The Music in My Heart

Title: The Music in My Heart*, Chapter 62 (betaed)
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating:.NC-17 for future chapters
Warning: AU (Story set 770 years after ROTK; Slash and het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF
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.


Chapter 62--- Our Doubts of Today

“The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.”
Franklin Delano Roosevelt


*****

Elrond woke early the next morning holding Seere cuddled close to his side. Both had been exhausted by the demands and strains of the previous day. They had fallen asleep after he had finished tending her knee. Looking down at the elleth in his arms, his heart lurched as he remembered the lost, hurt look that had filled her eyes as she had sat alone by the fire. That she loved him enough to forgive him without hesitation moved him deeply, stirred an overwhelming need to protect her from further hurt.

Being careful not to wake her, he bent to press a kiss to her forehead. Seere sighed in her sleep and nuzzled her face against his chest in response. Smiling he let his head rest against hers, leaving her to wake when she was ready.

While it was still dark, he knew there were eyes watching from around their campsite. Of course, quite a few had been watching his every move since his courtship of Seere became known. The difference today was they were making no effort to hide the scrutiny, the concern, and, ultimately, varying levels of disapproval. He had failed her once and her protectors were split as to whether he deserved another chance. They had made their feeling very clear the night before.

In truth, Seere had not been angry with him; she had been hurt and confused. She, however, had been the only one not mad at him. Elrond had understood their reaction and, if he had been one of them, would have felt the same. She deserved better. Luckily for him, Seere loved him and was willing to forgive his foolish behavior. He only hoped he deserved her love and loyalty; that he was able to live up to her belief in him.

A gentle hand touched his cheek and drew his eyes down to meet hers. The love and contentment he read in her golden eyes robbed him of his breath. “Quel amrun, melme. Why do you look so sad?” (Good morning, love.)

Sighing, her elf lord began, “I let you down, ind nîn. I was more concerned with my petty grudges when I should have been supporting you. I am so sorry Seere! I do not…” (my heart)

The hand caressing his cheek moved to press a finger to his lips halting his apology. “I seem to recall this conversation from last night and that we resolved it then.” The hand then slide around to the back of his neck, stopping briefly to run a tender caress along the shell of his ear.

Tugging gently, she pulled his face down to her own. Against his lips, eyes locked with his, she whispered, “Elrond, my love, if you are sincere in your desire to marry me, we must agree that there will be times in our future when one of us will do or say something that hurts or angers the other. I know this as well as you.”

A soft kiss teased at his lips before ghosting across his high cheekbones to his right ear. “If the matter has been discussed and a sincere apology offered when owed, then that is the end of it, beyond seeking not to repeat the hurt.” A faint nip to the ear lobe and the wondering lips trailed back along their path to brush a second kiss over lips now hungry for stronger contact.

“But, if it’s the making up you enjoy so much, I suggest we skip the repeats on apologies and go straight to the kissing.” Another tug to his neck ended the discussion.

*****

The tense atmosphere at breakfast set a tone for the day. Not everyone was happy to see that, rather than driving a wedge between the two, the events of the proceeding day had drawn the pair closer together. That several had observed the tender scene between the two had not helped.

Adding to the tension were differences in opinion as to where they should go next. A group, lead by Elrohir, argued that it was vital that they continue to the next location marked on the map drawn from Seere’s dream. Others felt it was critical to return to the nearest friendly city, Osgiliath, to allow the ‘returned’ an opportunity to decide what they wished to do with their recaptured lives. They argued that additional supplies, horses, and weapons were needed for those that elected to join their force. Elrond and Erestor supported this position as they wanted to take Seere to the city for her safety. A third group pushed to find a secure location near at hand and reevaluate all the information now available. Prince Háma and several of the Mirkwood elves were pressing for this option.

As no consensus could be reached, the third option became the only viable plan; their current location was far too vulnerable. Henneth Annûn was a day’s hard march to the south, southwest. In the years following the Ring War, a small city had grown in the vale below the waterfalls that had long sheltered the rangers. For a time, Legolas had led a large colony of elves from across Middle-earth in the woods that surrounded it. The fortified complex had grown in the centuries that followed and was currently under the rule of the Prince of Ithilien. The decision to march there was swiftly made and the expedition began to break camp.

A stirring of dissent was heard in the whispered comments drifting around the campsite as supplies were packed away, water skins were refilled at the nearby creek, and ranks were formed for those that would march. The return of those trapped in the Dead Marshes had served to unite all for a short time, but even that miraculous event had begun to take on different meanings to different interests.

Many of the returnees were beginning to confront the reality that they had been trapped in the half-life of the marsh for over 4000 years. While this was disquieting for the elven warriors who experience time from the perspective of immortality, this was a length of time comparable to an entire age of Arda, time they had missed. It existed outside the known precepts of their world --- the dead went to Mandos and the living simply continued to live --- 4000 years caught between living and dying left them groping for answers.

For the mortals, immortality was an abstract concept that would never apply to them. They had no basis for understanding the passage of so much time and yet they lived. The memory of their lives had been largely forgotten by successive generations that had been born and died while they hovered in the marsh. Their families, friends, and homes had long since passed away as was the way of the mortal world. They had no present to call they own and their past was long since gone.

Those that had joined in the singing that had helped bring the song of Eru back to those long denied its joy and comforts were still feeling the effects of their experience. While they had all been taught that Eru’s song was still sung, none had actually ever heard it… heard the voices of the Valar. They were also trying to make sense of those suddenly back amongst them --- they had no experience and no guide in how to handle the jumble of emotions and fears that swirled around the camp.

The present day warriors were also reeling from the repeated attacks from the Hordes, a state that only made them more uneasy about their mission. Something evil was at the heart of this and little was known about its purpose. The items collected at the various sites thus far had reeked of evil and they left those that had come in contact with them uneasy. That there leader of the Hordes was likely an elf or maybe an istar only increased the distrust between the different forces.

With no one figure toward which they could focus their trust and loyalty, factions were inevitable. There was no Elendil or Gil-Galad to rally behind and follow. That lack unnerved the heart of a warrior. That the returnees kept pointing to the elleth and saying she was Gil-Galad reborn was frightening to the men and unsettling to the elves for it violated the rules that governed the rehousing of their dead. Tensions were building and focus was slipping.

Noting the grumbles, Glorfindel walked over to Elrond and his son to discuss possible steps to halt the breakdown in unity among the various factions. “Do you hear it, Hîr-nin? If this continues, we are lost before we find our enemy.” (my lord)

“Aye, mellon nin. How do we expect the troops to follow if we do not speak with one voice? We need to find something we can agree upon as our next course of action and follow it. We need unity of purpose and voice.” Elrond stated. (my friend)

“Adar, the alliance lacks a focus, a leader. Until we have that…” began Elrohir.

His words were choked off abruptly as a delayed warning was sounded from the guard perched on the hill guarding the camp’s right flank. “Yrch!”

*****

The camp was in disarray as half saddled horses and half armored troops had been caught with their attention diverted. Seeing the danger, Elrond swung to the back of Kaane and called for Glorfindel to call the troops to position.

Remembering to shout his commands in both the common tongue and in Sindarin, Elrond moved his mount to the head of the forming column. In a clear, crisp voice ringing with authority, he shouted “Archers to the front. Form two lines at this point. Swordsmen order up behind them. NOW!”

Within minutes, organized and refocused troops assembled under his command. He could hear Elrohir and Háma giving orders to form lines positioned to cover their eastern and western flanks. Aranuir was doing likewise opposite Elrond’s position to form the northern side of their defensive square.

Seeing the defenses snap into place, Elrond let his eyes sweep the field for Seere. He found her at her father’s right in the last line of swordsmen in his ranks. Gritting his teeth, he turned back to face the oncoming assault. As the first of the Uruk Hai crested the hill on the southern side of their camp, Elrond gave the order, “Tangado haid! Leithio i philinn!” (Hold your positions. Fire arrows!)

At his command, a volley of arrows cut through the air ripping into the first of the enemy. The second line stepped slightly forward and a fresh wave of arrows was released. With brutal efficiency, the archers poured a relentless rain of death upon the Yrch and Uruk Hai assaulting their position. Few managed to clear the hill and charge the line of warriors, at least on the southern side of the box formation. Those few were quickly surrounded by sword wielding troops, both elves and men, and dispatched.

To his right, Elrond could see that the topography of their camp, while aiding his position, was working against the western flank. A large body of Yrch and Uruk Hai had stormed that position and were making steady inroads toward the center of the box defense.

Wheeling Kaane toward the west, he quickly exchanged a look with Celeborn and Erestor. “Second column of archers and the first three lines of swordsmen, with me. ‘

“Follow me! Circle behind them to the right. Death to our enemy!” the elf lord shouted, repeating the key points in common tongue, as he led the counter charge into the enemy force.

Slashing his way through the line of Yrch in front of him, his swordsmen caught most unaware as they were faced toward Elrohir’s troops. Slowly the numbers of the enemy began to dwindle.

Lifting his head to survey the rest of the field of battle, his heart skipped a beat as he saw the small band of Easterlings, approaching by stealth the exposed backside of his old line --- the exposed position of Seere and Erestor.

Charging hard in their direction, he caught Erestor’s eye enough to signal the danger behind them. Quickly, his friend spun and ordered his troops to meet the approaching enemy. The move appeared to have been in time to beat back the assault, when a small hole opened in their lines behind Seere.

To their left, a mounted Easterling exploited the opportunity and swept into the fray to grab Seere around her waist. Clutching the struggling elleth, he pushed his horse to a gallop and raced away from the battle.

*****

A/N - Sighs and looks sadly at the lack of feedback! Sigh!