To Travel With Wings

The very next day saw Glorfindel, Elrond, and a host of warriors away to fight Orcs. Celebrían was strong, but Silnar could see the tightness around her eyes that betrayed worry and anxiety. Reaching for her, Silnar clasped her dear friend's hand. Celebrían squeezed slightly, acknowledging the offered strength and comfort.

The remaining Eldar watched the departing warriors until even their dust had faded. Silently, they went about their general chores, pushing their grief into their work. It was always hard to watch the parties leave for battle. It was always true that some would not return.

Silnar threw herself into hard, domestic work, washing away her pain and grief. If Celebrían noticed, she did not say. The memories of that night were always fresh in Silnar's mind. It did not matter how much work she did, how tired she was; every night she would walk the paths to that memory and relive it. She would wake, with tears on her face and pillow.

It was a few weeks later that the course of Silnar's life began its change. The sun was hidden behind heavy clouds that threatened a warm, spring rain. Celebrían and Silnar had already decided on a walk in the surrounding forests and would not be denied. Since neither wished to leave Imladris unguarded, they declined an escort from the few warriors remaining. It had been fairly quiet and both felt competent to handle any problems.

The morning began wonderfully. The two friends strolled through the trees, randomly selecting flowers to adorn their hair. The war party was expected back any day and Celebrían could chatter only about Elrond. Silnar decided that she would be happy to see Glorfindel once more, even if their relationship was over.

Her heart was still torn to think of them as separate. Their love had seemed fated, meant to be. It had started out so strong and Silnar finally believed she had achieved her destiny. Why? Why had she allowed silly emotions to keep her from her heart's desire? It made no sense!

"Silnar?" Celebrían asked softly, halting her footsteps. "Do you hear anything?"

Silnar paused and listened, her eyes slowly widening. "I hear nothing," she whispered, tightly grasping Celebrían's hand. "Which worries me. Slowly, and quietly, let's return. There is something not-"

Her words were cut off by the whizzinund und of an arrow zipping right beside her head, strands of hair flying from the speed. "Never mind, run!"

The two scooped up their skirts and ran like the wind for Imladris. They raced silently, hoping to lose their predators in the foliage. More arrows began to fly through the air, indicating their failure. The atmosphere was suddenly filled with the crude smell of sullied bodies.

"Halt," Silnar whispered. "We are surrounded."

Celebrían's chest heaved with the need for breath and calm. "I am frightened, Silnar. Are they...Yrch?"

Silnar slowly nodded and Celebrían stifled a moan by squeezing her hand. "What are we going to do? We are going to die! Oh, Elrond..."

"Silent, Celebrían, let me think!" Silnar had never been in such a position, weaponless and without help in the vicinity. How stupid could she truly be? She should never have left Imladris unarmed and unaccompanied. Now, Celebrían would also pay for her stupidity.

"I know your thoughts, Silnar, and I too am to blame. We shall find our way out of this mess!"

The Orcs revealed themselves in all their grimy glory. Silnar could taste their foulness and memories of war came sweeping through. She saw once more, the armies of the Valar pushing back the tide of Morgoth and Gil- galad destroying Sauron's army. Shaking her head, Silnar forced herself into the present.

Theirclircling Orcs did not move once they had fully surrounded their captives. Several times, Celebrían held back the urge to empty her stomach. She had never before been so close to an Orc and she was repulsed. Finally, she forced her eyes to the ground, unable to bear the abomination standing before her.

A rustling in the trees captured both nissi attentions. A large, hulking Orc parted the ranks. He was old, but still strong and his eyes were wily and filled with something akin to wisdom. He smiled gruesomely, baring yellowed and decaying teeth. In harsh, guttural Westron he pronounced:

"Finally, I have her, the Lady of Lindon! You will pay, she-elf, for your indiscretions."

*******************************************************************

Sunlight streamed in through the opening of the tent, awakening its occupant. The slender elf was out of his cot in an instant, hurriedly dressing and combing his hair into some semblance of order. The eager elf raced outside still lacing his boots, much to the amusement of his friend who watched from his seat under a tree.

"Laugh as you will, Glorfindel," Elrond teased, "Soon you to will understand the eagerness with which I return."

Only his strength of will kept his smile on his face. Glorfindel did not want to think of home, or the eagerness he did feel. Despite the sorrowful departure, he wanted nothing more than to hear the soft voice of Silnar and to watch her graceful movements as she straightened their room. He sighed, long and deep, inside his mind. Not their room, not anymore.

Leaning his head back against the tree, Glorfindel wondered why he was denied that which he wanted more than any gift in the entire world. He had asked for nothing since his return. He had gone without a second thought when the Valar requested his protection. He had left his new life behind to once more hold death in his hands. Lowering his eyes, Glorfindel traced the silver point of his blade with soft white hands. Hands that were stained beyond redemption.

Glorfindel did not have to close his eyes for the memories to come, he did not have to even call them forth; they were always there. Every kill that he had ever committed was emblazoned into his heart and soul. Tuor had said that war and death would eventually becoming numbing, so that one did not feel much when faced with enemy. It had never been so for Glorfindel. He could remember every face of every kill. Every horrid, wrenching scream.

And then she came, as she always did, when the memories became to hard. She came with her dusky red hair and darkest eyes. Her voice would murmur sweet nothings and her hands would wash away the tension. The scent of her, the scent of a nis, would infuse his awareness with peace and love.

~Such sad thoughts.~

Glorfindel focused on the creature before him and blinked several times. He wasn't quite sure if she was real or just the result of no sleep. A calico cat sat on her haunches staring at him with light blue eyes. She licked her paw daintily before looking at him again.

~Wilt thou not even respond? I have gone great lengths to appear here!~

The pertness of her tone indicated immediately just whom it was that had deigned to speak with him. ~Forgive me, Kementári, I did not think the Valar troubled themselves with Arda any longer.~

~We don't. I am here of mine own accord. Certain events are not going how I wish them to so I have come to nudge them...just a bit.~

Glorfindel looked down upon the Vala with slight suspicion. ~Does Manwë know that you are here?~

~I'm certain he does. He will not say anything. I am Kementári and have domain over all that grows in Arda.~

Glorfindel decided it was best to agree with the person who could change him into a pretty golden flower if she chose. ~What would you have me demenementári?~

~It is of great importance that thou return to Imladris with all possible haste, Mallelóte.~

At the sound of his ancient name, Glorfindel leapt to his feet. He looked down and saw that Kementári had disappeared. Shaking off his stupor, Glorfindel beckoned to Elrond who was speaking with several of his advisors. The Lord of Imladris nodded and finished his conversation quickly before joining his friend.

"We must return to Imladris, Elrond, now."

Alarmed at the firmness of his tone, Elrond queried, "Why?"

Glorfindel was quiet before merely saying, "A warning in my heart."

************************************************************************

Celebrían did not know how many days she sat in the filth of her prison. Once the band of Orcs had led them to the caves they called home, the two nissi had been separated. Celebrían had no idea where they had taken Silnar, had no sense if she was alive or dead. The helplessness of her situation infuriated Celebrían to no end.

And it was then her thoughts would turn to Elrond. Oh, how frantic he would be. He would not know if they were dead or alive! She nervously twisted the ring on her finger and wished she knew if he could hear her thoughts. She had tried reaching out to his, but he was either to far away or she was not powerful enough.

A snuffling in the dark alerted Celebrían to another. She squinted in the dark and saw an outlined shape of a hulking beast. An Orc. Stifling a scream, Celebrían scrambled to her feet, backing into the rear of her cell. The nissi of Lothlórien had told her the cruelty Orcs showed upon Elven ladies. Celebrían wondered if the beasts had finally remembered she was there.

The Orc halted in front of her cell and opened it with the creaky twist of rusted keys. Celebrían winced at the high-pitched squeal and tensed her body for action. She would die before allowing this pig to touch her. One grimy, clawed hand shot out and grasped her upper arm in a painful grip. Retching from the awful stench that permeated from his unwashed body, Celebrían forgot to struggle as he dragged her up the stairs he had just descended.

He led her to a large cavern that was opulently decorated with all sorts of silks and jewels. Stolen, no doubt from any number of raids. The clash of bright colors sickened Celebrían and she tried to avert her eyes only to land on the ugliness of her captors. Sensing a presence unlike the evil that surrounded her, Celebrían lifted her eyes and gasped softly. Silnar knelt before the throne of the large Orc, chained to his seat. A heavy collar encircled her fair neck and her chains spread to her wrists, which lay useless in her lap. Despite days without a bath, Silnar still outshone all in the cavern and many of the Orcs refused to look upon her. In fact, many of them kept a wary distance. Celebrían wondered at the atrocities Silnar had faced.

Beside the large Orc sat one that must have been a female. She was lavishly clothed in jewels and silks, her greasy, stringy hair adorned with stones of red and blue. Her dark eyes dismissed Celebrían without a second thought, but rested with intense hatred upon Silnar. The large Orc beckoned to the guard grasping Celebrían and he shoved her forward so that she stumbled to her knees. A warning look from Silnar kept Celebrían from rising and attacking the filthy creature that dared treat her in such a callous manner.

"My newest pet has pleaded your case, she-elf. It is not usually my way to give my slaves what they want but the bargain we have struck is pleasing to me. I grant you your freedom, she-elf." He turned to an Orc who stood slightly behind him.

"See to it that the she-elf is sent back to where we found her. Make sure she does not remember the way here."

Shaking, Celebrían resisted when the Orcs tried to move her. "NO, I will not leave without her! I will not leave you Silnar!"

With cold eyes, Silnar looked at Celebrían who froze. Never before had such a look crossed her friends face. "There is nothing left for me. You will do as he says. Go back to Imladris, Celebrían. Go home to Elrond and leave me to my choice."

Swallowing hard, Celebrían whispered, "Your choice?"

Silnar never answered her. Impatient with the she-elf's hesitation to leave, the Orc slammed his fist into her head, knocking her unconscious. Closing her eyes tightly, Silnar did not watch her friends limp body dragged from the room. One day, Celebrían would thank her for this sacrifice. Elrond would fade if something ever happened to his wife and there was so much more left to do here, in Arda. Glorfindel was strong and would survive Silnar's 'choice.'

"A nice twist my pet," Gruz rumbled, careful not to touch his newest slave.

The crimson elf could not help but smirk. Poor Gruz! The unfortunate fool was denied his greatest wish, to cause her physical harm. Her eyes drifted to the foolish Orcs who had already tried, nursing burned hands in the corners of the cave. For some reason, whenever the Orcs wished to harm her, they would burn if they touched her. It was a lovely ending.

Beside Gruz sat his Queen, Ungrak. The female Orc hated Silnar with every bone in her body. She was a jealous female and to no longer have the attention of Gruz nearly caused physical pain. There would come a time, however, when this newest slave was not aware; then Ungrak would strike and kill the filthy whore of a she-elf. Ungrak was patient...very patient.