The Lady of Battle

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own created characters.


Prelude 2

Fire and Smoke

The warriors struggled to keep their enemy at bay. Elven swords glinted high in the sunlight with heat and smoke filling the air. The once beautiful courtyard with its extravagant statues and ancient, beautiful carvings was now a battleground littered with the bodies of great elves, fallen at the hand of these demons.

She stood at the edge of the tower, completely immobilized by the sight. In the center of the courtyard, there appeared to be a large crevice. She could not believe this entrance could have been accomplished in just the few, short moments it had been opened. The large noise she had heard must have been the means to which these intruders had accomplished it. She had no idea what magic this was at work.

There were hundreds of these grotesque beings piling in from the giant crevice; so quickly that it was a losing battle the elves were fighting. Fathers and sons, brothers, sisters, even husbands and their wives fought to save ground and drive these creatures back into the abyss they had come from. Her heart reached out as she witnessed the deaths of long friends and comrades. Fathers witnessed the deaths of their sons and daughters, husbands their wives; but still they fought valiantly and as she stood there, for those short moments, she watched legacies submit to death within moments; warriors which had resided there since the city had been called Ondolind`e, which in the ancient tongue, the tongue of the elves of Valinor, meant the Rock of the Music of Waters. They had survived the two great battles and lived only to fall on this treacherous day. This was an unbearable sight.

"Valar na elmenna!" (Valar, be with us.) The guard standing next to her was the first to break their shock. She turned to find him weeping silently. They all knew not what to do. She tried to calm herself inside and think.
{My family}

She turned to leave and was halted when she heard a noise unlike any, ever. She and all the guards next to her froze. She turned slowly; fearing to see what had made such a sound, and beheld an unnatural sight.

They were an abomination; large and hideous, she had never beheld any like them. They were the size of fifty elves and literally burned with rage. Their bodies were consumed in flame and any elf to make contact with them fell back in agony. They bore hove-like feet; long curved horns rose from their heads. They bore weapons of either mehtril or whips and with one thrust of their swords, were easily dispatching two and three elven warriors with each strike.

"Ulundo!" (Monster!), cried out one if the guards. Melisalda and the guards stood and wept as they witnessed the fall of one of the great ones.
Tuor, Lord of the White Wing) One of the twelve houses, ordained by the elven king Tergom to ensure the safety of the city) lead here by the mighty Veronw`e, and one of the original founders of the secret city, had just witnessed the fall of his first born son to one of these demons and in his despair he charged the creature only to follow his son to his end. They watched as one by one the warriors of this house rushed to aid their lord, and fell; their helms bearing wings in either side, their symbol, tumbling to the ground. Within those short moments they were gone.

Melisada let a gasp escape her lips as she watched these events unfold. She was lost.
{Do something!}
Without turning to the guards, she spoke.

"Many are dying to give us time. You must find as many nissi (females) and híni (children) and get them out of the city. Take the fourth gate, The Gate of Writhin Iron, and flee to the mountain pass." She spoke sternly and when they still stood she spoke again.
"Go, my friends, save them."

With unsure mannerisms, they turned to go but one elf stayed behind.
"My Lady?" She could see he wanted to know that she would do.

"I must find my family as well, Penlod, Lord of the House of Pillar." She faced him as she spoke and gave him something which she had never given anyone, save her lived ones; a small, reassuring smile through her tear stained cheeks.

He returned her smile and gently spoke.
"Nai Varda tye a nossetya tiruva." (May Varda watch over you and yours.) And quickly he fled toward his house. More tears stained her cheeks fort she had known this elf and knew his intentions. She knew he went to gather his weapons; he would go to battle and most likely fall, for he was Penlod, tallest of the Gondolindrim, leader of The House of the Tower of Snow, and he would see Gondolin safe or he would fall.

{I must find my father and mother.}

Her chest burned from the smoke as she raced to her father's house. The city was in turmoil. Elleths raced with their young ones, to any gate they could think of. From Melisalda's view in the tower she knew that they were running to their end and she began to try to guide them.
"á lasta!" (Listen!) She tried to gain their attention as they desperately ran in all directions.
"á lemya!" (Wait!) But they could not hear her. She could hardly hear herself over the noise of the battle. It was deafening.

After many attempts to help the confused elves she decided it was folly and started again to her father's house.

As she turned the corner to run onto the street where the house stood, she stopped and quickly darted back around the corner; orcs had entered her father's house. She stood with her back flat against the building and put her hands over her own mouth. She could hear the screams of the servants inside and knew that she could very well be hearing the torment of her family. Tears again; they ran down her cheeks as she struggled to push them back. Her body shook with rage and she felt completely helpless.

{What to do? Think}

She couldn't clear her mind. Of course she had been taught the arts of calming and control on battle, but it was not intended for your home to be the battle field and your young siblings to be your war-friends. All she could think of was her 20 year old brother, still so young and innocent. She had to find him and get him out! But as she stood there she knew she was too late. She could hear her sister screaming inside. And with that jolt, she rushed across the street to the other side, out of sight from the orcs who stood guard outside the door, and climbed the wall of vines to the second story window, into her own sleeping quarters. Once there, she searched for the sword her father had presented her. Once she found it, she crept to the door and leaned to listen. What she heard made her brow furrow in anger.

" Valar, vá!" (Valar, please no!) It was her mother's voice and by the sound of her mother's mourning cries, Melisalda knew her sister was gone.
{Outrage!}

Rage was all she knew and with that, she plunged through the doors and began an assault on the three orcs standing there. In five, miraculous forms, she had dispatched them and quickly knelt to her mother's side. Her mother sobbed uncontrollably. She gently put her hand on her mothers shoulder and her mother turned abruptly and crawled to the wall to cower to safety.

" Amillë ná ni! " (Mother, it is I.) She spoke softly but dared not advance her mother for it was obvious her mother would not have it. Her mother was not a Ohtare (female warrior); she had not had any training of the sort. She had simply been the lady of her husband and lord, and mother to his children. This made her soft and delicate.

She studied over her mother and realized she was nearly revealed, her gown having been torn off and ripped to shreds. She was desperately clinging to her clothes and was trying to cover herself with them; Melisalda knew that she had been violated.
She looked at her sister and saw that she lay revealed as well. But her sister, having been born with the same softness as her mother, had faded. She gently covered her.

"Ai, Nana." (Oh, mama.) She sobbed silently for her mother and sister. And as she looked into her mother's fear-washed eyes, she knew these events had broken her mother's sanity and she would never recover from this day.

"Nana?" (Mother?) She tried to reach her mother. But her mother didn't seem to recognize her. Melisalda knew that she had to find out where her little brother was, if he was still alive, and there was no time to delay. She dropped her head down and closed her eyes tight.

" So collenta." (Took him.) Her mother spoke through a disturbing tone which put fear in Melisalda's heart. It was the coldness with which her mother had spoke the words which upset her, nearly as much as its revelation.

" Yellonie essenya, ‘Salda." ( He was calling my name, 'Salda.) Her mother continued to say this with that disconneted tone. Melisalda collapsed onto her knees, to the floor and sat still for how long she knew not. He was just an elfling, so precious. He was a kind nature and could not survive what she knew they would do. The sadness was overwhelming. In these short moments, her family had been destroyed.
{Family.}

" Yassen atar a toron?" (Where are father and brother?) She was afraid to know the answer. Deep down she already knew the answer but she though that maybe mentioning their names would help her mother regain a bit of herself. Her mother's eyes glistened and her back straightened at hearing her husband mentioned. Melisalda could not believe it but she detected anger toward her father. She was confused.

" Mana, ammë?" ( mama, what?) Her mother turned her head away toward the window. She was not going to answer. But somehow, Melisalda understood. Her mother was blaming her father for their family's fate; and perhaps, rightly so. He should not have left them but his duty was his honor and he would fall defending it just as the others. It simply was not in their family's blood to flee.

Melisalda stood and walked to the doorway. She turned to her mother and spoke.

“Nai hiruvalme atar.” (We must find father.) Her mother calmly rose to her feet and weakly walked to her daughter. Slowly and gently, she kissed her forehead and in that moment, Melisalda knew her intentions. She meant not to leave. She had no desire to go on and if not killed this day, she would soon fade. Her mother's sad continence showed in her eyes; she had given up. The loss of two children in one day was more then her soft heart could heal.

Melisalda wanted to weep but somehow managed to just smile at her beloved mother and show respect for her decision. She turned and left the room. Although her back was turned she still knew that her mother had picked up the sword at her feet and retreated back into the room, closing the door behind her. Melisalda made her way down the stairs, knowing her mother's intentions, weeping silently as she readied herself to fight her way out.....


~~~~~~~~~

"Lady Brenauth." She had not heard the summands of the elf standing before her and kept her back turned to him. In a dry tone she replied.
" Man, pethron?" (Yes, historian.)

She was silently struggling to push back her previous thoughts and waited for his reply.
"There is a matter I would seek your council for. I have found a rather interesting encryption." He waited.

She turned and walked around her desk and the elf was moved by the grace with which she moved. Even after knowing her these five hundred years, he was still moved by her magic. He bowed slightly and stepped to the side to allow her to take the lead...

TBC

Author's Note:

Thanks for the reviews. They are what keep me going. As long as I know you are interested I will continue. Keep'em coming!