War Amongst Others
Morinvala felt herself drift slowly awake, she smiled slightly, it was a dream, a cursed nightmare for the coming of the end of the Age. Slowly, but surely, her eyes fluttered open, and her heart beat wildly in her chest, she was wrong. Above her, the clear sky illuminated by the light of early dawn. She groaned and propped herself onto her elbows, smoking cinders, and a man prodding them, stirring to see if there was much fire left. He glanced up at her, but resumed stirring the cinders without a word.
Morinvala sighed and sat up properly, she placed her palm by the cinders, which ignited into a ball of fire. Finrannie leapt backwards, just before the flames licked where he was just sitting. Morinvala sent him an amused glance but Finrannie stared at her in exasperation.
“More travelling?” Morinvala asked, breaking the calm silence.
“Yes, more than yesterday I’m afraid,” Finrannie replied quickly, sitting down.
“Where too?” She lifted her eyes to him.
“Far East, we must flee from Beleriand.”
This was enough for her, she quickly leapt to her feet, and unsheathed Nenlaya, pointing in Finrannie’s direction threateningly. Finrannie did not move, but stared at her cooly. “What do you plan to do, kill me?” He asked calmly.
“If I must.” She snapped. “You will take me back, back to Lothlann. Back home.”
“And why should I recieve your demands?”
Morinvala blinked, taken aback from his calm replies. Finrannie stared at her perplexed expression, and calmly stood. “You cannot go back.”
“Why?” She asked cautiously, as though he was to jump at her in any second.
“Your brother, Raelin.”
Both fear and anger rose up in her instantly, “What of him!” She snapped, regaining her composure.
“Melkor has taken hold of him. If you return, He shall sieze you and take you away. This cannot happen. I have strict instructions to take you Eastwards by the end of tomorrow. When your… child… is born, it shall be destroyed, for the spawn of Melkor must not live. If it happens, dangerous consequences shall be at hand.”
“And if I choose not to give up the child?” Though, she knew it was hardly unlikely.
“Then, with it, you shall be destroyed as well.”
Morinvala opened her mouth to speak, but nothing managed to come out. “Sheath that sword, and then follow me, you shall recieve your voice back later.”
Morinvala glared at him, she wanted to return to Lothlann, but knew, deep down, what Finrannie spoke of was true. She swallowed hard at the thought of her brother being controlled. Morinvala shot a quick glance Northward, and thought, just for a moment, that she saw the glistening banners of the Moriquendi, coming to rescue her from this untrustworthy fiend who would not let her return. But, nothing. Merely shadows and rocks glistening from the glare of the Sun. Morinvala sighed deeply, and followed Finrannie, who was many meters ahead, standing and waiting for her.
Raelin, sitting upon his throne, drummed his fingers upon the hard wooden arm. It had many weeks since her disappearance, there was no word, no trace of her. Raelin grimaced and held his head, he had been plagued with many headaches recently. That ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving him with thoughts of violence and war, very discouraging. He closed his eyes tiredly and did not open them until he felt the prescence of someone else in the room. He opened one eye and saw it to be Nathlom, his faithful Captain.
“My Lord,” Nathlom spoke, bowing low, the tip of his sword’s sheath scrapping across the floor noisely.
“There is no need for that,” Raelin replied, his eyes now both open, “We are friends, remember?”
Nathlom, gave a quick nod, his face clouding over. “We have just recieved news.”
Raelin jumped to his feet quickly, his eyes widening in happiness, “Is it-“
“No, I am sorry.” Nathlom replied, lowering his eyes to the floor as though something had caught his interest.
Raelin sat down hard and sighed, he had wished, whenever he recieved news, of his sister.
Nathlom raised his eyes to Raelin, who sat in unnerving silence. Raelin caught his eye, “What news,” he said sadly.
“Of the War, in the West. We have found that many have come to dissuade Melkor.” Nathlom replied quickly, rather excitedly.
“They might as well drown in the seas.” Raelin growled.
Nathlom stepped back, wincing, this was unlike Raelin. “They cannot dissuade Melkor, no-one can.” Raelin continued, shooting a poisonous look to Nathlom. Then, the anger faded, as though something within Raelin had left, leaving an empty shell of despair.
“Raelin-?” Nathlom asked cautiously, stepping forward.
“I-I am sorry Nathlom. I have not been… myself lately. These headaches…” Raelin mumbled, rubbing his head.
“Would you like for me to send the healer?”
“Nay, I shall be fine. Please, tell me more of this News. Who has come to fight?”
Nathlom paused for a moment, afraid of another outburst, but continued quickly. “Many Elves, many of them. The Maiar, who have come from over the Sea… and… the Valar.”
Raelin raised a suspicious eyebrow at this, “The Valar?” He repeated, unbelieving.
“There is more.” Nathlom paused again, wincing. But no outburst came. “They have asked for our aid.”
The hall became still, Nathlom felt the vibrating of heating anger in the air. “They shall not get it!” Raelin snarled.
“They curse us, and yet ask for forgiveness! They murder us, and yet they say it is not their fault! Their-” Raelin paused, “Children come after us, and yet they are controllable! Never. We shall never aid them. They will drown in their own blood, and see us standing over them. We will laugh as they mourn their losses. We will be better than them. We are better than them.”
Unable to utter a word, Nathlom turned and quickly left, leaving Raelin to wallow in his malice.
Morinvala could not stand it any longer, she was tired, yet as an Elf, she could run many distances without ever losing her breath. But they had walked, endlessly, and it was known to her, that she was walking for two. At last came the relief of a cool evening breeze, she closed her eyes as she walked, taking in the freshness- she fell to the ground hard as she walked straight into Finrannie, she opened her eyes and glared at him, there was nothing else she could do.
His eyes, however, were fixed Northwest, she turned around, and to her surprise, saw thick dark smoke billowing high in the evening sky. What-? As though, reading her mind, Finrannie spoke, “From Angband, War has been waged. The Valar have arrived.”
Morinvala saw him smile slightly, then turn away, he held out his hand, and she took it dilligently. He pulled her to her feet.
“Thank you,” Her voice rasped. Her eyes widened in surprise. “My voice! You’ve returned it!”
“Yes, but more questions, and more demands, you shall lose it again.”
He turned away before she could reply, her eyes fixed on the mountains that were beginning to show ahead of her.
“If we made as much distance as we have today, we shall be able to reach Ossiriand by tomorrow’s evening. But now, we will camp here for the night.”