Danger

They say I'm dangerous. That one note of my song and they're destroyed. That I've killed orcs simply by singing to the blood that throbs in their veins and tearing it out of them. Even Thranduil, the most feared Elven General of all time, of all time, fears me. It's really quite humorous, because I don't think that I'm that terrible. That I'm something that they should fear quite so badly.

Maybe they should. Because they're right. I've killed before, I've killed with my song. I've killed with my hands. And I've killed with other things too. But something always stops me from massacring people. And that something is the very song that gives me such power. Eru gave me his song. He called me to it when I was so young. He showed me how to use it, to hold the pulsating note, to train the tickle at the back of my throat.

He showed me the darkness where he casts all those that defile his song away. I saw Morgoth there. I hope to see Sauron there one day. One day, not now. No, now, we're too busy fighting a long war.

But he's also shone me the light. No, he's showed me himself. He is the light. The shimmering, glistering, psychedelic tapestry of gemmed light that is pure and perfect. Unbreakable, can't be defeated. It's eternal. And I've seen all of it. Bathed in it, accepted it. Begged for it. Even now, in the darkest nights where my song is torturing some witless Orc, I'm crying out for it, longing for when no one needs to fear the darkness or the songs that haunt them in the dark. When the nightmares cease and the hell that Morgoth unleashed when he desired his song to be preeminent to his creator, well, that's all going to go to hell itself.

And I will be there. Because I'm one of the Allfather's children. I am his child.

The elves of Lorien shifted wearily as they waited on border guard. It had been many years, even in an Elven life-span since Orcs or evil things had attacked the realms of the Lady of Light. But the Lady had been disturbed for almost a year as Men counted it, and so the watch had been doubled, and their immutable faith in her put to the test.

Even Celeborn, the noblest and wisest of the Lorien elves, was starting to doubt his wife's fear. Nothing had happened. Not a scent of Orcs on the border. No trolls moving down from the North, even the Dwarves in Moria had been silent. Their ancient drills went deep, and not even Elven ears could discern them.

But still Galadriel feared something; feared that which was going to attack her borders. Feared those unknown and unnamed. Who were they?

Suddenly, the mood clouded over and Haldir, Marchwarden of Lorien, stiffened. The moon was full, it was a cloudless night. This should not have been happening. Yet there was a terrible scent upon the breeze of the mallyrn trees. He felt darkness, warm and foreboding, yet there was good in it all the same. He immediately gave a command that was echoed along the entire lines of defense, " No dirweg (be watchful)!"

Haldir held his bow close to him, though the heavy weight of his sword helped him feel reassurance. Everything within him, told him that this was no new enemy and that yet they were not prepared for what they were undertaking.

The birds had all stilled as the moon was covered and the breeze come to an end. Every Elf felt cold and still, aware that some great magic had entered into their realm. Someone was coming to challenge the power and supremacy of their Lady.

Just as she was thought of by every Elven warrior, the magnificent Lady of Light herself appeared and armed to the hilt. Literally. Her ancient sword Culdecco( Flame-colored spine) lay easily in her hand. She acted as though she had not come to the edges of her own land with her sword. She was aware, ready, but she was not frightened and she did not fear her assailant.

Haldir turned to face his Lady and bowed, yet still his eyes were trained upon the approaching misty cloud. " Trastad? (Is there danger?)"

Galadriel gazed at him, almost as though she were considering all the possible outcomes and then gave him a small smile, her golden hair dampening as the sun was culled from it. " Ui, al-iston. ( No, not as you know.)"

He sighed, facing the borders, unable to fight the forbidding thoughts that were galloping throughout his body. " Yet, there is trouble?"

" We will have trouble, but I do not think that we are in danger. I've been preparing for this. Everywhere she walks, one must be prepared for death."

Haldir was puzzled, " Who, híril-nín?"

Galadriel gave a potent pause as the birds began singing again, the fog released the moon from its prison, and the entire forest breathed again. " Lyellfirië, the singer of death."

That's right, I even had a really scary Quenya name, yet that name was the same in every Elven tongue. Lindguru was what the Sinda called me. The others well, one gets sick of learning how they pronounce your name.

But right now, I was going to face the she-elf who gave me that name. I had done a little piece of work while I was in Doriath, nothing much, just an entire army of Orcs who I literally killed. But I had needed to do it, I was commanded to do it.

Before this goes any further, no, I am not an assassin, no the Elves don't really hate me, and no, I'm not a psychologically damaged person because I have this scary power that's been nurtured by the Allfather. I was just happy, serving him, helping the Elves, having my place. And sometimes that means that I jump out of the fire into the frying pan, but I've never felt that he didn't want me to do a thing. Sometimes I won't do a thing because I know it's right and it gets me just as messed up in people's eyes as doing it.

But back to the reason why. Yes, I had caused the deathly stillness. I really wanted to make sure that Galadriel knew I was coming. Depending upon her, either she was completely unaware or she knew I was coming because Eru told her a good year before my appearance. Either way, I felt she deserved a warning, and the ability to look scary.

Ah, there she is now, beautiful, graceful and completely terrible. I like it. She's always been encouraging to me. Because she loves her people. She's a magnetic personality who draws children to her. She did me. I still remember when my brother first saw her. He had been scarred because of the Orcs, but she healed him, erased his wounds and gave him purpose.

Now he stands proud in the Hall of Fire, defending that purpose. I hope to see him again one day.

Her dress is gilt lace and on her waist is that fearsome sword that the Naucalië (Dwarf-folk) made for her before they desolated Menegroth for the Silmarils. I don't wonder that she's dressed so finely. Though she doesn't betray it, I know that she knows that Celeborn is waiting in the trees. Waiting for me. Waiting to see what happens. Nothing will. At least, until she hears my request. Then she just might used Culdecco.

Galadriel's eyes fastened upon the elf maid approaching her. She felt her aura long before she had even quieted the moon. For those attuned, who had seen the magical things of the First Age, she was a relic of times long past. When the magic of the Elves wasn't fading, and they were not contained in the Three Rings.

Lyellfirië is hardly what one expects from one named Singer of Death. She is slight, easily a very Mannish looking Elf. Her features are pale and subdued, her eyes a soft color of cygnet down. Her lips are thin and constantly pursed as though she is contemplating a note every minute. The dress that she wears however makes up for whatever she may lack in Elvish beauty. It is traced by the light of moon, the filigree causing even the slightest ray to strike it and become a lantern beam. The overlay of her skirt gives way to a satiny undergown, pale blue and trimmed with mithril bells that tinkle as she walks. Galadriel laughed, realizing that she must have muted herself as well as the forest. Her bodice is trimmed with silver ermine, and her long wine colored hair fell behind her in an autumn breeze.

Then she was before them and Galadriel extended her hand in the typical Elvish greeting. " Êl síla erin lû e-govaded 'wîn( a star shines over the time of our meeting)."

Lyellfirië smiled at her and exchanged the same greeting. Then she extended her eyes over the lines of the Lorien soldiers. " So much has changed since the last time I visited. So many are at peace now. I wonder."

Galadriel immediately focused upon her and tried to see if she could not trace the thoughts of her mind.

" Galadriel, you have long held my affections, but even so, I shall not allow you to trace my mind." Lyellfirië told her, her voice melodic, her voice unearthly, as though she had been raised in a different world.

" Lyellfirië-" Galadriel began trying to find something to refute her.

But she was immediately broken off when her husband came loping out of the woods. Self-composed handsome Lord Celeborn was running, his robes in disarray, and his eyes bright and eager as he looked at the elleth that had come to visit them.

" She was right, oh praise the Valar, she was right. Someone was coming!" He exclaimed as he came upon the elleth. Then, he stopped, quietly taking in every one of her features. Every one of those little quirks that he had known so well. And now she was here. Here in front of him, alive and just-alive.

" You know that I can comprehend all that you are thinking, my dear Gwadur( sworn brother)." Lyellfirië told him. She then gazed about them and motioned to Galadriel, " Híril-nín, perhaps we should go to the flets?"

Galadriel gazed at her, staring at her so deeply, that she almost didn't notice that her husband was looking at her pleadingly. But then she started, " Of course. Come along."

I was thrilled, positively thrilled to see that Celeborn was doing well. I'd have liked it even better if he should have embraced me, but I suppose he could only lose his composure so much. Still, it was nice knowing that I was missed.

Celeborn is my gwadur, my sworn brother, which means we have a bond almost as special as marriage. It means that we chose each other even when we did not have to. I still remember when I was pulled from the ruins of Gondolin, Tuor's attempt to make the horror of it all better. It didn't, but then I met Galadriel and Celeborn claimed me as his sister. I had lost my brother, his golden hair gripped in the Balrog's death grip as he was pulled to his death by that fiend that he had slain. Though of course, he was later reborn as one of the Eldamar.

And then, when I even doubted Eru's existence as nations I loved, as people I loved, as Elves killed Elves, suddenly he looked down from the singing heavens and Eru saw me. Iluvator claimed me, made me his, gave me a new name even as the Elves did so too. And that gift suddenly had power. And it was his, that he shared with me. That I was about to use. This dangerous gift. That could kill thousands, that was going to kill thousands.

Galadriel glanced at me once we had all been comfortably settled in a guard flet not far from the border. She knew that I hadn't come to visit, though once it would have been nice to do that. Maybe I would one day. But not this day.

" You know that I'm here for a purpose." I told her.

" You're never not," she replied, shooting me a wry smile.

" No, I'm never not. Thank you for complimenting me."

Celeborn rubbed his hand over his mouth, obviously trying to not laugh.

Galadriel once again gave me another look and then sighed. " What do you want of us?"

" I need you, to not attack." I told her, my eyes boring into hers, her heart and soul quivering.

" Attack what?" Celeborn inquired, his voice suddenly still and menacing. He always was a protector.

I sighed, " The orcs that are shortly about to overrun your realm. The dwarves have been cast out of Moria. Caradhras has played her final joke upon them. They awoke a Balrog."

Galadriel gasped and began pacing whilst Celeborn became sickly pale, his hand gripping his glass and trying to formulate exactly what I had said.

" And you wish for me not to exterminate this threat on my border, Lyellfirië?" She laughed at me, " Pennig chanas? ( are you mad?)"

"Nay, I am not mad, and my reason has not departed from my body. This has not been seen in the webs of Vairë and thus it is the will of Iluvatar that you leave to me the reckoning of this evil." My voice has grown terrible, and I'm aware I'm putting on my fearful gaze. I can't help it. There's a Balrog loose with plans to absolutely decimate this tiny little forest realm and then move onto the Elves of Rhovanion( Greenwood).

Galadriel gazes at me as though she suddenly considers me a threat and then she turns to Celeborn who is obviously trying to rationalize this entire situation. " You will not put my kingdom in danger. If you fail at all, Lyellfirië, my kingdom goes up in ashes and you will be a Kinslayer."

I place my glass down and gaze in Celeborn's eyes for a moment. " Goheno nín, gwadur( forgive me, brother), but Galadriel, you do not have choice. It is the will of Eru and as Erulírë, I shall follow through. You have no choice. I simply thought you should be aware, the mountain breaks open tomorrow."

Galadriel's eyes became twin flames that threatened to destroy me. Her hand immediately went to Culdecco and I knew that my head was in great danger.

A piercing note left my throat and Culdecco wedged itself into a corner of the flet and Celeborn gasped from where he stood, unable to move, unable barely to breathe.

Galadriel could breathe, too well. She screamed horrible epithets at me the entire time as I went out of that kingdom. I stilled the air, the elven guards could not hear me until I was too far away.

Galadriel was right about one thing though, one mistake, and the kingdom would be in ashes. Fortunately for her, I learned a long time ago, Eru might be dangerous, the greatest danger to anyone, but he never makes mistakes.

A mistake, this all had to be a terrible mistake, something that she could have foreseen and prevented. No, all Galadriel had had was an inkling that Eru was going to sent Lyellfirië to them. That she needed to be prepared. What she hadn't expected was being told her kingdom was going to be attacked by an entire mountain of goblins and that it was the Will of Iluvatar that she just be still.

Was that not why she had gotten her armies ready when she knew that the Singer was coming? Death always followed her. War and death, were her immediate companions. She knew that. All knew that. She was a danger, a deathless being who dealt in death. Whose single note could charm an entire kingdom and bring to their knees the most powerful elves to ever live.

No, Lyellfirië was a danger and had to be exterminated as soon as possible. Galadriel already knew that she was going to call up a council of the White and see what could be done.

Suddenly, the ground shifted and Galadriel knew the onslaught was beginning.

She heard Haldir shouting to his soldiers, " Gurth ani chyth 'wîn( Death to our enemies)!" The creaking of bows, the rasping of swords in their sheaths, this was what she had demanded last night. And she needed to see the enemy that she was going to fight.

She did so and felt all power leave her knees as she fell quaking from terror. For her people, for her realm, for her husband.

She felt Celeborn lift her up from behind and his astonished cry, " Truly the entire mountain is swarming with them? We are too few, even Erynion's armies could not destroy them."

Then the black fire and flame that signaled something worse even than the most rapacious orcs. The twisted, devilish horns, the thrashing tail, and tell-tale red-gold eyes that gleamed murderous even in the sunlight. And the sunlight itself was dwarfed by the terrifying creature that had exited the mountain.

A cry went up from the ranks, " Ai! A Balrog!" It was unanimous and the entirety of her soldiers were terrified. Riven in their ranks, petrified by something murderous and unstoppable. None of them, save three had been alive when Balrogs had freely roamed the earth, hunting in packs, waiting for Elves to fall amongst them.

Suddenly a whistle of music, a solemn processional sounded and Galadriel looked above her, trying to find out what exactly she was hearing. " Still so sure that you don't want to listen to Eru? He knows what he's doing."

Galadriel swallowed and then gazing at her husband and soldiers, she gasped out, " Are you sure you won't fail?"

Lyellfirië smiled, the smile of death to her enemies, " I might. But he won't."

And then with that, she leapt from her perch and sent a shining cover around the entirety of LothLorien. Galadriel felt it tingling alongside her own magic and for one moment she realized that she didn't need Lyellfirië to fight her battles. She had a Ring of Power. And just as suddenly, it came to her that it wasn't her battle. This was a fluke, something that shouldn't have happened, that Eru was going to obliterate by his Holy Weapon.

Lyellfirië faced the oncoming hordes and then smiled down at them. When she had risen in the air, none of the Elves really comprehended. " Now, you all know that I'm going to give you two choices. I beg of you accept the first. Here it is."

And then she began to sing and Galadriel's heart ached for it reminded her of the land of Valinor, pure and untouched as it had been for her when she was young, so many ages ago.

" Shining hills, glistening mounts,

All these I promise, all these I can give.

I am the Lord of the Mountain,

The Prince of the Stream,

King of every Life-giving song,

And in my hands flow rivers of blessing.

My life I bestow you,

Renewal of that song within you.

Though craven and tortured,

Soulless and heartless,

Still I see you and remember when

The blood of the Eldar flowed in your veins.

So lay down those arms

Fashioned for you by one whose cruel,

Forsake a master who creates only to kill,

Give up the past, embrace the love.

I swear by myself, it shall not fade.

Only accept me, Father of All."

Suddenly, gradually some of the Orcs laid down their weapons as the magic of the song flooded over them, Eru's mercy working wonders in their spirit, renewing and tearing out the heartlessness that had been and replacing it with his own dear chorus, his fëa within them. As the change was wrought, many of them began sobbing as forms, male and female separated. The Orcs that killed the Elves because they longed for such joys as they had, were renewed, made whole. The torture of the Avari undone in them.

But there were those who refused the gift of Eru, who proud as their masters before them, shook their head and taunted the Elf before them. Galadriel realized to her sorrow that it was the majority of the Orcs and the Balrog, who would have been restored to his Maïar form, that refused. And for the first time, her heart wept for the Orcs. And she came to know that Eru's mercy was infinite. That he had only ever twice destroyed a kingdom and never one of the Orcs. Only their masters.

Lyellfirië's eyes narrowed, and she stared down at those who did not accept the grace of her first song. " Those that have claimed the promise of Eru, come behind me." Her voice was distinct and terrible. A great threat billowing in it even as the wind picked up, the ground started to tremble, and the Elves moaned at the wrath that was felt in the air. It was done as she commanded and they were behind the shield she had put up.

Lyellfirië gazed down at the reticent and then she smiled, this time terrible and bloodthirsty. " Since you have not accepted the Gift of Eru, this second song is yours, my friends." And she began to sing, only this time it was black and terrible, magic pulsing through her veins and promises of misery growing with each menacing note.

" I am Lord of Every Mountain.

Every delving that can be known

I knew before it was created. So thus,

Since you refuse me, I shall torture those

Who taunt my grace and my messenger!

Behold the wrath of one who knows all.

Storms arise, cloud the sky, shift the sands.

Come down every breeze and go where

I command. Mountains, come undone, be made

Weak at the touch of my hand. Caverns open,

Release your hidden caves, prepare

Your dungeons, my prisoners await.

Thus I command, thus I speak to you.

Mercies denied, graces refused,

And this you shall know- Unending agony,

Terrible grief and suffering. Tortures eternal,

Because you are unwilling. And this

Mountain you sought to rule, shall be your

Prison, forever, and never shall you be free."

Galadriel shuddered as the ground quaked and the mountains literally pried themselves open as the song progressed. The winds came together in a terrible power and they pushed the attacking army before them. The sky stormed as cracks of thunder and lightening occasionally struck the stricken orcs and far less left that bloody field than had come on it. Then they disappeared, screaming and ravaged within the hollows cells of the mountain.

Amazingly, Lorien was untouched and Galadriel was aware that peace had descended even as havoc was being wrecked. Perhaps it was the two-fold sword of Eru Iluvator.

Galadriel hugged Lyellfirië and sighed as she pulled herself away, " Forgive me, my friend, I did not accept that Eru has chosen you has his weapon of destruction. I was a fool. Perhaps it is the fate of the Noldor to always be fools when it comes to Eru."

Lyellfirië laughed at her, mocking a little, but very glad that she could embrace her and feel no anger coming from her anymore. " Mellon, truly the path that Eru has placed me upon is so strange that even I cannot comprehend it. You are blessed that you are granted knowledge of the future. I have not such a gift. I must accept all that Eru grants me, no matter how hard or easy it may be. And it is never simple."

Galadriel smiled at her and then released a long breath. " You saved my kingdom. I was stricken, I could use no magic even if I desired it."

" 'Twas not the will of Iluvatar," Lyellfirië grinned. She then turned to say something to Celeborn who was grinning, but Galadriel pulled her back.

" Erulírë?" Galadriel queried. " That is the name you were given by him? Not Lyellfirië?"

Celeborn gazed at his friend's eyes and saw them cloud over just a little. " Yes, that is my true name. That which he calls me."

" Then I shall call you so also, and no longer shall you be the Singer of Death to my people. I shall make certain they know you are the Song of Eru. And Erulírë, come visit. Don't just come when you have a duty."

I can't help but laugh joyously as I left the border of Lorien. An occasional march-warden smiles at me and I can't help but notice that my feet aren't as heavy, I don't feel as disturbed as when first I came. I actually have a standing invitation to spend time with the closest thing to family. Well, Imladris doesn't count. Just don't tell my brother that.

It's truly nice being known for what you are. Even if that person is a dangerous, singing Elf who can literally command stones to rip themselves open. I don't ever try it on Elves, I promise, only Orcs. But even as I think that, I realize that I can't do any of that my own accord. It is Eru who is the power, I simply have the voice. And that does make me dangerous. And indeed I am Erulírë, a blessing, but just as much Lyellfirië, a Danger!

So that is the end of this story. No background here, just a little story that I liked. I've always had this idea of this singing Elf that could literally rip people's guts out. Didn't want to make it too grotesque and thought it'd be fun to play with Galadriel kinda having to give into another immensely power Elleth who could have every one love her and despair.

Lyellfirië literally means Singer of Death in Quenya. Erulírë means Song of Eru in Quenya. Both names are accurate to her station as a veritable weapon in the hand of Eru. It's my belief that she handles those things that never came up in the actual lore, weren't mean to happen, and were actually mistakes of Providence. Thus, she doesn't really exist, anywhere. But still she was fun, I liked her inner dialogue, and having Galadriel call her Erulírë made my day.

So please once again, review, vote, or just tell me you hate it. I want to know either way.

Live gloriously,

Jetta Lee