated, smiling down at her boys. They were listening quietly now, tempers soothed and eyes wide. "Their parents have gone West and thus I'll continue taking care of them. But I'm not unwilling to share, should that be what they wish. So, I'll accompany you back to Hithlum, lest you want to be accused of kidnapping the heirs of Doriath and Gondolin."

Maedhros and Maglor winced, both very aware how the opinion on Fëanor's sons still varied. Kidnapping elflings would not be a good thing to their reputation, whether the elflings in question came and stayed willingly or not.

"That might be wise." They conceded in the same dry tone, never sounding more like brothers.

"Co-parenting it is then." She decided with a nod, smiling down at the grinning elflings tucked against her. "What a peculiar family we will be. But a family nonetheless."

"Co-parenting," Maedhros mused, eyes crinkling up in a smile. "I like that word. Co-parenting it is."

Maglor hummed then, eying the two elflings with a soft look in his eyes. "I'll join you in Hithlum, brother. The Gap can do without me for a while."

The twins cheered, and ran towards Maglor. They didn't hug him as they had her, but they clearly wanted to. Instead Maglor just opened his arms, and let them decide. Elrond grinned, and neatly fitted himself under the lifted arm, Elros quickly following from his other side.

She grinned at them, the stress of the last few weeks finally settling a bit. "I also want to be there when you explain how you got two new sons to your husband. Fingon is going to lose it."

Fosterage or adoption, Elros and Elrond would be gladly taken in by Fingon, of that much she was certain.

The High King loved children.

But he if there was anything that flustered the High King of the Noldor then it was surprises. He just couldn't handle them. In his private life at least.

"Finno will be a whirlwind for a while as he prepares everything for you two, but he'll calm down and love you as we do." Maedhros' lips twitched, a besotted look on his face that made El roll her eyes in exasperation. "Ereinion on the other hand will likely love his new little brothers immediately."

"A big brother?" Elrond asked softly, letting go of Maglor to come back to her, one hand clutching at her skirt. He sounded unsure, and El looked down to meet his utterly adorable if dubious little face. "Like Elros?"

"My son is a bit older than you and your brother, little one." Maedhros smiled, scars pulling gently on his face. "But I'm sure he'll like you."

Maglor barked out a musical sounding laugh. "He certainly has been asking for a sibling for long enough."

"And naneth and ada?" The twins asked simultaneously, in the eerie identical way of all twins everywhere. Amros and Amrod often did the same, enjoying the creeped out reactions they got.

Elarinya closed her eyes, "Their fate is now in the hands of the Valar. I can't promise you what will happen in the future, little loves. But you two will always have a place with me."

"And with us." Maedhros said quietly, voice so sincere that nobody could deny the care he felt for the two elflings. "Always."

And sharing a look above the two little heads of her nephews, Elarinya knew they would fight for that to be true. Always.

oOo

The fall of the Havens was the final straw to the tenuous peace they'd been living in.

Sauron was done waiting. Done preparing. He was ready for open war, and so open war it would be. The Dark Lord had already landed a blow on Doriath's royal family, orchestrated the fall of Gondolin and now there was the ruination of the Havens of Sirion.

The other elven kingdoms would soon be next.

They'd barely time to settle the twins in Hithlum with Fingon and Gil-galad when another call for aid came. And another.

Soon Doriath went once again to war, and her father with them. Hithlum too was ready for war, and all of the Noldor with it. Every elven kingdom in Beleriand answered the call and the Three Houses of the Edain fought with them. As did the Dwarrow allied to Maedhros. They all knew the importance of this fight. Every able warrior was called upon.

Sauron had to go.

Galadriel and her people joined the fight, and her presence at the side of Queen Melian made for an awe inspiring sight. Elarinya too fought at the side of her mother and her former apprentice, though she spent most of her time in the healing tents.

For four decades they fought. Forty long years in which she watched as her home got destroyed bit by bit.

Hope spread when the Host of the Valinor arrived, and Elarinya learned that Eärendil's plea for aid had borne fruit. The host was mighty, and it took the whole power of Morgoth's former throne to fight against them all.

Slowly but surely, over the decades that they fought, it became clear that they were winning ground. Whole armies of orcs were perishing, just like the balrogs and other fell creatures. They were winning.

Then Sauron unleashed his last desperate assault.

Morgoth's winged dragons.

Elarinya had been on the battlefield then, using her voice to slow the fiery approach of these new monsters. They were horrific creatures, but mighty. A nightmare in living flesh.

The greatest one of all was black, and he managed to overcome the host of the West. Elarinya did her best, but she could not stop the black nightmare from slaughtering his way through elf and man alike.

They lost Curufin and Amrod and Amras that day, and the fury of the surviving sons of Fëanor had been breathtaking to witness. They beat back what remained of Sauron's army, their righteous fury seemingly making them glow.

But there was nothing they could do against a dragon.

Then a familiar ship broke through the clouds, a sight so strange that for a moment Elarinya thought she had hit her head.

"Are you seeing this, my friend?" She asked the elf next to her, eyes fixed upon the flying ship of her niece's husband. A flying ship and a flying dragon, El thought, shaking her head. How peculiar.

"If you mean the flying ship accompanied by the Eagles of Manwë and his Herald, then yes, I'm also seeing it." The elleth replied dazedly, mouth slack with surprise. Maedhros' second had been fighting at her side for a while now, and the two of them had become good friends. Varyallë was as stubborn as a mule and El thought she was hilarious.

Another, a man from Bór's line, called with a grin, "Or did we all eat the same mushrooms?"

"I hate mushrooms." Elarinya shared absentmindedly, squinting up to see if she could perhaps spot the twins' father. "So that can't be it."

The battle against Ancalagon the Black lasted a full day, and ended when Eärendil slayed the mighty dragon. The beast fell with a deafening screech, right on top of the Towers of Thangorodrim.

With Ancalagon dead, they quickly retook the lost ground. They destroyed the pits of Morgoth and then finally dared to enter into Angband.

It was a desolate land.

Despair pierced any who was good as they witnessed the state of the thralls and prisoners. Evil, they all agreed. This was true evil.

Elarinya sang, healed and soothed. She became a light in the darkness of these lands, with Galadriel and Melian quickly following her lead. Their song brought much needed relief to their people, and lifted their spirits enough so that they could continue on.

It was time to finish this.

She longed to go home, but knew that wasn't possible any longer. Her home was gone.

The world had changed in this last war. Kingdoms had sunken, mountains had fallen and rivers were reformed or destroyed. Most of the North had fallen into the sea and El knew her life would never be the same again.

Not when Doriath had fallen with the most of Beleriand.

Menegroth was gone. Her beloved city under the mountain was no more. Neither were the lands she so loved to travel and the little cliffside that used to bring her so much peace. Orcs ravaged Doriath into the ground, though they had enough warning to at least to get the people out first.

It was a hard blow to Thingol and everyone else. To Elarinya. They'd lost their home, but thankfully not their people. Not all of them.

The fight went on.

Eonwë met the Dark Lord blade for blade. They fought, grim determination clear on the face of Manwë's Herald. Her uncle fought well, and El knew even Sauron couldn't win against the warrior the Lord of the Eagles was.

And Sauron knew it too.

Even from where Elarinya was fighting through the last of the fleeing orcs she could see the moment he made his decision. A flare of fire, almost like an eye burned in her retinas, blinding foe and ally alike.

Sauron fled back into his dark lands, his army defeated.

A cheer rose up, spreading through Elf, Man and Dwarf alike. It had taken forty long years, but it was finally over. The war was over. They'd won.

The Second Age had begun.

oOo

Twelve hundred years passed.

After the four decade long war they were now calling the War of Wrath, Eonwë declared the ban to Aman lifted, and together with the Host of the Valinor quite few of the Noldor returned back home to the lands they'd once left to follow Fëanor and Fingolfin.

Her parents sailed soon after. They had waited as long as they could, for her and the twins. But the war was over, the twins just about grown and Sauron seemed to have disappeared for good.

Kingdoms fell and kingdoms rose. They lost Elros to the fate of Man, but his line still prospered in Númenor where he'd become the first king of the land.

Elrond chose the fate of the Eldar, and grew to be fast friends with his foster brother Ereinion Gil-galad.

Elarinya became the High Queen of the Sindar and Teleri Elves, following her father to the throne. High Queen at last, though without the golden king she'd seen in her vision. But Doriath was gone anyway, despite her best efforts.

But her people survived, and it was for those people that she fought.

They were nomadic for a while, searching for the perfect spot to build their new kingdom. Together with her little foster brother and nephew they searched Ossiriand and eventually founded a new city in Lindon.

Their new home.

Maedhros and Fingon had abdicated in favor of their son, and were currently traveling across Arda as they recovered and healed from their many wounds, mental and otherwise. Elarinya wouldn't be surprised if her foster parents chose to sail sometime in the near future. If there was anyone who deserved the healing that Aman gave then it was Maedhros Fëanorion.

Maedhros had admitted to missing his mother, Nerdanel something fierce. Fingon too had family waiting for him in Valinor, but for now they stayed for their son.

Cirdan also searched Lindon for a spot to build, and eventually he found that spot. Close to the sea the ancient elf founded an elven settlement he named the Grey Havens. The harbor was beautiful and Elarinya and Lindariel loved to visit her distant relatives there.

Oropher had chosen to found a new kingdom in her name. The elf was grief-stricken with the loss of his wife after the War and he had begged to be let go. He needed time. He needed a new purpose. Elarinya had granted the request of her loyal subject, and so the small group of elves went off to find new lands for their beloved High Queen. El took over the care of Oropher's young son for a while, by then well-used to taking care of elflings.

But soon enough Oropher was ready, and so a pouting Thranduil had to say goodbye to his Queen and new friends.

El visited the Woodland Realm often, splitting her time between the breathtaking forest and city they'd build in Lindon.

With Gil-galad as the High King of the Noldor and Elarinya as High Queen of the Sindar they ruled as equals over the West. Elrond became their steward, though his heart - just like with his aunt - lay with the healing arts.

Lindariel became their general for a while, though she enjoyed training the troops a lot more than leading them. Being the born warrior that her best friend was, she earned the respect of everyone wherever she went. She quickly took Hanneth's son under her wing. The boy took after his father and quickly rose through the ranks. El did her best to make time for the boy, to tell him stories about his parents and just be there for the fatherless elf.

It was hard.

They were a war torn people and none of them were truly prepared to deal with the consequences of the long war they'd fought in. They had lost their homes, their loved ones.

She never stopped missing her family, her sister and her parents. But her parents had chosen wisely. They'd needed to heal. Sailing West was the only choice left for them.

They'd raised her well, and she was ready to rule.

She missed Glorfindel still, though sometimes she dreamed of him. She missed all her friends, for many had passed in the War of Wrath. Dear Thalion had fallen first, protecting Thingol from a deathblow and leaving behind a grieving wife and a barely of age son.

Then Lothiriel fell in Melian's defense, making Lindariel an orphan and El's mother mourned the loss of her best friend. Amras and Amrod fell to Ancalagon. And Curufin too, though she really wouldn't have called him a friend. She grieved for his son though, who was a dear friend to her.

Celebrimbor was devastated by the loss of his father and disappeared in his forge in Eregion for a long while. Working out his grief in their shared craft, they supposed.

They all grieved in some way. They mourned and cried. Raged and cursed. They hid amongst nature, and ignored their feelings before falling apart all over again. They wrote songs and legends, crying all the while. All the Elves grieved in their own way.

But then they dusted themselves off and rebuilt.

Elarinya created a new home for her people, made new laws and ruled with a fair hand. She made the best of what they had and her people loved her for it. Queen Elarinya Aistana the Blessed. Their silver queen.

It was peaceful for a long while.

Then a mysterious elf came to Lindon, claiming to be a visitor with gifts for the Rulers of the Elven Realms. He was charming, and beautiful even for one of the Eldar. But neither Gil-galad nor Elarinya trusted the unknown elf. There was a hidden darkness in him that worried them both. They decided to be cautious.

And thus the powerful and mysterious visitor was refused entry.

His name?

Annatar.


A/N: Thank you all for those wonderful reviews! I very much enjoyed reading them.