DISCLAIMER: I am simply borrowing the wonderful Gelmir, Gwindor, and Findekano (Fingon) from the brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien. Rated T for violence and angst.


Two soldiers rode up to Fingon from the outworks. Orcs had been seen approaching, a small group of them, and not large enough or threatening enough to be an army. The two elves bore Fingon's own device on their breastplates, though they were not from Hithlum. He knew them - Gwindor, a prince of Nargothrond, and his shieldbearer. Their matching blue cloaks swished slightly as they rode to the High King of the Noldor, and commander of the western host.

"News on the approaching orcs?" Fingon asked.

The shield bearer, a young elf of a few hundred years, nodded. "Parley, they want a parley."

"It is madness to agree. Let us kill them as they come," Gwindor said, a spark of flame in his eyes. The hatred for Morgoth-spawn was hot in them. After all, his brother Gelmir had been taken or killed at Dagor Bragollach.

"Nay, Gwindor. We must see what they have to say." Fingon's keen eyes searched Anfauglith anxiously. "No doubt they want to draw us out. We must stick to Maedhros' plan and stay here."

The prince merely grunted in reply. He didn't like that decision, but he had to obey his King.

Fingon waved his hand. "Go back to your positions."

"Mae, your Majesty." He turned to the shieldbearer. "Come, Celegros."

The orcs were close when Gwindor got back to the outworks. And he was shocked. Shocked at the orcs, at their prisoner.

The prisoner was an elf.

And somehow, he seemed… familiar. Too familiar. The name escaped him and flew to the tip of his tongue. Then - Celegros said it the moment he remembered.


And it all made sense.


What have they done to you, hanar? What have they done?

Tears sprang into his eyes, threatening, but he blinked them away angrily.

"Archers!" he cried, vengeance taking the better of him. "Shoot them!"

They raised their bows after the order was given, but another was yelled and they lowered their weapons simultaneously. Furious, he tried to wrest a bow from the nearest archer's hand. But his grip was like iron and Gwindor failed.

He only realized what he was doing when Celegros came between his naked blade and the archer. His shield bearer was saying something but he didn't hear it. His thoughts drowned out all sound.

Except for one.

A scream. A painful, heart-wrenching scream.


To Be Continued...