The Jewel of Mirkwood

Chapter 130

Glorfindel bent over the rain soaked map his hair hanging in wet tendrils down his cheeks as he tried to see through the torrent of water running down his face. Like a flood breaking the banks of the river the orcs had come. As unprepared and disorganised as they had seemed to the spies the army of black had made up for their shortfalls in sheer numbers and brute force. With the setting of the sun behind the rain clouds on the third day after Elrond’s arrival the war had begun. The sound of metal upon metal never ceased, the screams of the dying waking the already dead. Bodies now littered the muddy ground the corpses of elves barely recognisable beneath the stinking piles of orcs and mud. The rain had not abated drenching an already fatigued army with the weight of water. Along the front Glorfindel fought along side Elrond, Filgree and Erestor taking rest only when plans of action were to be discussed behind the so far unpenetrated elvish line.

The hope of Lorien and Mirkwood had not arrived and while they still clung to a prayer their kin would come in aid all knew in their hearts that Rivendell was alone in fighting this war.

To a degree Glorfindel’s surprise attacks from the east and west had worked taking out the orc archers who had led the attack, but as predicted the surprise force had been to little in number to truly be effective. Now wave after wave of attack hit the front elvish line. Where orcs were slayed more would appear seemingly as if from nowhere. None who were still able to wield a sword were taken from their posts despite their fatigue and injury. Elrond’s constant presents at the front line spurred determination in those who without him would give up. Elrohir too although never at the front, his presence in the makeshift healing tents kept spirits alive when death was all around. This night however the orcs had lessoned in their attacks the rain coming so hard it obscured any chances of hand-to-hand combat, giving the elves a little reprieve. With an opportunity not to be missed, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor and Filgree were now all bent over the sodden maps directing tactics that only years of war had taught them.

Out of the gloom of the rain however two lone riders came into view silencing the debates the Lords were having. Obscured by the rain neither Glorfindel nor Elrond could make out the figures until they were hovering above them on their horses, their heads down as the wail of arrows flew past them by mere inches.

“Elrohir?” Elrond was horrified to see his youngest son hovering above him having forbid him to enter the front line unless it was a matter of life and death to save himself. Yet herewas was with of all people a man from Gondor. “What? Has the race of men come to gloat? If you are not here to offer aid then go home warrior of Gondor.” Knowing that there was no remote chance the races of men would involve themselves with such a war Elrond spat nastily at the man without letting him speak before turning back to Elrohir with anger. “Return to the safety of the borders Elrohir, if the rain slows the orc attacks will intensify again and I do not want you here when they do.” Totally ignoring the man Elrond turned back to the maps and the discussion he was having with Filgree and Erestor. Glorfindel however remained standing staring at the horse the rider was upon a paralysing fear creeping into his body rendering him momentarily useless until he found his voice.

“The horse you ride where did you get it?” Elrond’s conversation with the other two elves halted immediately as Glorfindel questioned the man. Almost instantly Elrond recognised the bags and the leather saddle attached to horse the man currently sat astride, the blood in the elvan lord’s veins freezing in fear. The man astride the horse in question smiled distantly down at Glorfindel before removing a roll of parchment from beneath his cloak and handing it to the muddy blond.

”My Lord Yamalin keeps captive Legolas of Mirkwood and wishes to make a trade, your mate’s life for the union of Lord Elrond’s youngest born son to the steward of Gondor.” The human messenger paused and patted the neck of the horse he rode Iest snorting indignantly and trying to throw her persistent rider. “The horse I ride is Legolas mare and you can see for yourself the truth of my words for that is a lock of your beloved’s hair.” Glorfindel opened the parchment he had been given and sure enough a small few threads of Legolas golden mane fell into his dirty muddied palm. Elrond, Erestor and Filgree all watched on stunned as Glorfindel fisted his hand around the locks of his lovers hair anger flashing in his eyes like the very fires of the balrog he had once fought.

“Your Lord Yamalin takes many liberties in presuming I am in a position to negotiate such a trade.” Glorfindel’s voice darkened as he stepped forward towards Iest the human rider shifting nervously at the approach of the revered elf. “I have a message in reply for your Lord.” Glorfindel paused at the side of Iest and with a swift hand brought the unsuspecting rider to the ground on his back, so that the elf was now towering above the whimpering man. “I am Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin and no one trades the life of my mate.” As if lightening had struck the very point of his sword Glorfindel had unsheathed his weapon and with one foul swoop had taken the head of the man clean from his shoulders sending it rolling a few steps away into the mud. With little regard for what he had just done Glorfindel crudely wiped the man’s red blood from his blade with his hand before turning and pointing the sharp end at Elrond’s throat. “I have protected you and your sons since my rebirth Elrond of Rivendell and I have seen you make mistakes that have cost the lives of our kin but this my Lord is your last mistake. The life of my heir is in the hands of men because you did not know what to do when Legolas’ future hung before you. If Legolas or my child die because of your mistake Elrond of Rivendell I will end your life in the same manner in which my beloveds was taken do you understand me.” Elrond swallowed hard having never imagined he would be on the end of Glorfindel’s blade.

“Forgive me Glorfindel I can not and have never been able to see what is to come for him. From a babe I was not able to predict his future, I did not know what choices were right to make and I feared making the wrong ones.” Elrond bowed his head apologetically at his friend who sy loy lowered his blade from the elvan Lord’s neck and re sheathed it.

“You can not see his future because you like everyone else is blinded by the fear of him. You fear your own fate because of his yet you have no control over it. I do not care for what has been predicted in the writings of old. To me he is not the one to reunite the elvan realms he is simply my love and the one elf I want by my side for the rest of eternity…” Glorfindel was cut off abruptly as a wayward arrow from the front line wailed past Elrond’s cheek before embedding itself into Glorfindel leg piercing it straight though and making the elvan Lord screech in pain.

“Glorfindel!” Elrond, Filgree and Erestor all lunged forward to catch the elvan Lord who staggered backwards a little clutching the entry point of the black-feathered arrow that stuck out from his leg.
“The rain is slowing, they are coming again.” At Elrohir’s fearful call Elrond and Erestor look back towards the front line where as predicted the orcs were beginning their attacks again. Elrond swore in Quenya and looked back to where Filgree and broken off the arrowhead and was slowly pulling the long black stem free of Glorfindel’s leg. The legendary balrog slayer didn’t even seem to notice however his gaze turning blank as his hands drifted down to his stomach where they settled almost in aw.

With his bow now in hand Elrond was firing his own arrows into the incoming ones from the orcs, his attention drifting between the fighting and Glorfindel. Elrohir, Filgree and Erestor had also taken to arms firing and fighting back their worry for Glorfindel’s strange behaviour still taking their full attention. Glorfindel however stood frozen and completely unarmed in the middle of the field ankle deep in mud with arrows flying past him, with his hands still resting on his stomach.

“Glorfindel!” Fearing his seneschal and best friend was suffering from a poisonous arrow Elrond screamed Glorfindel’s name desperate to get the blondes attention if only so he could defend himself. The scream seemed to have the desired affect and Glorfindel’s gaze cleared again as if nothing had happened Glorfindel swung up onto Iest and took to his own arms charging forward to where Elrohir and Elrond were now defending themselves at the front. The pain in his leg seemed so insignificant it hardly bothered Glorfindel as he drew up alongside Elrohir and Elrond and began kicking and slashing at the orcs which attacked him.

“What was that Glorfindel? Are you well?” Having to shout to be heard above the screeches of the orcs and roar of the rain Elrond addressed his friend in serious concern, all the while still slashing and hacking at anything and everything that moved.

“It has begun Elrond, I heard him call my name. It is time.” Confused by Glorfindel’s strange statement Elrohir rounded his own horse between his father and the seneschals to ensure his safety from the incoming fire.

“What has begun Glorfindel?” Elrohir voiced the same question that his father was thinking and was shocked as Glorfindel vaulted easily from Iest onto Elrohir’s horse before throwing Elrohir onto the back of Iest with a strength the younger elf had never seen in his tutor before. For the first time Elrohir had seen a small flash of the strength that Glorfindel had used to slay the balrog.

“Legolas, he has gone into labour. He calls my name with every contraction he feels, you must find him Elrohir and free him from the hands of the men before it is too late.” Elrohir looked shocked across at Glorfindel before glancing at his father who merely nodded understandingly all the while fighting the orcs, which swept across the plains. “Go to the eastern borders for none would have come from the west. The men must have a camp nearby if they sent a messenger and expected a quick reply.” Elrohir listened carefully as Glorfindel continued to scream instructions to him from where he was defending Lord Elrond as he had done all his life. “Be careful Elrohir and take to the mountains when you free him. Find Mithrandir and take care of them for me.” Again Elrohir nodded but before he could say anything his father was slapping the behind of Iest with his sword sending the chestnut mare galloping at full pace away from the front and the carnage that was happening. Glancing back at the front line Elrohir could not longer see his father or Glorfindel at all amongst the swarming sea of black orcs and while he felt pained that he could not stay and fight alongside them he knew that Legolas needed his help too and Elrohir silently vowed he would not stop until he found his friend and freed him from his captors. With one last look back at the battlefield Elrohir headed up into the forest on the eastern boarder of the plains his eyes seeking the men who dared take on the last hope of the elves….

TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>