A feeling of restlessness had already overtaken the camp. It was not something unusual prior to the march. Some persistently sharpened their swords and knives. Some hunched around campfires. It was time for many tales, weaved together in one common thread of pain and loss. Strangely, it was of hope too. Almost everyone present had lost someone. This war would either be their chance of revenge or an opportunity to meet the fallen all too soon. Erenien listened to some. But before the chance to share her's fell on her, she extricated herself from the group.
At some distance, a froathing Anduin glistened under the full moon's light. She found herself pulled to the banks, away from the sounds and multitude of eyes that followed her everywhere. The Galadhrim were curious. They would surely be; her hair, both in length and colour, earned it. Her smile in return was often returned with only a quirk of lips or sometimes nothing at all.
Strange, she'd thought, for their people to act so nonchalantly. Well, she hadn't met anyone from outside their realm until then. If this was the way Sindars and Silvans of neighbouring kingdoms act around each other, then how would the Noldor at Rivendell be?
The never-ending song of the river slowed down her thoughts. Sitting down at the bank, she pulled off her boots, feeling the soft grass beneath her feet. The night was a bit chilly. The starfield glistened around the moon. Slowly she lowered herself to lie down.
It was said among the elves that for each person slain in battle, a new star would be born. They'd continue to shine until the day their spirits get released from the respite at Mandos. She wanted to believe that, even though it was only a tale told to console the young ones who had to endure much. Somehow the thought made life bearable. She imagined Laerdil among the stars, where he would surely shine brighter than his peers. Tomorrow would decide her fate. She may live to see the sun rise on a free world, as Laero had hoped. Or she might say the last farewell to Middle Earth and go far away to rest. Either way, she knew she would find peace.
A wave of music flowed from the camp. Erenien imagined herself melting into the grass, being one with the earth, and soon her mind was set free to wander among the stars. This was the night of peace before war.
***
With one long horn, chaos erupted. Swords clashed endlessly. Arrows flew everywhere, raw screams emanating as it hit flesh. Her armour was painted with blood, both black and red. Her sword sang a song of its own.
Erenien clenched her teeth as she pulled out the sword from an orc's chest, black blood spraying over her face. Retching, she spat it out. The battle was comparatively thin where she stood. Tauriel and Norves were close. So was Findir. It was quite unusual for him to not be in the thick of battle.
Slowly, the host gained ground and the orcs were pushed back. With the downfall of their master, a new sense of despair had engulfed them. Even though their captains ordered them to fight, few managed to retreat to the depths of the fortress. In the run, many fell over to the abyss surrounding it. As the day turned to dusk and the new sun rose, the squeaks had almost died down. Slowly, the songs of victory wound around the host.
Despite having lost it to evil long ago, the people of Mirkwood still remembered the numerous pathways of the fortress. The orcs who had managed to escape soon tasted the sharpness of elven swords. Both Tauriel and Norves had gone inside. Erenien stared at the jagged spires that shot against a pale blue sky. The sight of the fortress itself was enough to make her mouth go dry. Her heart a heavy thud against her chest. The sights and sounds that she had long suppressed slowly resurfaced. As the sun rays lit on the towers, those who infiltrated the castle returned one by one. Their faces were heavy, witnessing all the horrors that lurked in the dark pits. Erenien's own face mirrored theirs in repressed memory. Dark halls, chained hands... Being strapped to a table and screaming of agony...
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The Eternal Starlight
Fanfiction"I cannot raise a child!" Thranduil said aghast. "What she needs is a mother and a father- a proper family," he sighed. "Maybe she has found them in you..." It was said that after the death of his Queen, the Elven king became bitter and cold. Everyo...
