In front her laid the rolling green hills of Ossiriand, the distant, snake-like rivers twisted through the plains. The sharp points of Ered Luin were his amongst stormy clouds that threatened the distant land’s. They had come to the land of the Green-elves. The thundering noise in the North had frown louder and more violent, as dark smoke billowed heavily into the already clouded sky. Deep within her, Morinvala felt that the First Age was coming to an end, and victory would not come without destruction. Finrannie knew that, she realised as she followed behind him silently. That is why he was taking her out of Beleriand, he knows its destruction is near. But… why was he saving her? Would it not be easy to murder her, here and now?
“Your highness!” Cried the messenger breathlessly, he bowed awkwardly before Raelin, catching his breath.
Raelin rubbed his head, his headaches had worsened, any noise, loud or soft, pained him. “Yes?” He asked tiredly, closing his eyes.
“Your highness… sir… they have… we are victorious!” The messenger cried ecstatically.
Raelin winced slightly, “Victorious?”
“Yes… against Melkor, they have thrown down the walls of Angband! Melkor’s reign has come to an end.” The messenger replied, his eyes dancing. A growl rose in Raelin’s throat as he leaped to his feet. His face, twisted with rage and eyes burning with an unquenchable fire. He clutched the hilt of his blade and unsheathed it to the horrid surprise of the messenger. Raelin brought it down upon the Elf quickly and silently. As the messenger’s lifeless body fell to the floor.
“I will never be defeated,” Raelin said coldly. The light within his eyes flickered and his face merged into an expression of agony. “No! You cannot-” He cried falling to his knees twitching in pain screaming pleading to the unseen beings around him. A soft glimmer drifted from his twitching body and disappeared through the walls. Raelin’s body stopped, his breathing was shallow and quick. Raelin stirred as the Throne Door’s swung open, hitting against the wall hard.
Guard’s, seeing the body of their king upon the floor, came at his side instantly, calling for a healer. An Elf, dark hair scattered across his face, green eyes pleading, stared down at Raelin.
“It is finished…” Raelin whispered placing his sweaty palm upon the young Elf’s face.
“M’lord?” He asked, his voice straining.
But Raelin did not answer for his eyes had shut. His chest rose up and down slowly, until at last, it stopped.
“Take my hand!”
Morinvala lifted her hand to Finrannie, he grasped it tightly as the unstable rocks beneath her feet collapsed. Grunting, he lifted her up onto the cliff ledge gently. She collapsed next to him breathing hard.
“What lost your concentration!?” He demanded his eyes flickering angrily.
“Something… something has happened… Raelin,” she weeped bitterly. Finrannie moved closer, wrapping a protective arm around her. Morinvala looked up at him, “He’s dead!” She managed to whisper.
Finrannie looked away from her, glancing across the plains of Ossiriand. Many gaps and crevices emerged across the land. Cold water billowed upwards through the cracks, but did not overlap the land. “It is finished.” Finrannie said simply.
Morinvala, through her bitter tears gasped at the merging gaps across the land. Her gaze fell upon Finrannie, she brushed away his arm harshly and stood quickly. “You knew of this, the destruction of Beleriand! If I am with the child of Melkor, whyy do you not leave me to drown?” She cried, stepping back.
Finrannie’s eyes turned to her though, had a strange, undead tint to them. A malicious grin spread across his face, he stood slowly. Morinvala backed up more until she felt the cold stone wall against her back.
“You are not of the Istari, are you?” She whispered shakily.
Finrannie shook his head silently, he slipped his hand upon her cheek, than much to her shock, he began to change. Morinvala stared into her eyes that stared back.
“You-your me!” Morinvala cried, dumb-shocked.
“You-your me!” Her reflection repeated, a horrid grin spreading across her face.
“A shifter.” She whispered.
“Aye, that I am. Able to imitate any form I touch.” Her own voice replied, as she turned away.
“I thought there were none left,” Morinvala whispered as the Shifter changed once more. Long, black robes replaced her own Evish tunic. Short, sea-blue hair replaced her long, delicate hair. The Shifter turned back to her, and bowed mockingly.
“N’athuine at your service, your highness.” His smile, horrible in all imaginings, caused her to shriek in terror. His laughter echoed against the Mountains of Ered Luin.
Authors Note: Okay, some of you may think… how did Raelin die? Well, as you may know that he was under the influence of Melkor. When the Valar took hold of Melkor, and threw him through the Door of Night, Melkor took along with him, the soul of Raelin, and thus, died.