To Rescue Celebrian - RPG

[the real findorfin]

"Well, whatever it is, we cannot wait for it to find us. Let us move on."

Fingil once again took the lead and led them onward further down the passageway. Slowly the sound became louder, but was still in the distance as Angore took the lead and Fingil slipped back to talk to Torfithien.
He smiled at her and the fell back even more from the others.
"It is not like you to fall wearily at the side of the road when others continue," Fingil said, opening the conversation.
"The darkness drains me," she replied lamely.
"Of course," he replied, with a hint of mirth, or as much as could be expected. "Well it is good to have you with me," he said, comfortingly.

His words were truth, for when he had fallen he had hoped she had been with him. Their friendship had grown with time and he now found that he wished her to remain with him at all costs. He wanted to protect her, noty that he thought her weak, on the contrary he found her to be a mentally and physically strong person.
"I'm glad to be with you also," she replied.

They returned to the others and the small group wound their way along the passageway into seemingly endless darkness. When would it end?

[Mithadan]

Elladan and Elrohir crept back through the dining hall to the spiral stair and dissolved again into the shadows. They climbed down another level and passed through a low arch into a new passageway where they found themselves again submerged in a darkness deeper than night. Uncovering a lamp, they walked along the corridor for a ways until it forked. The tunnel to the left had a layer of dust on its floor and showed signs of disuse. Masonry had fallen from the walls and ceiling and a pile of garbage and bones sat near its mouth.

The brothers entered the side passage and proceeded perhaps a dozen paces into it. At that point, the tunnel curved slightly and was obscured partially by a rockfall. There they sat, invisible to any who might pass by the entrance to the corridor, and waited. They heard Orcs walking by along the main passageway, some jabbering on excitedly about the upcoming party. Two did not reach their destination, instead donating their shabby cloaks, shields and helmets to the Elves, but only after confirming that the night's entertainment would include the long anticipated passing of two Elven maids.

After some discussion, Elladan reached out to Fingil with osanwe, again risking the possibility that whatever dark being inhabited this place might overhear. There will be Orcs moving soon through the halls towards a place of celebration. Celebrian and her handmaiden will be the entertainment. This will be our only chance. Follow the Orcs but do not reveal yourselves.

The brothers took stock of their weaponry and stripped the two Orc bodies of a quiver of arrows and a bow. Then they wrapped themselves in the Orc cloaks and took up their livery before carefully approaching the mouth of the tunnel, crouching to disguise their height. Soon, more Orcs passed on their way to the dining hall. The raucous celebrators did not notice two shadows detach themselves from the dim tunnel to follow them.

[Airerûthiel]

In a way, Torfithien did not want the darkness to end. It would give her time to be with Fingil. Her heart was stirring in a way she had never known before, not even with Rorfimir. She craved the knowledge that her friend was by her side at all times, like a hunger that was never satisfied. He made her feel safe and protected, but in a way that respected her, and she respected him for it. But she knew very little about him, whereas he had heard her life story. She remembered from her vision that the numbers leaving the mines were less than those going in, and made a mental note to learn more about Fingil before the end.

The group had been walking through the pitch black tunnels for what seemed like forever, although it could not have been more than an hour or so. Suddenly Torfithien's sharp ears picked up the sound she had heard in the tunnels when she was with Elladan and Elrohir. It was a voice calling for help - loud at its source, but very faint where she was. But she knew who was in need of aid. It was her other closest friend and companion since childhood, Lady Celebrian of Rivendell. And no doubt that close to where Celebrian was, they would find the twins too.

She broke away from Fingil and ran on ahead of the others. "Hurry!" she cried after herself. The three male Elves had vanished in the dark. "I hear Celebrian calling us! Follow me!"

[the real findorfin]

While the Brother's thoughts passed to Fingil, he was less awre of his surroundings, but suddenly the group dissolved around him as Torfithien ran forward and the others called out after her and began to move. The osanwe was cut and Fingil lurched forward, "what is she doing?"
"She said she heard Celebrian," Angore informed him and they sped after her.

Surely enough as the chasing elves continued, they began to hear sounds, at first the racious calling of orcs only but soon, over the din, they could hear elvish talk, pleas and cries for help.
"How could she have heard that?" Fingil wondered. They turned a corner and the sounds multiplied as, in front of them a narrow entrance led onto what seemed to be a main tunnel. A large band of orcs, with the two elvish women, passed by singing and dancing. Torfithien was knelt close to the entrance, a look of horror on her face and Fingil knew she was wondering whether or not to run out to her friend's aid. He decided for her and grabbed her shoulder. She spun around but remained silent.

As the orcs passed and the passage was quiet once more, the elves took stock. Fingil explained what the brothers had said and they determined to follow the orcs toward wherever the festivites would be held. But how to follow without being noticed, that would be a problem.

[ August 28, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Mithadan]

Findorfin's Post:

The plan had begun well, they had stayed well back and followed from a distance, Fingil taking the lead. But, as Fingil had worried, the confusing tunnels of the orcs had confounded them and the light which seemed to stay ahead only by a little turned out to be a mere reflection of the light, cast from some mineral in the walls. Suddenly the light had been cut of and they all realised the orcs were now to far ahead to be found. In truth, the elves had lost their quarry.
"We were so close," Torfithien said, in a sorrowful tone, slumping down against the wall.
"We cannot give up," Angore said, roughly. Fingil remained quiet, unsure what to do. After some deep thought, during which he took a deep swig of water from his side, he spoke,"we will carry on anyway and take what may come."
And so they continued into the dark, without a hint of where they should go. Soon they came to against a problem, one tunnel seemed to rise upward, the other dropped steepily futher into the depths of Moria.
They all stopped and Vanimoren stepped forward, "we are low enough already. We should take the upper path."
Fingil strode toward the lower path and knew at once that his companion was correct. Not only did the plan make sense, but he felt something dark down in the depths that transcended all 'lack of light'.
"We will take the upper path," he agreed and they cotinued upward.

The path steepened much as they walked, or climbed as it began to seem, and their progress was much reduced. The tunnel had no turnings and was straight as an arrow. It seemed to suck the life out of them as they trudged along but soon it flattened out again and they could make better time. Angore, as did they all, seemed anxious to reach the end and spurted forward as the mouth of the long tunnel could be dimly made out. The others, heartened by his actions followed and they burst, somewhat foolhardily, into a cavern....and straight into someone.

------------------------

Mithadan's Post:


Elladan and Elrohir slinked into the dining hall, keeping to the shadows and seeking the cover of the massive stone pillars. They stayed back near the far wall close to the archway which led to the spiral stair and pulled the black cloaks close about their bodies. It was not long before the hall began to fill with Orcs, many bearing flagons or mugs containing some fiery drink. Elbows were jostled and drinks spilled as the crowd grew tighter and, here and there, fights broke out to the delight of the on-lookers who cheered and hooted their approval.

Then a group of especially large Orcs entered from a tunnel to the side, bearing torches and spears. The fighting subsided and a cry arose from those assembled. "Azog! Azog!" A very massive Orc, wearing a horned helmet and a necklace which appeared to be strung with the teeth of Men climbed upon a dais and called for silence. He raised a great cup and drained it in a single gulp before speaking.

"Tonight's a night for food and fun!" he shouted. "We've prisoners to play with and meats to eat. It's a night for drink and blood to flow! We'll hear them scream and beg and then, when we've had our play, we'll string them up before the gates as a warning to all foul Elves that this is our domain!" A shout arose from the crowd, and mugs were beaten on the tabletops until Elladan feared the noise would bring down the walls. Then Azog turned to his guard and shouted, "Bring up the prisoners!"

Again, the room erupted in a chorus of yells and screams. Four of the great Uruks made their way through the crowd and back toward the archway near where the brothers stood. When they passed, Elladan and Elrohir waited a moment until the crowd's attention shifted back to the Orc Chieftain at the front of the room. Then they clutched their cloaks tightly about them and hurried into the stairway after the Uruks, maintaining their distance but staying within sight of the light of their torches.

The Orcs descended four levels along the spiral stair, then turned and went through a doorway which led into a narrow hall. The brothers followed cautiously, but the Orcs, familiar with their surroundings and fearing no assault, did not look back. Three tunnels exited the passageway on the right. The Orcs selected the second tunnel and shouted as they entered it, "Here we come! Are you wearing your party best?" They were greeted by a scream.

Elrohir almost followed them, upon hearing the cry, but Elladan pulled him back and motioned him to the third tunnel. Elladan himself returned to the first tunnel and crouched there, waiting for the guards to return with their prisoners. He did not have to wait long.

Only a few minutes passed before their footsteps echoed in the hall. Drawing his sword, he leapt out before the lead Orc and slew him with a single stab to the throat. Elrohir, coming from behind, brought his blade down upon the head of the last guard. The remaining two let loose their captives who immediately began striking them about their heads. Elrohir slew the third guard with a quick thrust and stepped forward to seize one of the prisoners. The last fell to Elladan's blade, but even as the Orc slumped to the floor, he turned and slashed at the captive standing behind him. She crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. Her dirty grey cloak settled over her and almost immediately a red stain began to spread upon it.

"Feaelena!" cried Celebrian. "Feaelena! No!"

Elrohir kneeled by the Elven Maiden and examined her wound. He looked up at his brother and his eyes betrayed what he had seen. Elladan took Celebrian in his arms and knelt beside his twin. Feaelena looked up at Celebrian and smiled weakly. "You see my lady?" she whispered. "There was hope. At least for you. My hope now lies in the West. Farewell!" And with that her spirit fled and her body fell into its final sleep.

Celebrian began to weep bitterly, but Elrohir raised her gently to her feet. "Mother, you may mourn later, just as we will rejoice that you yet live later," he said. "But for now we must flee." The three made their way to the stairway and began to climb. Elladan led the way, his fair Elven face obscured by the Orc hood and cloak. Elrohir and Celebrian followed several steps behind.

They climbed two levels, then a third and a fourth. From the nearby archway, they could hear the cries of the assembled Orcs, yet none came their way. They climbed a fifth level and a sixth. Suddenly a form erupted from a side tunnel and crashed into Elladan, knocking him into the wall. Other figures followed.

Daro, Mellyn!" cried Elrohir and a raised sword halted before it descended upon his brother. It was Fingil who stood there with his companions behind him...

[ September 18, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[the real findorfin]

Fingil almost cried aloud in joy as he finally worked out the scene in front of him. The brothers...with Celebrian. But there was no time to wonder at the rescue, for as Fingil relaxed his arm, cries were heard. Far off they sounded but he remembered the trick of the light, and no distances were sure in the tunnels.
"The escape has been discovered," Torfithien whispered, breathless.
"Follow us," Elladan said quickly and, with his brother, helped Celebrian as they fled from the harsh screams.

Not for the first time, Fingil became disorientated in the maze of tunnels as they ran. The cries seemed to become louder and at one point they felt so close, he could have sworn that the enemy was run parrelel to the company, along some tunnel only the other side of the rock wall.
"I do not think we have far to go to the gates," Vanimoren said, between breathes.
"Good," Angore cried, "the sooner we are gone the better."
As they cotinued Fingil wished they could speed up. But Celebrian's condition was poor and they soon were moving no quicker than a fast walk.
Will we ever get out of these accursed tunnels! Fingil shouted in his own mind.

[Airerûthiel]

Torfithien's heart leapt for joy at the sight of her old friend. It was all she could do not to run to her and begin talking excitedly about the latest news from Lothlórien. But suddenly all that seemed trivial and worthless; there were more important issues at stake. Celebrian seemed to be a different person from the one who Torfithien had known almost all her life. It was unlikely that she would have much interest in news of her people at this time.

The group continued making their way through the tunnels, but their speed was painfully slow. An image that had plagued Torfithien ever since she had joined up with the rescue party flashed into her head: that of less leaving the mines than had entered them. She shook her head to erase the vision and continued on her way. Her fear was starting to seep into all her thoughts, and she doubted whether they would survive.

The sound of the Orcs seemed far away; they must have lost the trail a little. But Torfithien knew that tunnels were places where everything was distorted. Nothing seemed real any more. She kept expecting to open her eyes and be sitting in her talan in the Golden Wood. Beside her Fingil seemed to be frustrated with the speed they were moving at.

"Shall we go on ahead a little way?" she asked him. "That way we can try and find a safe path for the others to follow." Fingil nodded and the two Elves quickened their pace a little, so that they were slightly ahead of the main group. Torfithien wrinkled her noise slightly at the musty damp smell that hit her full in the face. The long dark tunnels seemed to stretch on forever into a deep blackness.

[Garen LiLorian]

The group's progress had slowed to a crawl, and the sounds of pursuit grew ever louder. Angóre dropped to the back of the group, his hand clenching the grip of his sword, his face contorted in concentration as he listened to the sounds of the orc pursuit. Ahead, Celebrían stumbled again, and had to be helped to her feet by Elrohir. Angóre halted, a look of resolution passing over his features. "Elladan," he called softly, and Elrond's son dropped back beside him. "This isn't going to work," stated Angóre. "The Orcs grow ever closer and our progress grows slower. As I see it, our only option is to split up, some few of us remaining to draw off our pursuers while others continue on to the surface with Celebrían."

Angóre watched as emotions flitted across Elladan's face, but knew before words were spoken what the decision must be. He spoke, forestalling Elladan's words. "I shall lead the yrch away down the tunnels away from you. I await only your command."

[Mithadan]

Elladan started at Angóre's offer, for though it was courageous, it seemed also foolhardy. To separate at this stage would be to risk the loss of those willing to play the rabbit to the Orc's foxes. Yet their options were limited. Fingil and Torfithien held Celebrian up, one on each side of her. They could proceed no faster than a trot and behind them were the fast footfalls of running Orcs.

He turned to Vanimorén, who was alternating between peering out at a side tunnel, then looking forward down the passage in which they stood. "Do you know where we are, Vanimorén?" he asked. "Do you recognize any of these passageways?"

Vanimorén looked up at Elladan. "Rock is rock," he complained. "It all looks the same. Yet I believe that we are at or near the level of the Gates. Perhaps one level down. There was a great hall near the Gates at the First Deep. East of that hall and one level up is the First Hall, then the Bridge over a chasm which leads out to Nanduhirion, the Dimrill Dale. I do not think that we are very far."

Elladan looked to his twin, who remained silent but nodded. Then he turned back to Angóre. "Go!" he said grimly. "But take only such risks as you much. Draw them away, then double back if you can. If you cannot, then seek a stairway and go up one level before turning to the East. We will meet in this First Hall, but we cannot wait long."

Angóre nodded and ran back down the tunnel. A few moments later they heard him call out. "Ho! Ugly ones. Do you look for me?" Then came the sounds of pursuit and the shouts of the Orcs.

"May Varda protect him," said Elrohir. Then the Elves hurried on towards the East...

[Garen LiLorian]

Angóre leapt gracefully down the corridors, the sounds of Orc boots crashing behind him growing neither nearer nor farther as he led them away, always heading to the West and down. He called taunts over his shoulder and tried his best to sound like many people, but knew that at least some of the pursuing orcs had not been fooled. "Varda protect them," he thought as he raced away. Then the sound began, low and rumbling at first, but soon it was picked up by many others. The great goblin drums of Moria had begun to beat, and Angóre knew despair.

He did not know how long he had been running, and the sounds of pursuit still followed close at his heels. The orcs were enraged at the violation of their halls, and their yells merged with the drumbeats and pounded at his senses. Vaguely he hoped that the others had made it out by now, but could put no more thought on the subject. He ran on, to the rythm of the drums.

The Drums stopped suddenly. Angóre halted, fear and triumph warring in his heart. Either Elrond's sons had escaped or been run to earth, there was no other reason for the cessation of the omnipresent thumping. "We will meet in the First Hall..." Angóre remembered Elladan's words, but prayed that they were wrong. The sounds of the orc pursuit had faded, whether they had given up or were simply saving their breath Angóre knew not, and cared not. He stopped and slid into a patch of deepest shadow to see. Nothing came 'round the corner. Weary and footsore, Angóre loosened his sword in his scabbard and slowly began to make his way back to where he had left Celebrían and her sons.

It took a great deal of time to return, and more than once Angóre relied on the grace of Varda to make the right choice, having no memory of the passages he was presented with. He would never learn if he had chosen rightly, but finally he came to a long, narrow span across a seemingly bottomless chasm. Vanimorén's words echoed through his head, "...The Bridge over a chasm which leads out to Nanduhirion, the Dimrill Dale." Angóre breathed a prayer of thanks that he had chosen correctly. But there were more obstacles before he could breathe fresh air again. The Bridge was heavily guarded, with great Goblins of the mountain, almost as tall as men. Angóre's eyes became calculating, the eyes of a hunter, as he took to the shadows and began formulating a plan.

[Mithadan]

Angóre's ploy attracted the attention of many of the Orcs but some continued to follow the other Elves. Twice, they were forced to turn and defend themselves but none of the Orcs that had pursued them lived to report the route they were taking. Eventually, there were no sounds of pursuit behind them and they were able to halt and rest for a time.

Elladan sat next to his mother and draped his grey cloak about her shoulders. "Amme", he said quietly. "Are you wounded? Have they harmed you?" She looked back at her son with dull eyes. "My body has taken no harm..." she answered quietly, yet both knew that she had left things unsaid. He held her close, then stood as Vanimorén, who had gone ahead, returned to the group.

"I have found it!" he cried excitedly. "The great hall of the Second Deep! It is but a ways farther to the left. The Gates are not far now!"

"At last," sighed Elrohir. But even as he spoke, the sound of beating drums echoed in the tunnels. They cowered in the shadows until the sound stopped. Then they all rose and made their way down the passage, following close behind Vanimorén who led the way. Fingil spoke quietly to Elladan as they walked. "The Gates will be held against us now, will they not? The drums were an alarm." Elladan did not respond, and they continued on through the darkness.

Just as Vanimorén had said, a large and lofty hall opened on their left. It was lit dimly by faint and distant daylight that entered through shafts high above. Keeping to the walls and dodging from pillar to pillar, they made their way to the end of the hall and found a broad stairway leading upward. At the top of the stairs, they halted and Elladan peeked out carefully. They had reached yet another hall, more massive than the one a level below, lined with great columns of carved stone. To the left, the hall ran on back towards Moria. But to the right, light entered through the Gates of Durin and illuminated a narrow span over a black chasm. The bridge had no railings and was broad enough only for one person to pass at a time. And it was guarded.

On the near side of the chasm was a group of Uruks, nearly twenty in number. They wore mail and carried black spears tipped with steel blades that were painted red. On the far side of the bridge were ten more similarly arrayed Uruks. Both groups stood facing inwards, peering into the hall for a glimpse of the Elves.

Fingil raised his sword as Elladan returned. "The bridge is held against us," he said tiredly. "There are two dozen Orcs, some on each end of the span."

"Then we must fight our way out," said Fingil.

"No," answered Elladan. "They are too many and the bridge is easily defended. While we could defeat them, it will be dangerous and they will raise the alarm. We may find ourselves quickly surrounded."

"Then we must play Angóre's game," interjected Torfithien. "We must lead them away on a merry chase."

"Perhaps..." replied Elladan. Then he and Elrohir huddled together and whispered, debating what course they should take...

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Mithadan]

Their debate was interrupted by a commotion near the great Gates. A short Orc with wide flaring nostrils loped into the hall and spoke rapidly to one of the Uruks. The taller goblin shook his head vigorously, but the tracker would not leave him be. "Outside!" he shouted. "I smell Elves outside! They've escaped I tell yer! They're outside!"

The Orc captain thought for a moment, then traversed the bridge to discuss matters with members of the group on the near side of the chasm. After some debate, the captain again crossed the bridge and motioned for his Orcs to follow. With the tracker leading the way, the Uruks stepped through the gates. The Orcs left behind on the near side of the bridge shuffled their feet nervously and debated noisily whether they should stay in place or follow. A few well placed cuffs to a few heads delivered by their captain convinced them to stay.

Elladan moved his bow off his shoulder and brought an arrow to its string. The other Elves followed suit. "It appears that we have a plan..." commented Fingil wryly.

[the real findorfin]

In unison five arrows flew across the gap and felled the first rank of orcs. Four of the second rank were down before they could react but the fifth arrow from Fingil glanced from the Captain's armour. The great orc screamed a war cry and his remaining company charged blindly toward the dark tunnel where the arrows had flown from.

Fingil managed to lose another arrow from the rear of the group and felled the foremost chittering orc before slinging the bow quickly on his back. He drew his large sword, it had seen battle in the north and was an ancient and powerful blade, and Fingil found comfort in it. It had disposed of the hordes of Angmar and would not fail to bring death to ptiful scum of Moria.

Within seconds the orcs were upon them and battle commenced. He parried a weak blow from a barely armoured fiend then stabbed forward into its unprotected gut. The screech of the creature was foul and was quickly silenced as, with a swing of his mightly blade, Fingil took the head from the creature.

Fingil took stock of his position and panic hit him when he noticed Torfithien was nowhere to be seen. But then he realised Celebrian was gone as well. No doubt his companion was protecting her mistress.

Another goblin charged at him and he countered and swung again. This foe was more nimble than the last and darted aside, receiving only a cut along the arm. He dodged under Fingil's second attack and managed to cut a large wound across the elf's upper leg. Fingil cried out, in anger moe than pain, and sprang forward with a pace that surprised both combatants. The orc was impaled on his sword before he could move.

However, this sudden burst caused Fingil more than it gained. the sword had wedged between the creatures ribs and the metal armour he had worn. Try as he might, Fingil could not dislodge the blade so he gave up and drew his smaller hunting blade. He was now at a distinct disadvantage and the enemy sensed it. As he moved back from the melee another orc paced toward him menacingly. The goblin followed him and, twisting his head to one side, cried in a taunting manner. Fingil cried back and tried to intimidate the orc as best as he could. The competition of wills continued until the orc, in a temper, leapt at Fingil. They closed and, weapons forgotten, fell to the floor writhing about. The goblin managed to roll on top and his hands closed aeround Fingil's neck. A spike of his armour buried into side and Fingil almost despaired. His felt light-headed and the gleeful chittering of his enemy seemed far off. But it was this very sound that brought Fingil back from his hole of despair. The thought that an orc was getting the better of him offended all of his senses and with a heave, he lifted the enemy from him and pushed him backwards. Picking up the creatures own jagged blade, he buried it deep, stabbing through the gap in the visor of its helm. Blood spurted out and it went limp. Fingil left the blade in its head and regained his knife. The wound to the side was quite deep but not life-threatening and Fingil decided he could live with it for now. In the struggle, they had moved down the tunnel and he strode quickly to see how the fight went back at the cave entrance.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[Mithadan]

The arrows whistled through the air and the first volley found their marks as if they had been guided by the eyes of Manwë. The troop of Orcs turned and charged, leaving behind five of their brethren dead or dying on the cold stone floor. Four more fell with the second volley, before the Elves were forced to abandon their bows in favor of swords and knives.

Torfithien pulled Celebrian farther back into the tunnel as the skirmish began, shielding the fatigued prisoner with her body. Elladan and Elrohir stood shoulder to shoulder, their bright blades gleaming with an internal incandescence, while Fingil stepped forward to meet the charge of their foes. Vanimorén wielded a long knife in one hand and a Noldorin lamp in the other, the light of which burned the eyes of the Orcs with a searing light.

Two Fingil slew quickly before losing his blade and grappling with a third. One each fell by the swords of the twins in the first moments of battle, but others took the places of the slain Uruks and aimed slashing blows at the brothers. Vanimorén stood his ground and the Orcs were loath to approach the bright light which he held. Leaping forward, Vanimorén took one through the throat before closing with a second.

But by now the remainder of the troop had caught up and more Uruks joined the fray, some assailing Elladan and Elrohir while another confronted Vanimorén. The twins retreated until their backs touched the wall behind them. Vanimorén gave way and stepped back toward the tunnel before tripped over a fallen Orc and tumbled over backwards. With a scream of triumph, his foes leapt forward, then fell, one pierced by an arrow in his throat and the other with an arrow in his back.

Vanimorén stumbled to his feet with a gasp. To his left, Torfithien stood with her bow at ready. Beside her, propping up Celebrian, was Fingil, who had recovered his blade. And standing in the middle of the great hall, drawing back the string of his bow again was Angóre. He let his dart fly and one of the Uruks assailing Elladan and Elrohir fell. He smiled grimly as he drew back his string again and nocked another arrow.

With a cry, Elladan threw one of his foes to the ground and dispatched him with a thrust of his blade. The two remaining Uruks fell back in fear and turned to flee. One toppled as Elrohir's blade split the Orc's helm. The second drew a horn from his belt and blew a quick blast even as arrows from the bows of Angóre and Torfithien found him and ended his unhappy life.

"Quickly!" cried Elladan. "To the bridge!" Even as the group stepped forward and raced to the chasm's verge, cries arose and echoed through the hall warning of approaching foes. Yet for the moment the Elves stood alone in the hall.

Elrohir shoved Fingil toward the span, spitting out a single word of instruction, "Lead!" Then Torfithien followed, assisting Celebrian on the narrow span, and still no Orcs had appeared to harry them. Vanimorén stepped onto the bridge, striding gracefully along the rail-less way without even a glance at the abyss on either side. Angóre next, then Elrohir and, at last, Elladan, and as they reached the center of the span arrows skittered and whined around them.

"Do not look back," cried Elladan. "Quickly! To the gates!"

Fingil and Torfithien lifted Celebrian as they raced for the steps. A stiff wind met them as they stepped out of Moria into a dark, moonless night. Vanimorén and Angóre raced by them with weapons raised, ready to to confront any foes. Elladan and Elrohir paused at the gates, hoping to find a way to bar the way, but the great doors were askew and the hinges torn. Their faces grim masks of determination, they followed the others, seeking a place to make a last stand.

In front of the group, shadowy shapes stepped silently out from behind rocks, trees and shattered pillars. Ten, twenty, more...many more. Behind the Elves, dozens of shrieking Orcs loped out of the Gates of Moria. The Elves halted and formed a ring, facing outward, with weapons ready to strike the first foe to step near. In their midst stood Celebrian with her head bowed, weeping at the cruelty of the world.

The silent host that barred their way raised bows and a cloud of arrows spewed forth, arcing over the heads of the Elves, to land among the Orcs streaming out of the Black Pit. Again and again the bows sang, spilling a deadly rain of darts among their foes. Then, with a great cry, the host charged, flowing by Celebrian and her rescuers like a river around an island. Swords glittered in the starlight and the Goblins who had pursued their quarry from Moria wavered, then fled screaming back into the mines.

A familiar figure appeared and came to stand beside Elladan. "Bring help, you said," cried Tintallë. "Is this enough?" Even as he spoke, the Elves of the host of Lorien surrounded them and ushered them forward toward the Dimrill Vale, where stood Celeborn and Galadriel...

[Airerûthiel]

Relief crashed over Torfithien as she was carried along by the Elves of the Golden Wood. Everywhere she looked she saw familiar faces. Many of her childhood friends were among them, whom she had known since she was small. For a brief moment she glimpsed someone she knew all too well. Her soul urged her to run to her older brother, but knew better than to bother him whilst he was on duty. She would talk to him later when they arrived back at their home...her home. Her heart sang so loudly inside her she was afraid that the Orcs would hear its voice. For the first time in what felt like years, she was actually truly happy.

Her eyes darted sideways to the Elf who walked beside her. Fingil looked to her with kind eyes and smiled softly in her direction, a smile that told her everything would be all right again. She did not know what made her do what happened next. Tentatively yet impulsively, she reached out and took his hand in hers. His palm felt warm and it only took his a second before his firm yet gentle grip tightened around her hand with a sense that neither of them would ever let go.

Torfithien felt released, like a caged bird cast out into the air. The clumsy, passionate first love she had once known had died long ago, but she had stuck to her silly little promises. Before this she had been acting like a child. Now she was surrounded by a whole band of new friends (and several old ones) and she knew she cared for Fingil in a much deeper way. But what really lifted her spirit was the fact that mercifully, her premonitions had been wrong for once. The visions had all but deserted her recently; she did not feel the weight of such a dark fantasy pressing down on her any longer.

[ November 09, 2003: Message edited by: Airerûthiel ]

[Mithadan]

So it was that a deed of great renown was achieved. For Elladan and Elrohir, accompanied by but a few of their brethren, dared enter into Moria, the Black Pit that once was fair Khazad-dûm, and rescued their mother Celebrian from torment. And when the next morning dawned, they rode with the host of Lorien to the land of the golden Mallorns, where Celebrian was placed in the care of her mother, Galadriel.

For three months they resided there, and Celebrian received such healing as could be offered her east of the Great Sea. Then they rode forth with a guard of many Elves and crossed the mountains through the Redhorn Pass, and no Orc dared assail them as they traveled on to Rivendell. But it is said that Torfithien and Fingil remained behind in Lorien where they dwelt together while the Third Age lasted, until they passed over the sea into the West.

For a while, Celebrian dwelt in the House of Elrond, and happy was their reunion when she returned to Rivendell. Yet their happiness was marred, for a shadow remained upon Celebrian which even the ministrations of Elrond could not lift. The memory of the darkness of Moria and the torment of the Orcs, as well as the death of her faithful servant, Feaelena, weighed heavy upon her, until she resolved over the protests of her husband and her children to seek healing in the West.

On a sad fall day, she rode forth from Rivendell with Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen and a few others besides and rode to the Grey Havens, where they dwelt for a short time as her ship was prepared and hallowed. Then, one evening as the stars emerged and night fell, she stood upon the docks on the verge of the Great Sea and took her leave from her husband and children, and mournful was that parting.

But even as she stood on the foot of the gangway, she embraced her daughter Arwen, and her tears fell like rain. And she said, "My heart forebodes that this will be a parting beyond the circles of this world and that when Elrond and I are at last reunited you will not be standing beside him on the quays of Tol Erresëa. Your fate will take you elsewhere and your hope will remain in Middle earth. Therefore take this for it will give you solace even as the darkness falls, and maybe someday you shall give it to another in token of the last united hope of Elves and Men." And she brought forth a bright green gem that burned with an inner light as if the rays of the sun shining through the leaves of a beech tree had been captured within it.

Then she boarded her white ship and it departed, and passed onto the Straight Road and Celebrian was never seen in Middle Earth again.

END

[ 10:45 AM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]