The Music in My Heart

Title: The Music in My Heart, Chapter 57
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: PG-13, but ratings will increase in future chapters
Warning: AU (Story set 770 years after ROTK); Some slash, but mostly het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; fanfiction
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle-earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle-earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle-earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.

Reviews would be deeply appreciated!

Chapter 57 --- The Only Certainty


“In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.”
Pliny the Elder

*****

Elrond pulled Kaane to a halt and surveyed the lush vegetation that grew along the banks of Nen Hithoel, the lake veiled by a deep mist that had long ago inspired its name. Barely visible in the dense vegetation, lay the path to the ruins of the abandoned Gondorian watchtower of Amon Hen, the Hill of the Eye. It had been many millennia since he had last visited this remote corner of Gondor, but the sight of the Argonath, even when viewed from the backside, had not lost its ability to resurrect painful memories of Mordor and the two Kings it immortalized.

Turning from the sight that was causing many in their company to stare and point in wonder, Elrond began to pick his way amongst the fallen columns and knotted trees eager to put the image of Isildur behind him. While he would always hold Elendil in great affection and respect, such was not the case of the cold, brash mortal whose weakness and desire for power had led to so much suffering. In the peredhel’s heart, he still blamed Isildur for that suffering and the many deaths that followed… the last of which was his beloved child, Arwen.

Frowning, he ignored the grumblings from those that had hoped for a brief stop… to bathe in the lake and admire the monumental achievement of those that had crafted those images. He wished nothing more than to find the entrance into the North Stair so that they could begin the search for yet another site marked on their map. Sweeping right to round the rise of the Hill of the Eye, he let memory led him to the entrance to the portage-way to the lower ground beneath the Falls of Rauros.

The peredhel had become quite adept at ignoring the grumblings of one group or another in the three weeks since they had left the safety of the Gondorian garrison. As they had marched in search of the other sites marked on the map prepared from Seere’s vision, arguments over all manner of issues had become a part of their daily life. The limited success they had experienced after their achievement at the first site had done little to improve the situation. At the five sites they had since visited, only a small cache of documents had been found at a site near Fangorn Forest in Rohan.

After much debate, the leaders had agreed to send them to Minas Tirith to be reviewed by the group of scholars working there. What should have been obvious had become controversial when an advisor from Mirkwood had joined with the dwarves and the delegation from Rohan to argue that too much of this sensitive material was being given to Gondor. The fact that Minas Tirith and Imladris were the only cities in Middle-earth with the scholars and the library necessary for their review and analysis had been lost in petty squabbling that had ensued.

The incident had underscored the escalating tension among the various representatives to the ‘committee’ leading the expedition. As he had feared from the outset, without a single leader in command, the ancient rivalries and distrust between the various peoples had slowly begun to erode the harmony and goodwill that had marked their first weeks of travel. The constant harassment from small bands of Yrck, Uruk Hai and Easterlings had worn tempers raw and the warriors under them had begun to feel the strain of the growing divisions.

Sighing with frustration, he leaned forward to study the path before them. Elrond felt his spirits rise as he found no signs of recent travel in the area. /Of course, this could mean the Hordes collected whatever was here long ago… or that they came from the south. Still, tis more encouraging than most of the other sites we have visited./

“I see not signs of travel along this path in… many decades. The vegetation is quite thick and new trees have grown in the path that bespeak of years of undisturbed growth,” Glorfindel observed, having taken position to Elrond’s right.

Trading a strained smile with his Seneschal, he nodded. “Aye… I would agree. Perhaps, we will find this site worth our time to investigate.”

“They have all been worth the time to investigate, my lord. If we had not gone, how would we know they had already been looted? Then too, our ‘committee’ agreed to these sites as our itinerary before we left Minas Tirith… though many now seem to forget that fact,” he wryly added.

A snort of amusement was Elrond’s only reply. Edging forward, he peered down the steep switchback path of the ‘stairs’. “I see no reason to delay our descent, but I know I will hear complains if I proceed without giving the rest their chance to approve this course.”

“Likely. As the day grows late, perhaps this would be a good place to make camp for the night… or will that require committee approval as well?” Glorfindel mocked.

Signaling for those behind him to carry word that they had reached the entrance to the North Stair, the peredhel dismounted. “As you know the answer as well as I, I will save my breath for the coming debate.”

*****

Elrond leaned against a tree near the top of the falls, his back deliberately turned to the view of the lake and the towering gateway beyond. He had hoped that the sound of the waterfall would cool his anger. The simple decision to make camp for the night before beginning the descent to the East Emnent has resulted in yet another long and divisive argument. By the time they had reached an agreement, Elrond had expended the last of his self-control. He had quickly retreated into the woods in search of a moment’s solitude and peace.

“Our mission stands on the verge of failure due to this endless bickering, does it not, Adar’ra?”

Glancing up, he studied the look of frustration on the man’s face. “Aye, it does… but you already know this, Ara. What are you really asking me?”

Sighing, the Gondorian prince moved over to sit beside the elf lord. “You remind me of my mother. She can always see through my motives when I am avoiding asking a difficult question.”

Staring out across the deep gorge before them, he watched the Anduin roar and tumble over the falls. “I envy the river… it has these falls to vent its anger.”

“Indeed.”

“Why did you wait to halt the company until you were well past the lake? So many would have enjoyed a swim to ease their mood… it would have been good for morale,” the prince observed.

“And you think my reasons were more than the desire to move us along to the next site so that we may finish our work as soon as possible?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that? Is not it in the best interests of the expedition to move quickly so that we improve our chances of getting there before the Hordes?”

“Logical… but is it not also important to the expedition for morale to be maintained?”

Turning to study his distant grandson, Elrond smiled. “You remind me of Celeborn when you do that.”

“Hannon le, Adar’ra. I can think of no finer compliment.” Picking up a leaf, Aranuir began to spin it by its stem. “Does the sight of my forbearers still cause you such grief?” (Thank you, Grandfather.)

Sighing, Elrond stared back into the mist of the falls. “I hold Elendil in the highest regard. He was a great and noble king… a warm and generous friend.”

“And his son?”

Frowning at the question, Elrond hesitated for a moment before answering. “Isildur was everything his father was not. I saw too many die… suffer for his folly and arrogance. I have nothing positive to say of him.”

Nodding his head, Aranuir commented, “Many did die because of him… including your daughter.”

“Yes. Had he done as I urged, the fate of my family, as well as that of this world, might have been different.” Reaching over, Elrond laid his hand on the prince’s arm. “I miss her, Ara. That does not mean I do not rejoice in my kinship to you and your family… nor does it change the deep love I have for Estel. He was my son and I miss him too.”

“I have… wondered how you feel… what you think when you look upon my family. We owe our lives to her decision to accept mortality so she could marry him.”

“You are the living proof she made the right decision. I see them both in you and your kin. I hear their joy and happiness in your laugh. I see the fire of their spirits in your eyes… your heart. I have no bitterness in her choice… I simply miss my children,” he confessed. “She… they were so very dear to me… as are you and your kin.”

They fell into a companionable silence, soothed by the roar of the falls. “Hannon le, Adar’ra. I had wondered.” (Thank you, Grandfather.)

*****

“My lords… we have found an entrance to a cave under the falls.”

Looking up from the map he was scanning with Glorfindel and Celeborn, Elrond asked, “A cave… under Rauros? Is it large enough to be our cache?”

“It appears to be, but we have not yet entered as Prince Aranuir thinks it best you view the site before we disturb it.”

Nodding his head, he quickly folded the map and returned it to Glorfindel. In a low voice that would not carry to the waiting guard, he murmured, “This is… unexpected. I have never heard of a cave under the falls nor did we find one when we mapped this area for the High King. Then too, Ara has never delayed entering a site before. I wonder why.”

The three elf lords wasted no time in following the young warrior down a winding trail that had been cut into the steep slope east of the ‘Stair’ by the Gondorian soldiers to a sheltered beach near the bottom of the falls. As they descended, Rauros’ roar became deafening. A thick, heavy mist hung in the air as the rushing water pounded into massive boulders, sending showers of water outward in a steady haze.

Rounding a bend in the path, Elrond spotted Ara and Erestor near the wall of the gorge, staring into a small opening near the ground. Sensing their approach, Erestor turned to greet them. “Elrond… this cave, it is a mystery. It was not here when we last surveyed this area for the High King. Of this I am sure, for Lindir and I were the ones that searched this area. We were particularly looking for caves, as you know, as possible places of safety and refuge. I would not have missed it.”

“I remember, meldir, but that was over four thousand years ago. Perhaps this opening has been made by the wind and water over those long years,” Elrond suggested, kneeling down to peer into the darkness. To his amazement, the torch Ara was holding near the entrance failed to shed light into the interior. (friend)

“Perhaps…” the counselor replied, a doubtful look marking his face. “Still… Ara and I sense a malevolent presence that taints this area. Do you feel it as well, my lord?”

Frowning at the waves of hostility and anger assaulting his senses, he lifted his eyes to meet Erestor’s. “Indeed. It is as though the very air is alive with… malice. Odd… the evil that has touched this place has no likeness to any I have ever encountered. It is not like the aura that Sauron left behind at the first site. It is old… but not ancient.”

“I am sorry, Adar’ra, but what does that mean? I feel… uneasy in this place much as I did at that first site, but I see nothing… understand less,” Ara confessed, his frustration and discomfort evident. “Do you have vision as you did in the fishing village?”

“I am afraid it does not work like that, ion. I cannot summon visions on command… they come to me unbidden. I sense that someone consumed with anger and hostility passed… lingered here for some time, but I do not see… anything.” Looking over his shoulder at his Seneschal, he suggested, “I would like to investigate this cave. If…” (son)

“Nay… it is a trap!”

*****

Startled, the small group looked up to see Elrohir running down the narrow path from above. “Ada… Seere has had a vision. She saw a cave under the falls and you were preparing to enter. She saw bodies… skeletons scattered on the floor!”

“A vision? What more did she see?” Elrond demanded, as he jerked away from the cave entrance.

Reaching out to grasp his father’s shoulder as he skidded to a halt at the bottom, Elrohir took a steadying breath. “I know not. She returned from her vision and gasped that you were in danger. What I have said is all I waited to hear as I had seen you disappear down this path with Adar’ra and Glory. I could not risk taking the time to hear more.”

“Well done, ion. Ara, can I suggest you post a guard on this entrance and allow none to enter it until we talk to Seere?” Celeborn urged. “If she has had a vision, we had best have that information before we proceed.” (son)

Already half way up the bank after hearing Elrohir’s report, Elrond added over his shoulder, “Glorfindel, call our warriors to battle alert. I do not want to be caught unawares if there is any possibility of an imminent threat.”

Cresting the rise, Elrond scanned the area for his betrothed. Seeing her running toward him, he opened his arms to catch her against him. “Elrond! I saw a… that cave is evil! To enter it is to die!”

Pulling her tightly against him, he gave her a moment to calm down, knowing from personal experience that a vision can leave the seer reeling as surely as an actual event. “I am safe, beloved. Elrohir arrived before I could enter the cave. I am safe… your vision and his quick actions saved me.”

Sagging in relief, she reached up to pull his head down for an urgent kiss. Sighing against his lips, she whispered, “I saw those bodies… skeletons and felt the evil of that place! My uncle used magic… there is no way out, once you enter.”

Pulling back, Elrond fixed her with a probing stare. “Your uncle? You are sure of this?”

“Aye. I saw him in the cave. He was digging by the light of a torch and found a small chest in a pit near the back of the cave,” she began. “He opened the chest and started to laugh… it was a horrible laugh. He began to shift through the contents. Lhach took several scrolls and a very small box… like a trinket or jewelry box, from the chest. He placed the scrolls in a knapsack.”

“What then, Seere?” he prompted as she fell silent.

The seer’s eyes had lost their focus as the memory of the vision replayed in her mind. “He was laughing again and he had a look of supreme satisfaction on his face. He closed the chest and sat down on it, still laughing. He reached up to his throat and pulled a chain from underneath his tunic… a small key was on the chain. It took him several minutes to get the box to open… he was muttering something in a language I do not know, but I think it may have been Black speech for it hurt to hear.”

“There was something in the box… it gave off a strange green glow. He stared at it for long minutes, as if mesmerized by the sight… an evil, twisted smile on his face. He reached inside to touch whatever it was, but pulled his hand back at the last second… like he feared being burned.” A shudder racked her body as she continued. “He said, ‘He will regret the day he chose to discount me! I will find the touchstone and then… nothing, not even the Valar, will be able to stop me!’ He finally closed the box and put it with the scrolls in his pack. He then reburied the chest in the pit.”

“A green glow… like the glow you have seen in your other visions of your uncle? The ones of the smooth grey stone that emitted the eerie green light?” Elrond pressed.

Slowly, Seere nodded her head. “Aye… very like that, but I did not see inside the box, so I cannot say that was what it contained.”

“You say your uncle reburied the chest in the back of the cave? You are sure of this?”

“Aye. He set the knapsack by the entrance and reopened the chest. He sorted through the contents one last time before he closed and locked the chest. He put the key on the chain with the smaller one and muttered a charm over the lock. I do not know Black speech, but the language was foul and loathsome to hear.” Holding Elrond’s gaze, she finished. “He set the chest back in the pit and hurriedly refilled the hole to bury it. Once he was done, he put a short camp shovel into the sack with the rest and settled it on his back. By the door, he had left a long staff… like the ones in the drawings of my grandfather and the other Istari in the history books at home. He paused at the entrance and once again spoke while pointing the staff at the opening in the same evil tongue.”

“Then, he laughed and said… ‘Enter all who wish… but you will never leave.’ The vision then changed from Lhach to what lies inside there now. I saw the skeletons of men… or perhaps elves and the bones of animals scattered across the floor.” A tear ran down her pale cheek as she added, “If you had entered, you would not have been able to get back out!”

*****